#Because now my brain is in a state and I cannot focus

[curiouselleth]

.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [3] - Downpour

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You're amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Thanks to @chibi-lioness for beta reading!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Evening rain comes out of nowhere.

Word Count: 4540

CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language

Series Masterlist

Fine.

Maybe you did have a crush.

And maybe the said crush was taking over all your thoughts to the point that you could barely focus on anything other than him, but that was completely normal.

Just like you and your best friend analyzing every single second of your interaction with your crush was completely normal.

“He actually lifted your car?”

You nodded your head, filling both her glass and yours with wine before tucking your legs under you.

“With one hand,” you said, leaning back to the arm of the couch. “He did that with one hand.”

“And you didn’t jump his bones right then and there?”

“No but I may have rambled about going to jail if the car fell on him and also not knowing who would take care of Theo.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” she asked with a scoff. “I’d take care of Theo. We’d come to visit you every weekend.”

“Thanks Julie.”

“I’d even sign you up for those inmate dating websites.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Uh, no thank you.”

“Hey, if you accidentally kill the ridiculously hot mutant guy—”

“Logan.”

“Yeah, Logan. If you accidentally kill him, you might as well exchange some dirty letters with someone else.”

“Can we please focus on the fact that I actually have a crush on him?”

“We absolutely can,” Julie grinned, swirling the wine in her glass. “Aw look at you! It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute!” you whined, slipping a little on the couch. “Julie, I talk absolute nonsense whenever he and I cross paths.”

“Babe, I mean it in the best way possible,” she said and motioned at your face. “I doubt any guy really listens to any word coming out of your mouth when you look like this, so you’re fine.”

“So not true,” you stated and sipped your wine. “I mean either way, it’s not like anything could happen between us so I’ll just, you know, fantasize about him and gaze at him longingly. Should be fine.”

Julie rolled her eyes at you. “Come on.”

“No seriously, because Theo—”

“Sweetheart,” she said. “You got pregnant at 18. Don’t get me wrong, I think Theo is the most perfect kid in the entire world but keep in mind that while we were all out partying, you were taking care of a baby.”

“It’s fine, I lived vicariously through you.”

“And now that you’re in your twenties and hot as fuck,” Julie said, ignoring your comment. “You don’t think it’s time to live a little?”

“It’d confuse Theo if I started dating around, especially with Logan—”

“Fine, then don’t date Logan. Just fuck his brains out.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because the moment I sleep with him, I will be trying to decide on the wallpaper of our future cabin in the woods,” you pointed out, getting a handful of popcorn from the bowl and she scoffed.

“I still can’t believe you want a cabin in the woods.”

“I want a cabin in the woods and I want a horse and a cat and two dogs,” you insisted. “Anyway, the point is, no strings attached is not a thing for me when it comes to a guy that hot. He lifted a car for me, Julie!”

“And you want him to lift you up and down repeatedly,” Julie said with a grin, making you throw a popcorn at her.

“I doubt I’m his type,” you said and she groaned.

“You cannot be serious.”

“No I am, because men like him go for…” you trailed off and threw your head back. “Ugh, I so want to show you his picture so that you’ll know what I’m talking about but I don’t have one!”

“I have this mental image of a very hot lumberjack in mind.”

“That would be correct,” you said before taking a sip of your wine, but then your phone started vibrating on the table and you frowned, then snatched it off the table when you saw the caller ID.

“Theo?” you answered immediately. “Are you alright?”

“Hi mommy!”

You let out a breath at the cheerful tone of his voice, then pressed a hand on your chest and checked the time on the phone.

“What are you doing up, bean?” you asked. “It’s late at night.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m with auntie Julie,” you said and Julie grinned.

“Hi Theo, I missed you sweetheart!” she called out, making Theo giggle.

“Hi auntie Julie!” he said. “Mommy, I thought about it, and I solved how I can have fish.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.

“I’m listening, bean.”

“Okay so,” he said. “We will get two fish, and we will put them in an aquarium, but like a bowl, not a huge aquarium.”

You hummed.

“That’s where they’ll stay at the weekends when I’m there,” he said. “And then, on weekdays, I will bring them here, and put them in the lake, and that’s where they can stay within the week! They’d even make friends with other fish!”

You let out a small laugh.

“Theo, my love,” you said. “How will you catch them again if you put them in the lake?”

He paused for a moment.

“Um, I’d call them by their names,” he said. “Cheeto and Popcorn. They’d come.”

“Fish don’t do that baby,” you said softly. “How about you make friends with fish there in the lake and on the weekends they can just spend time with their own friends?”

“Yes but—” he started but then got distracted for a moment by something. “It’s my mom!”

“I know bub,” you heard Logan’s deep voice and your eyes widened. You sat up straight immediately, making Julie tilt her head in confusion. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Mommy, Mr. Logan says hi to you.”

“Uh, tell him I said hi back,” you said after a beat, hearing Theo parrot what you said as you covered the bottom part of the phone with your palm, then mouthed ‘Logan’ to Julie.

“What?!” she whispered and you cleared your throat.

“And tell him to please watch that you don’t have any sweets before bed, for his sake.”

“No!”

“Bean.”

“Ugh fine!” he said. “Mr Logan, my mom says please watch that I don’t have any sweets before bed for your sake.”

You could hear Logan’s chuckle, making you bite at your lip before he spoke.

“Can I borrow the phone for a minute Theo?”

Your jaw dropped and you motioned at the phone frantically, and Julie pulled you by the arm and made you lower the phone a little so that she could hear as well. You pressed your finger to your lips, signaling her to be silent before Theo’s excited “sure!” and there was a shuffling on the other line for a moment before Logan’s voice reached you again.

“So no chocolate before bed then?”

Julie gripped your wrist, mouthing “hot voice!” to you and you let out a giggle, trying to focus.

“Nope,” you said. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

You could hear Theo in the background; “I think I can have one chocolate.”

“No no,” you said, shaking your head. “He can’t.”

“Sorry bub, whatever your mom says goes.”

“Um, Logan,” you said, your mind going overdrive again. “If he’s up this late, he will turn the puppy dog eyes on for dessert, and he can be very, very insistent but sugar makes him incredibly energetic, and he will end up blowing a hole in the wall because of his powers so you can’t—”

“Relax princess,” Logan said and you could almost hear his faint smile. “It’s fine.”

Julie’s eyes widened and she fell on her back onto the couch dramatically, kicking her legs in the air while slapping the pillow and you stood up, your heart beating in your ears.

“How’s the car?” he asked and you licked your lips.

“Oh I changed my mechanic, so it’s at the new mechanic’s shop for a couple of days. My friend has been driving me to work—” Julie waved a hand from where she was lying down on the couch. “But apparently it’ll be fixed the day after tomorrow so it’s totally fine.”

“Are you being safe?”

“I am,” you said. “Are you?”

“Am I being safe?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “What with lifting cars and stuff, it can be dangerous.”

“Half a chocolate!” Theo said as if it was the brightest idea in the world. “Half—Mr. Logan, can I have the phone back please?”

You ran a hand over your face and cleared your throat.

“Sorry about that,” you said and Logan chuckled.

“Not a problem,” he said. “Good night.”

“Good night Logan,” you said, your head spinning with excitement and you heard the shuffling, then Theo took a deep breath.

“Mommy, half a chocolate!”

“Not at night,” you said. “We’ve talked about this bean. You can have chocolate tomorrow morning after breakfast, okay?”

“But—”

“Theo,” you said. “After breakfast.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I know bean,” you said softly. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mkay,” he said with a huff. “I’m going to sleep then.”

“Okay, I love you!” you said. “Call me tomorrow and be nice to your teachers, okay?”

“I will,” he said. “Love you too!”

He hung up and you let out a breath, then tossed the phone on the couch while Julie sat up.

“Oh he talks you through it!” she said, slamming the pillow on the couch. “I just know he talks you through it!”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your cheeks burning and she let out a laugh.

“Oh please, with that voice…”

“That’s what I mean!” you said and flung yourself on the couch. “He’s…he’s so amazing and Theo adores him and he’s so good with him too and to repeat, he lifted a car for me!”

“Aw,” Julie said. “He’s gonna be such a good stepdad to Theo.”

Your jaw dropped and you shook your head.

“We’re not even thinking about that,” you said, pointing at her. “We’re keeping our expectations very, very low, okay?”

She hummed, then tilted her head.

“Do you want to check Pinterest for cabins in the woods to see which one could be your and Logan’s in the future?”

You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you said. “That sounds like keeping our expectations low, sure.”

                                                *

Despite having drunk until midnight and consequently having a hangover in the morning, the next day went without a hitch. You’d only had a couple of rude customers, which in service industry counted as a normal day if not a good one, but because of last night you were more than ready to get home, eat a bunch of snacks and go to sleep.

Towards the end of your shift, rain started pouring and you couldn’t help the whine escaping from your lips, leaning back to the counter. You could hear your friend Stacey’s small laugh as she looked out the window, then back to you.

“It’s just summer rain love,” she said. “It’ll stop.”

“Yeah but I’ll have to walk to the subway under that rain and I don’t have a coat with me,” you pointed out. “Ugh. Great. I’ll look like a horror movie protagonist by the time I get there.”

“This is why I am a huge advocate of waterproof makeup.”

You hummed, chewing on the pen in your hand as you grabbed your phone to check the weather forecast, faintly hearing the door opening behind you.

“It says it’ll rain until—what?” you asked Stacey when you lifted your head to see her raise her brows at something by the tables area and you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your heart jumping to your throat the moment you did so.

“Logan?”

Jesus, he looked way too handsome. He gave you a small smile, running a hand through his dark hair as if he was trying to get rid of the raindrops clinging to it, then approached the counter.

“Hey.”

“H—hi!” you said, your voice going way too high-pitched all of a sudden. “Uh, welcome! It’s so nice to see you, what—what can I get you?”

“I can take his order love,” Stacey said helpfully. “Your shift is over, get home before rain gets worse.”

“No no, I can stay.”

“I’m not here to eat actually,” Logan said, making you pull back a little.

“…Is Theo okay?” you asked, your stomach dropping as the thought hit you and he nodded his head.

“Oh he’s fine don’t worry,” he quickly assured you. “He was trying to name all the fish in the lake with his friends while I was leaving. I came to take you home actually.”

You blinked a couple of times.

“You drove all the way here from the institute just to take me home?” you asked just to make sure you had heard him right and he nodded again as if it was completely normal.

“You said your car is at the mechanic’s.”

One of these days, you were going to melt into a puddle in front of him.

“You really didn’t have to,” you said. “I’d hate to be a bother, and I’m sure you have other things to do, so I can just—”

“What did we say about you being too polite?” he asked, his voice almost chiding in a teasing manner, making warmth spread from your chest to your fingertips and a smile you couldn’t stop lit up your face, making you shift your weight, way too excited to just stand there.

“Um,” you said. “Just—just wait here okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “I won’t.”

You took a step back, and rushed to the kitchen, making the line cook turn his head.

“Hey, leaving already?”

“Yeah. Paul, where’s the pie?”

“Over there,” he said, motioning at the counter. “What’s the rush?”

You grabbed the pie to put it into the container while Stacey entered the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend, and more importantly, why didn’t you tell me he was this hot?!”

“What boyfriend?” Paul asked and Stacey motioned at the window.

“Look, right there.”

“He is not my boyfriend,” you said, your cheeks burning and Paul stole a look out the window, then let out a whistle.

“I was going to try to win you over but holy shit, that’s one hot dude.”

“And get this, he came here to drive her home.”

“He’s just being nice.”

“Car sex in the rain, got it.”

“He is my friend!”

“Oh really? So you’d be okay if I went out there and gave him my number?”

You blinked a couple of times and scoffed a laugh.

“Yeah but he…” you trailed off, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. “He has a girlfri—he’s married,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, nodding solemnly. “Yeah. He’s not wearing a ring because he is having it cleaned, and also he has—he has this condition that he can’t have sex with anyone. A disease.”

Out of the corner of your eye through the small kitchen window, you could see Logan tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“When he does, his partner’s… lower region just falls off, and it’s very gruesome, and if you haven’t heard of that condition, it’s because he’s like the only person in the world who has it, they named the disease after him,” you added. “Doctors call him a medical wonder.”

Stacey turned to Paul.

“She’s so gonna fuck him in the car.”

“She’s not gonna do that!” you exclaimed and cleared your throat, pushing the box into a plastic bag. “I’m—I’m leaving, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Theo doesn’t need a sibling yet, use protection!” Stacey teased you and you shook your head, then pushed the kitchen door and stepped out.

“Hey,” you said breathlessly, your whole face on fire and you held up the plastic bag. “The pie as promised.”

He gave you a calm smile, his eyes darting over you.

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“Um no, but it’s fine—” you started but before you had the chance to say anything else, he had already taken his leather jacket off to put it over your shoulders.

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Logan said as he opened the door for you and you stepped outside, Logan gently steering you to a truck with his hand on the small of your back, making you bite back a smile. As soon as you reached the truck and got in, you let out a breath and put the plastic bag on the back seat, then put your seatbelt on. Logan got in as well, then started the engine and began driving.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Really.”

“No problem.”

“I could just put it in the GPS or…” you trailed off when you noticed that there was no screen or phone or phone holder in sight so you nodded to yourself. “I don’t—you know, I’m against being a prisoner to technology myself so I can totally relate, and yeah I’ll just put my phone here.”

You quickly found your home address and touched the screen, then carefully placed it on the dashboard and stole a look at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he said. “As long as it’s not about my condition.”

“Your condition?”

“Yeah, that disease you were talking about just now?”

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping as embarrassment hit you, your cheeks growing hot and a whine escaped from your lips.

“You heard that?”

“Mm hm.”

You slipped a little in your seat, burying your face into your hands, the sight making him chuckle as you took a deep breath and lifted your head to look at him again.

“I can explain,” you said. “It’s just that…Stacey is—you know, she’s incredibly nice but I don’t think she’s over her last boyfriend and I was trying to spare her feelings. Wait, did you want to get her number? Because if you did—”

“No.”

A small spark of hope shot through your system.

“Oh,” you managed to say. “Okay. Um, sorry I made up a nonexistent STD about you.”

“No problem,” he said with a smirk. “But for future reference, you might want to go with the wife lie. I can’t get diseases.”

You nodded slowly. “Because of clean eating?”

“Because of the X-gene.”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him.

“Wait, what?” you asked. “But Theo got sick multiple times after his powers showed.”

“Not for every mutant,” he said. “My body heals itself.”

“Against everything?”

“Mm hm.”

“What if we had a car crash right now?”

“I’ve been in car crashes, healed in a second.”

“What if someone attacked you with a knife?”

“Happened before, healed instantly.”

“What if someone shot you?”

“Multiple people did in multiple wars. I healed.”

You tilted your head. “I’m sorry, wars?”

“Like I said,” he said after a beat. “My body heals itself. Against injuries, and time.”

You frowned slightly, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard and as soon as the thought hit you, you gasped.

“Oh my God, Logan,” you said. “Did you know Marie Antoinette?”

“What?” he asked with a grimace, turning to look at you better. “What is it with you and Theo and France? He asked me if I knew Napoleon the other day.”

You raised your brows. “Did you?”

“No!” he said. “No, I was born in 1832.”

Holy shit, Julie was right.

You did have a thing for older men but having a crush on an almost 200-year-old man was just a little bit excessive, even for you.

A silence fell upon the car and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, just in disbelief,” you muttered. “Do you miss it? Back then?”

He shook his head.

“Not really,” he said. “It was terrible. Now is better, it’s just a little too...”

“Chaotic?” you asked and he scoffed, then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “A little too chaotic.”

“I mean I wasn’t born in the 19th century but I know what you mean,” you said. “Seriously, if I could just live in a cabin in the woods with Theo and a cat, two dogs and a horse, I’d do it. I even have all their names.”

“What are the names?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you said. “The cat will be Catapult—”

“Are you seriously going to name your cat after a pun?”

“Damn right I am,” you said, counting with your fingers. “The dogs are Underdog and Overdog.”

“Jesus.”

“And the horse’s name used to be Princess Pink Sparkle Her Highness when I was six, but now I think I’m just going to name her Hi-Horse so that someone can tell me to get off my high horse one day.”

Logan looked like he was in actual pain for some reason.

“But listen, the list used to go like, a cat, a dog and a horse, and I figured like, if I get one dog, why not have two, you know?” you asked. “I couldn’t possibly leave Underdog without a friend, because as much as I love cats, they can be kind of assholes sometimes to dogs, they can’t help it, so that’s how Overdog came into being, and there were also ducks named Comma, Colon, Semicolon, and Exclamation, and their babies were going to be named Parenthesis, Dash and Hyphen but then I realized that would mean I'd need to have the cabin next to a lake, and ever since I watched that one creepy horror movie I’m terrified of lakes at night because I really don’t think we should mess with any bodies of water and—” you managed to stop yourself and cleared your throat. “Just…feel free to stop me when I do this.”

“I like it when you do it,” Logan stated without taking his eyes off the road, as if he was talking about the weather and your heart started pacing in your chest while you gawked at him.

“…People usually hate it.”

“People are idiots.”

“Someone I used to know would cover my mouth whenever I rambled too much.”

“And you didn’t break their hand?” he asked and you scoffed a laugh, then shook your head.

“Nope,” you muttered. “That sounds like a good idea though.”

“It is,” he said, reaching out to grab the cigar resting by the gear stick, and opened his window a little.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you said. “You smoke cigars?”

“Mm hm,” he said, patting his jeans for a lighter, then looked around the car before his hazel eyes fell on you. “I think my lighter is in the jacket pocket, would you…?”

“Oh sure!” you said and felt around the leather jacket over your shoulders, then pulled out the lighter and flicked it, the warmth caressing your hand for a moment before you held it out for him. Logan stole a look at you, his gaze stopping on your face illuminated by the flame before he leaned in to hold the tip of the cigar to the flame.

You had no idea why, but it felt strangely intimate.

“Thanks,” he murmured and you offered him a hesitant smile, flicking the cap of the lighter back before carefully placing it beside the gear stick.

“Sure,” you said, trying to snap yourself out of it. “Um, I used to smoke cigarettes. Mostly to look cool.”

“Did it work?”

“Not really,” you admitted as he stole a look at the GPS, then back at the road. “Never a cigar though, do you mind if I try it?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Corners of his mouth curled upwards. “Are you trying to look cool right now?”

“Hey, if you don’t think I’m cool after learning my future pets’ names, I don’t think a cigar is gonna help it.”

That coaxed a chuckle out of him and he held out his hand so that you could take the cigar from him. The moment your fingertips brushed against his skin, his hand twitched, a warmth spreading from your hand to your whole body. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster and you brought the cigar to your lips with a trembling hand, then took a drag.

“Don’t inhale—” Logan started but you had already inhaled the smoke, a sharp pain stabbing you in the chest as soon as you did. Logan pulled over and through the coughs, you realized you were right in front of your apartment but you couldn’t even thank him as you pounded your chest with your fist, then took a deep breath and wiped at your eyes with one hand while handing him the cigar back with the other.

“Ugh, that’s terrible!” you whined. “You smoke that willingly?”

“You’re not supposed to inhale it.”

You made a face and wiped at your eyes again, sniffling.

“Not supposed to inhale it?” you repeated as you straightened your back to look at him better, your brows pulled together in almost a petulant manner. “What’s the point of it then?”

The calm smile that graced his lips was almost taunting and he reached out to wipe at the remnant of a tear under your eye with a knuckle, your breath catching in your throat.

“The taste, princess,” he said, his deep voice sending an excited shiver down your spine as he pulled his hand back. “The taste is the point.”

…Oh.

Oh you were so going to melt in front of him one of these days.

That wasn’t supposed to sound as suggestive as it did, you were sure of it but that did nothing to stop the fire spreading over your cheeks, making you shift a little in your spot before he nodded to the window.

“Is this your place?”

You had to force yourself to drag your eyes away from him and looked outside even if you knew where you were, then nodded fervently.

“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah that’s—that’s me.”

A silence fell upon the car and you cleared your throat, trying to snap out of the daze you were in.

“Thank you,” you said after a beat. “For…for all of this, really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said and you looked outside again, now realizing the rain had stopped so you grabbed your phone off the dashboard, unbuckled your seatbelt and slipped the jacket off your shoulders, his unwavering gaze almost too hot on your skin.

“Good night Logan,” you said softly and opened your door to step out of the car, then made your way to the building. You climbed up the stairs, a giggle you couldn’t stop escaping from your lips as you unlocked your door, then stepped into your apartment and closed the door behind you before leaning back against it.

“Alright…” you breathed out, your heart beating in your ears. “Yeah, okay. I definitely have a crush.”

[4] - Ray of Light

[lilisettean]

Fogged Mirror | Zayne/Reader

About: You went to check on Zayne when you felt a sudden drop in temperature. You knew he was in the shower but... What if he was in pain again because of Evol overuse? Couldn't hurt to check right? Until one thing let to another and...

Pairing: Zayne/Reader

Notes: I saw the artwork for Zayne's Lingering Warmth and yeah. Mirrors. Fogged mirrors. And my brain ran with it hahaha...

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Hinted no protection. Age 18+ only please. Enjoy :)

“Open your eyes and look at yourself. Good… good girl.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open, doing your best to fight against the waves of pleasure that coursed through you at that moment and not let your eyes roll back. The vapor and water droplets that clung to the mirror in front of you made it difficult to see what Zayne wanted you to see, but you managed. 

And was it a sight. 

You were naked in front of the full length mirror the bathroom has, your skin flushed from the heat. And Zayne was right behind you; his hands grabbing your hips as he slid his hardened cock between your thighs, both of your towels laid forgotten on the damp floor. 

Fleetingly you thought, how did this even happen; how did you coming to check on Zayne when you felt a sudden drop in temperature after your shower led to you having his cock so sinfully close to your heat?

That thought, however, was quickly forced out of your mind the moment he pulled back, the reddish tip of his cock grazing your clit as he thrusted forward. You grapsed at his hands and arch your back, or as much as you could with him lifting and holding you in place, the sensations from him brushing your clit with the side of his cock and fucking your slick folds was so overwhelming that you let out the moan that you’ve been holding in for so long.

“Don’t hold back.” Zayne murmured against your ear, his breath tickling your earlobe. Was it your imagination or he had picked up the pace a little?

You fought against the cloudy haze of lust that had descended upon your mind and opened your eyes, wanting to see more of his reaction. Through the mirror you saw him bite his lip as he thrusted, his brows furrowed and face tense, as though controlling himself. The hands that were on your hips were making indents into your skin, and while you cannot see it with all the water vapor in the room, you could feel his precum leaking and dripping onto your inner thighs.

“Mmh– Zayne–” You breathed out, his thrusts growing sloppier and more erratic with each call of his name. You could feel his cock throbbing against your heat, and God, did you want him to just–

“Ah–!” You let out a startled moan when he suddenly slid a hand under your thigh and lifted it, giving himself better access as he pushed his weeping tip past your entrance. 

“Focus on me.” He said, nipping your earlobe as his other hand found your cheek and kept you in place, making you watch him slowly sheath his cock within you, inch by inch. It was as though he was making you acknowledge that you belonged to him now, that he was the only one that could ever see you in such a state.

You squirmed as his cock made its way deeper into you, his girth stretching you more than your fingers ever could. His grip on your thigh tightened when your walls fluttered around him, clenching him and tempting him to just give in to his lust for you.

“You alright?” He asked once he was completely within you, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head while waiting for you to adjust. He grunted when you clenched around him to test the waters, his cock twitching in anticipation in response.

At your nod, he kissed the top of your head once more, before holding your cheek in place, rendering you unable to look away from the full length mirror.

“Now watch.” Zayne whispered as he slowly dragged his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in. “Good girl.” 

[425599167]

Fallout: New Vegas is all about rebuilding society in the Mojave, and the three given factions all attempt to do so by recreating the past. The NCR models itself on the now-destroyed United States, with all the problems involved. Caesar created the Legion in the image of Rome because he believed it could best thrive in the wasteland. Mr. House is arguably the most forward-thinking with his focus on technology and eventual interplanetary travel, but he still rebuilt New Vegas from his nostalgic recollections of the city. Building on the past isn't wrong, the problem is these three factions don't appear to be learning from anything that happened.

NCR characters never directly acknowledge that they're following the example of a society that destroyed itself. Caesar criticizes them for this, believing the republic functioned best while under the quasi-monarchy of Aradesh and Tandi. But Caesar ignores how 1) Rome also fell and 2) he's confronting the same problem as a brain tumor is on the verge of killing him. Even if you treat his tumor, he's still mortal. Caesar was given an education, and his knowledge of strategy and history let him build the Legion, which he then made anti-intellectual and revisionist. The society he created cannot replace him, and will fragment when he dies. House is more contemptuous of the pre-war world, but he still brought it back, and specifically assigned the Omertas with the role of ruthless mobsters who will kill anyone in their way. Apparently he thought that was a good idea.

This extends into the DLCs, too. Elijah plans to use the Sierra Madre to wipe the slate clean and restore the Brotherhood of Steel to their position of unrivaled power, with himself back as Elder. Every day, Joshua Graham feels the pain of being burned. The Think Tank scientists are all stuck in loops, stuck in the past, stuck with their flaws centuries after believing they overcame their humanity. For all my grievances with Lonesome Road, it fits the pattern, as Ulysses saw a new society forming, saw it burn, and couldn't move on. If you let Ulysses live, he has similar criticisms of the NCR, Legion, and House. They're all idealized recreations, like the Vera Keyes hologram. Let go, begin again.

Benny may be a weird mix of dangerous and absurd, but he contrasts the other factions well. He jumped at the chance to join House, fought his tribe's previous leader to make it happen, then planned to take down House, too. House dismisses Benny as not understanding complex technologies due to his tribal upbringing, but he built a computer lab attached to his suite and studies technology as best he can. Benny doesn't want to relive the past, he wants to move forward, he wants something better. You can kill him and take his role, or, when facing certain death at Caesar's hands, he'll explain his vision and ask you to see it through.

After replaying everything, though the other endings have understandable support, I think the Independent route fits the story's themes best, the only one where something definitively new is being built. The Courier isn't remaking anything. Part of this is simply open-ended roleplaying, allowing the player to imagine the character's completed goal. If you choose one of the other three, the Courier can work to correct their faction's flaws and counter the destructive nostalgia affecting them. The Independent ending isn't necessarily the "best" for the Mojave, the Courier's morality and a hundred other decisions determine that, but it is the most compelling conclusion to the story.

[ryomaandgundhamkin]

Okay. I have a lot to explain. First:

Listen- I am REALLY sorry for not drawing a lot. For the last month (by this point it’s probably been a month), I’ve been really, really behind on drawing and TSAMS lore. I don’t really feel that I’m apart of the fandom anymore. I just lost all my energy to actually dedicate myself to the lore of the show. I feel exhausted. Plus, school isn’t helping. For the last two weeks it’s been kind of hard for me, I mean aside from my trip, but then I had to catch up on work then do 1 project. I had two tests today.

Art block is hitting hard and I hope you understand. I just feel like I want to draw, I have a lot of ideas, I just can never get a result I actually like. It’s a process of drawing and deleting all my progress. I feel like it’s either 1., I make too much art, which in turn exhausts me further, or 2., I don’t make art at all. I’ve just been lurking around Tumblr and going around, like “oh I’m so going to draw this”, but I’m realizing that I definitely do not have enough energy to draw anything TSBS right now.

My main focus at the moment is school and school only. I hope you understand this because I had a shit ton of late work I had to do from the days I missed while I was away (7 fucking pages), and I had to zoom through that, THEN I had the science test. I had my math test today and I did well and now I’m tired af. I just don’t feel like drawing in general, period. Coloring maybe, but I just have too many things to do OUTSIDE of drawing online on here. Basically this is just me taking a small break. I’m sorry that content may be slower on my account, but I feel like I need this or else I will eventually just actually pass out from the stress. No one did nothing wrong aside from me. I’m just torturing myself. My brain hurts and my sleep schedule is damaged. Planning events is NOT fun and every weekend, I seriously just want a break, but OH someone’s coming over or we’re doing something or we’re going somewhere. I seriously cannot take a break unless I have NOTHING TO DO, which is kind of impossible considering my mother’s plans.

I just don’t feel like drawing. I feel like I’m starting to sleep more early everyday. My mind is a mess. It hurts. It hurts.

I’m just so sorry about this. I hope you guys understand I may not be in the best mental state (even if I act like I’m not, and same at with school, @kiwikay3 …), and I don’t feel like drawing for a bit. Just expect me to give you updates once in a while and maybe that’s it. Just don’t expect a ton of content or doodles from me.

This problem has nothing to do with you guys, I just want you to know this and know what to expect from me from now on. I’ll catch up with all my art requests and things like that eventually, I just feel like school has taken a toll on me. On my health. But, just myself overall. I don’t want anyone to worry. I’ll probably be active less and less so it’s fine if you unfollow me or something because I feel like I’ve already failed you all, and I’ve already reached the peak of my art journey (mid-October or so). I’m so sorry but I feel like when I write these I just get so emotional and I can’t really describe any of it in words. I’m probably going to sleep after this before I actually start crying. I’m actually so annoyed and sad and I just feel so many emotions. My brother is not helping, because HE does not care about his physical health so me and my parents do instead.

Sorry. Thank you all.

I feel like I’m going to have a mental breakdown fuck i hate this

[utilitycaster]

if you're up to elaborating, i would love to hear more about your complicated feelings on Taliesin's reads of this campaign, because that's something that's been itching my brain but I'd been having a hard time pinpointing why and I'm interested to hear your thoughts!

So I think it's best summarized in part as a combination of what was said in this post I just reblogged and these tags from @kerosene-in-a-blender on this post:

#yeeeaaaahhhh#ngl it seems like the characters and parts of the cast got so caught up in the potential moral dilemma of interventionist gods#that they forgot the gods of exandria aren't particularly interventionist#critical role#critical role spoilers#cr spoilers

Ashton feels like they learned something about their own arrogance and assumptions with Shardgate...and then it just vanished. And the fact that Taliesin genuinely read that as what was supposed to happen when like 3-4 authority figures, some of whom (Allura) have existed since Campaign 1 as People To Listen To had said "This is a bad idea" in plain language does give me pause because like...with all due respect, I get why Ashton would do this anyway! But come on, man, how do you hear that and not go "oh maybe it's a bad idea."

I don't want to read in too much to cooldown and 4SD either but I really do just feel that like...some of the cast, and Taliesin isn't alone in this but definitely seems to be using it the most in-game, have come under the impression that the purpose of this campaign is specifically to upend everything we knew...but that idea is just an assumption that is not supported, and as I've said repeatedly, there is no situation in which the world is not drastically changed - there's going to be either a hostile alien invasion, or a friendly alien migration, but either one will be monumental within Exandrian history, and that's not counting the establishment of the Accord/the collapse of local institutions in both the Dwendalian Empire and Bassuras/ If one cannot see any possibility for vast change within the world other than killing/driving out the gods, I don't know how to address this nicely. This is an uncreative and stupid position that I can't engage with because it's so stupid. It's like saying World War II didn't change anything in our world because at the end of it the US and USSR both still existed largely intact. So the over-focus on only one means of change in a way that feels based on an interpretation of this campaign's purpose that isn't even stated anywhere is telling and deeply frustrating.

As the second post indicates, it feels like some of the cast, Taliesin especially, got caught up in a theological argument of divine intervention that personally I had a great time debating in Hebrew school when I was 13, but is not ultimately true in Exandria (or reality, for that matter). On some level it's like maybe read some Harold Kushner and you'll calm down; it feels like you're arguing against like, some very real religious tenets (that are not exclusively Christian for once) but in a story where that's not actually a problem.

I'd throw in that Bells Hells sit in this awkward place of not being nobodies (or Nobodies) anymore but many are still acting like it and Ashton is at the forefront. Indeed, look at the name "the Nobodies." The problem is that Ashton is a Somebody now. He's not like, the ruler of a city, or an ancient dragon, or a god. But they're someone who has the personal raw power and the connections to survive an ill-considered second shard absorption. They're someone who is easily going to survive a fall out of a window, and who can't be bound into service. They are someone who has been entrusted by the world to assist in saving it, and they're too fixated on the gods not personally saving them to consider the vast potential harm to others, and I think it's not inherently out of callousness but rather that they've rather abruptly risen from "orphan criminal who expected to be dead by 30" to "guy tasked to save the world" but they have no option but to rise to the occasion, as the Raven Queen said. To change the world, he must change himself, and I feel like Taliesin, who often enjoys the idea of characters who don't change, is perhaps too wed to that concept for this particular narrative. And, for what it's worth: I've said it before that my personal preference is to keep the gods in place...but I would genuinely be MILES happier with a party that decisively had decided to kill the gods. I would not agree with their decision, but anything is better than this indecision. And since Ashton is pretty staunchly in favor of killing the gods and the rest of the party is varying degrees of strongly against (Orym, Braius), weakly against (Chetney, Fearne, Imogen, increasingly Laudna) and unsure but worried specifically about the mortal impact (Dorian) at some point it's like. Either say "I don't like this, but this is the party's plan" or leave. The decisiveness matters on an individual level too; because Bells Hells does not have good internal methods of resolving conflict for reasons stated above and below, at some point it's like. You have to give it up because no one will make you. If Ashton genuinely cannot or will not yield on this, either commit to betraying the party (totally valid, could be a great story) or have them leave; if Ashton does trust the party, have them reluctantly give in. A party-wide choice must be made and fast. The party is aimless because they are all pulling in different directions and it all cancels out, but Ashton is definitely contributing extensively to that agonizing stasis.

I suppose I should wrap up with what I've been saying a lot but should probably go on this post which is that a lot of the flaws in this campaign are not any singular person's fault. I really do feel like they began with the fact that Matt was clearly building to this specific story, and Bells Hells were not a party terribly suited to it in the first place and then were given an earlier narrative that, because it was heavily on rails to get them to the solstice setpiece, failed to give them the tools to become people who would be prepared for this endgame. I think Matt really wanted the cast to make the decisions here, and did not have a specific decision in mind, and now they're all finding that they're playing characters who can't make that decision. It's a culmination of a lot of smaller out-of-game choices that have failed to gel into a coherent whole. When I say the Raven Queen was right, and if they are not ready for this, to go home, I don't think the party should be tpk-ed or anything, but yeah, if they can't decide what to do when they are essentially tasked with killing the BBEG and diffusing the universe-shattering bomb, they should abdicate. I don't think a story in which the heroes fail is a bad one. I know Call of the Netherdeep has been a touchstone in the fandom throughout this campaign and there's one possible ending to that that's sort of unsatisfying, but the unsatisfying nature itself makes it an interesting story to me. I think this campaign ending with the party saying "we can't do this" is vanishingly unlikely, and complaints aside I think they will probably make a decision now but it all feels exceedingly doylist - Bells Hells are the characters the cast happens to be playing for this climactic final moment so I guess they will play those characters, and those characters will have to make a choice so that the final moment happens, but it doesn't feel terribly organic.

[lordfreg]

Hello all,

TW for p3d0ph!l!a, z00ph!l!a

Today, I have gotten some allegations against myself for being a pedo + zoophile. This is not true.

As many of you know who are in the TMNT fandom and enjoy the spicy side of these turtles, you often get accused of this. It is unfortunate but true. I knew this was coming, but I feel like I must explain myself further.

As you know, I have a patron. This was actually made prematurely, and is sort of bad, so that will be closing shortly (I apologize). And on this patron, is the option to see "sexy turtles", but nobody has signed up for this and I have no patron exclusive content (yet).

Apparently, this is pedophilia and zoophilia.

(They have conveniently left out the "mutant" part)

This is not true. All the turtles are aged up, which I thought would be implied in the fact that I only (really) draw for the EPA au, and they are visibly, mentally and emotionally older than their cannon counterparts. I.e. wrinkles, more pronounced features, bulkier.

This may be my mistake for wording this poorly, or not taking the proper measures, but you would think the implication, and my two different art styles, would be a major difference.

Anyway, the zoophilia claim is also ridiculous because... seriously? My explanation for this is that they are not only canonically human, they also have been confirmed human DNA. Enough to make them stand on two legs, walk, talk, read, cry, enough human to make them, well.. human.

Another reason is that (rise) Donnie has autism; which is a brain malformation. This means his brain is big enough to not only be malformed, but still functioning. A real turtles brain isn't big enough to be deformed in that way, and if it was, the turtles would unfortunately die.

Continuing, I had the claim that I was "15" because I had put a 18+ only warning on my content. I am not.

AN IMPORTANT ELEMENT; I have put the 18+ warning not because of the sex, but because it contains extreme violence and triggering topics. Sex is NOT the main focus of this AU, or any of my works unless stated "this is for fun/this is because I wanted to/this is explicit" etc. My au is to delve into trauma, war, violence, sexual trauma (to both male and female), and generally bring awareness to things and help support people. It is NOT just smut.

This, again, could have been my sever lack of forethought and under-explaining my au, simply because I didn't actually know what my au would be about/contain. Again, I take responsibility for my poor wording and lack of (more) warnings.

Also, this person is actually just bullying me with my old self ship art (which i still love and adore), so... pity points?

More on myself; I'm coming to the realization (after years of being hypersexual), that sex is not a priority to me, nor is it something that I feel a strong compulsion to make/indulge in. I am not a sexual deviant, meaning I do NOT support harmful sexual behaviors. Zoophilia is actively taking advantage of animals, which I am not, and will never do.

It is unfortunate that some people genuinely cannot control themselves, but I am not one of those people.

I honestly have no idea what I've done to this person to make them put me on blast, and whatever it is, I'm sorry. I will, again, be taking down my patron page to start over, and I apologize to my patrons already, but it's sucky.

Again, sorry about this and for everyone who goes through this. I am sorry, dear friend, that you're writhing with jealousy. And I am sorry, patrons, that I have to close my patron. I love all my followers, and I try my best to send the "Thanks for the follow" to show my appreciation.

Myself and @lexiechr will continue to work on the EPA au, and that will be posted when ready.

(Also, my Instagram is now private because I don't want harassment nor people thinking I'm a bad person. I am just being bullied and bring a socially awkward idiot about it.)

Again, much love, Jorjie :3

[island-in-the-shadows]

On Felix Catton & Disgust/Desire

I had been waiting for a long while now to write this post. I wanted to do another full re-watch before I got into it because the ideas for this have been sitting in my mind for a long time. This is going to be a long post and, hopefully, not super pretentious. Most of us fans of Saltburn know, to some degree or another, that the core themes of the film revolve around disgust, desire, and obsession. And the biggest entry point to discuss this is the actions of our protagonist, Oliver Quick re the object of his disgust/desire/obsession Felix Catton.

I've written before that I believe that Oliver did know Felix and that Felix was emotionally vulnerable and candid with Oliver. I further stated that we, the audience, are forbidden from knowing the details of this intimacy because Oliver does not want us to truly know Felix. This means that the bits we get of Felix are small and very subtle. It means that we can interpret Felix's core personality, true intent, true desires in a litany of ways. My opinion is, realistically, no more valid than anyone else's. But for today, I wanted to discuss what I view, from the bits that we get, is Felix's relation with the core themes of the film. And, because I saw a truly heinous takes about a different fandom I'm in and I don't want to think about it, my brain said: hey...let's talk about Felix Catton and his disgust and desire.

Pt. 1: "Only rich people can afford to be this filthy."

When Oliver says the above, he and Felix are in Felix's messy and disgusting dorm room at Oxford. When you take a closer look at the room (which I admit was difficult on my first few views because Felix is lit and positioned to take all of your focus), it is a total shit show. There's clothes everywhere, empty containers everywhere, other unidentifiable debris...honestly wouldn't shock me if there was some used condom somewhere. We know from Oliver that, not only does it look like chaos, it smells terrible. However, Felix is unbothered. He is concerned only with the heat which, in this case, is an external force that he cannot control no matter his good looks, his charms, his pedigree, or his money. By what we see, Felix is quite happy and content in the filth. It is only when Oliver points out the filth and points out that Felix won't take care of it, that Felix reacts negatively.

Felix, as we know, is very accustomed to his messes being cleaned up for him. Before we even get to Saltburn it's a safe assumption to make. Prior to college/uni, he would've gone to some posh boarding school or other. I doubt that they were made to clean everything in boarding school (though if any of you know please let me know). We also know that wealthy people tend to have hired staff who clean for them. This is a young man who has never had to clean up his spilled milk and it has never even occurred to him to do it.

However, the important bit to note is not that Felix is messy and that it doesn't occur to him to clean. What's important to note is that the mess simply does not bother him. Just because he is born to extreme wealth and privilege does not mean that he would have to be this way. There's been germaphobe rich people or people who prefer to have a minimalistic space or any number of things. Regardless of wealth, some people are fine with mess and some people require mess to be done away with immediately. Felix is in the former category. He certainly must notice the mess at some point (even if, clearly, he's nosebleed to it) but he is comfortable in his space.

This is also true of his room at Saltburn. We barely see it, I know, but let's take a look at that glossy af pic of it from the Architectural Digest Article...

There is crap EVERYWHERE. The more you look at it the more crap you find. You can't even say that it's perfectly clean either because there's dirty clothes in spots, there's multiple pillows on the ground, there's a random used water glass, there's either toilet paper or paper towels on the night stand, the bed isn't perfectly made, I could go on. Chaos and filth and mess is, technically, Felix's natural habitat. It's the kind of mess that is surrounded by opulence, certainly, but it's still a mess.

Only rich people can afford to be this messy because they can also dictate when and where their staff cleans. Presumably, there are things in Felix's bedroom (perhaps the toilet paper/paper towels which have a...purpose) which he has instructed Duncan to leave alone. Or Elspeth has put terms for how often the maids come in the rooms. It could be framed in a multitude of ways. The point stands that Felix can exist in these chaotic and, even, disgusting spaces because he chooses to be. What his privilege does, then, is afford him absence from judgment.

We see the staff at Saltburn clean up after the party. We see that they quietly replaced a broken mirror before anyone can question the cracks. We never see the staff judge. Do they? Certainly they must, we all have opinions. But do they express their judgement to the masters of the house? No. It's not their place to do so. They are considered staff and therefore their opinions do not come into play for the Cattons nor would they want to hear them. Even Duncan's genuine unease and grief after Felix dies is mostly kept under control. He's not paid to express his emotions or his thoughts, after all.

And why go into all of this? Because Felix is content to live in the mess, to revel in the gross and in some version of the abject. What Felix cannot handle is being confronted with his pleasure. To me, this (along with wanting to separate Oliver from staff when the younger boy starts actively cleaning) is the main reason why he snaps when Oliver points out the disgusting state of the dorm. He does not need or want to know how he fits outside a specific role that he was born to play and, likely, believes he has to play. Even if it didn't occur to him to clean, he could've used his wealth and influence to find someone to clean for him. But he didn't. Because it doesn't bother him. Oliver being bothered and pointing out that Felix is so wealthy that he can live in the filth is what bothers him, instead.

Pt. 2 "Was it? Was it awful?"

I am going to keep this section short, because there have been much better posts about this and I, personally, go back and forth on this all the time. Regardless, Felix having an interest in a made up fantasy of a shitty childhood and what he can, likely, envision as some Dickensian nightmare of a situation falls into his relation to disgust and desire. What Felix knows of true poverty and addiction likely comes from media or exaggerated stories from people who have been in contact with someone who was an addict or something to that extent. His imagination must be running wild with theories. And while I do think that he did have good intentions regarding Oliver when it comes to this, his demeanour also shows an attraction to the grotty aspects of it. Oliver only ever calls him out on this, to a degree, in the maze. Before this, Felix can be interested in what he imagines is the horror of Oliver's childhood but not be caught out as being a tragedy whore or someone with a saviour complex or anything else, because his interest is not being pointed out. Again, he has an interest or desire for mess and chaos as long as it is not pointed out.

Pt. 3 "You're supposed to be here with me."

Let's, briefly, talk about queerness. Let's talk about how Felix has an image to maintain. How he has expectations put upon him. Yes, he has privilege and wealth beyond understanding, but these things often have a tradeoff. Celebrities, for example, have to forfeit a lot of their privacy. Royalty and nobility (regardless of country) often forfeit chunks of their privacy and the possibility of living outside of a script (publicly, at any rate). Felix CANNOT go off script.

He is implied to be the heir to Saltburn and everything that comes with it: money, land, title, expectations. Like in the days of old, it's probably expected of him to produce an heir. It's also expected of him to marry a lady from his class in order to produce said heir. And, back in 2006/7, people were less acceptating of LGBTQ+ people that they are now, and Same-Sex marriage was not a thing in the UK and it wouldn't be for another 7 or so years. So Farleigh, who will inherit nothing and only ever be given scraps, can embrace his queerness; Felix cannot.

Personally, I believe that Felix did have some sort of interest in Oliver. It's not just in the fact that he is possessive of Oliver to the point of disregarding his family. It's in all the Bambi eyed looks that we see Felix give Oliver. You could argue that these are exaggerations from Oliver but then, how do you explain the POV shots we get of Felix looking at Oliver? How they are also romance coded, lustful, pinky and fluffy? There is something there. To what extent there was something is pure conjecture. But, I personally believe that he had some kind of feelings for Oliver but could not express those feelings and, to an extent, found his feelings for Oliver disgusting.

Even if his mother is, in her way, tolerant of queer people, this does not mean that she would be ok with Felix being with a man. I doubt his father, who is in his 60s at the time, would be any happier about it. Again, Felix needs to have an heir and take over Saltburn. So, at most, they would've tolerated that Felix had a "friend" tucked away somewhere that Felix could go to every so often. Queerness is not the desired outcome and so, at some point, Felix would've had to separate any feelings from the matter. And, hypothetically, in boarding school any hand jobs etc. from other boys would be viewed as part of a norm that exists within the realm of "no homo."

So, given he has been emotionally intimate with Oliver and, given that he has felt more for Oliver than he probably thinks he should, he feels disgust as much as he feels desire. He can, and personally I think does, want Oliver, but feels disgusted by his feelings and has a strong desire to keep them channeled in the "appropriate" way. Just the same, he gets jealous and he does not want to share. He cannot abide by Oliver being free to pursue another partner (guarantee he would be equally as incensed if he had found out about Farleigh and it probably would've slightly registered had Oliver actually slept with Indabel). It's specifically a slap in the face that it's Venetia who has done this kind of thing before and who is allowed to be physical with these friends of Felix's with whom Felix does not feel he could or should be physically intimate. Thus, the possession and the jealousy and the spurned wife behaviour of it all.

Pt. 4 "You make my fucking blood run cold."

Bref, I think Felix had good intentions but poor thinking skills when he wanted to take Oliver to his parents' house. Multiple posts have discussed this bit and I do think he wanted to further trauma bond with Oliver the way they further trauma bonded when Oliver's dad "died", afterwards, per the script, they were "closer than ever." And then they had that intimate moment on the bridge and spent some time there completely alone instead of being at a giant party. I think he thought that the experience would bring them closer and that he would be there to, in his way, protect Oliver. And I still think this plays in to all the little ways in which Felix desires disgust and is disgusted by his desires. But he does it anyway.

The betrayal of trust and intimacy that follows has to feel like a bomb has gone off in Felix's mind. But what's worse for him, again this is solely my opinion, is that he still desires Oliver regardless. It might not have fully formed in his head and he then dulled it with drugs and alcohol and with his shoddy attempt at fucking Indabel in the maze, but possibly the inkling of why Oliver lied the way he did had entered his brain. Oliver already tried to explain. Told Felix in the hallway when they got back that he wanted to be Felix's friend. And Felix likely relived his entire relationship with Oliver including what Oliver just told him. And, to me, Felix was not entirely opposed to it. He didn't immediately kick out Oliver or cause too much of a fuss. He wanted space. He wanted to not think about it for a while. But Oliver forced his hand.

Again, here we have a Felix who is disgusted by his desire. A Felix who, deep down, knows that he likes that Oliver lied. That he likes that Oliver desires him so much that he would do anything for him. Likes that, despite NEVER wanting anyone to know the most debauched parts of him, Oliver is close to knowing all of his darkest parts and loving him for them just the same. But a Felix who, nonetheless, does not allow himself to revel in the filth once it's pointed out.

And Oliver points it out. In a big way. "Everyone puts on a show for Felix! [...] doesn't this just prove how much of a good friend I actually am? How well I actually know you!" He does know him. Felix knows this. Felix CANNOT go off script. Felix cannot acknowledge his love for things that are disgusting or less than savoury. So too he cannot allow them or acknowledge them here. And then we have something in the script vs. how Jacob actually looked that's what inspired me to write this overly long post in the first fucking place.

This is not the exact beat. Because this is after Felix says his line about his blood running cold. The vibe is the same, though. Regardless...is THAT the fact of disgust? Because to me, that is not disgust. That is some form of desire that most mortals will never experience. But then...it also IS disgust. Because the two are intertwined for him. Because he desires because of the disgust at the situation and at the lengths of debasement Oliver will go to to please him. He is a boy who loves mess and chaos and who makes his home there. And, to whatever extent, his heart could've made a home in the mess and chaos and filth that Oliver brought to the table. Even if Felix has to be disgusted at his desires and prevent them. Even if Oliver took any option or opportunity away from Felix.

Oliver makes his blood run cold, but Felix never said that was a bad thing. And it isn't. Just as Oliver revels in the filth of bodies and their fluids and the inferred possession that comes with them, so too Felix revels in the filth of places and things he shouldn't want and things he can only truly savour in the shadows where no one points them out.

TL;DR Felix is as much of a freak as Oliver is, though in a different way. He is shown to be comfortable and even like messy and gross things but, he only does so when it's not pointed out. He can be, to a point, physically close and emotionally intimate with Oliver and, even partially overlook a betrayal of this intimacy, but only if it's never pointed out. Only if it doesn't break with the expectations and social script on which he has been raised and to which he has to stick. He serves to demonstrate the relationship with disgust and desire as much as Oliver does, but his relation is more subtle and harder to see. And maybe, just maybe, given time, he would've at least bent the script.

--------------------------------------0--------------------------------------

Super sorry for how long this is, I just needed to get it out! Thanks to @ollieapologist for being my biggest cheerleader about this post. Sorry if this is incoherent!

[forgedsplendor]

Gojo Satoru: or, how the eyes are the windows into the soul.

everyone and their mothers have talked about the kfc breakup scene to hell and back, we've gotten a dozen and more think pieces about the episode on twitter and tumblr and wherever else, but I really needed to add my two cents because it's been on my mind ever since I watched the episode.

something fun I've noticed about mappa's adaption of jjk is the way they animate gojo's technique—specifically in relation to his eyes.

in season one, gojo's eyes were always animated very... otherworldly.

they're always glowing and sparkling in this weird, uncanny way, which is kind of the point: gojo is the six eyes, after all, and considering the anime's animated and colored medium compared to the original manga's black and white, paneled format, it's a good way to adapt and demonstrate gojo's powers in the way the manga cannot. it also serves to visually separate gojo from the rest of the characters; as the strongest, he is different from the rest.

however, when season two's teasers were first released, there's a particularly interesting detail...

... his actually normal looking eyes.

and, yeah! that makes sense. as much as gojo and geto's high school selves love to tout around the title of "the strongest", it's undeniable that compared to his twenty-eight year old self, this gojo is much weaker, incapable of holding up his technique indefinitely, and incapable of using red, hollow purple, his domain expansion, and reverse curse technique: all of which his adult self are using passively.

so, i had personally figured that these were the eyes of an unawakened gojo. that once he mastered reverse curse technique, his eyes would start to glow like his adult self. however... that was not the case! as we can see...

... they still glow! but only when he was using his technique. once he puts it down...

... the glowing fades as well.

especially in these last few screenshots, mappa establishes the difference between "invulnerable" ( untouchable, literally, with his infinity technique up ) gojo and "vulnerable" ( infinity down, so things can now touch him ) gojo, both literally and mentally. ( let's put a pin in that. ) after geto's reassurance gojo physically lets down his defences of his technique, and thinks that that they're safe... leading to toji taking advantage of that naïveté, and the rest is history.

it's important to note both, as it puts his adult self into a new context: we know that after coming back from the dead, gojo's mastery of reverse curse technique allows him to use his infinity indefinitely without frying his brain.

it's funny, because this parallels his way of coping, as we see here:

curse technique reversal: red. the opposite to blue's attract, it instead repels.

after going through the traumatic events of hidden inventory, gojo... feels nothing. he pushes away these feelings, numbing himself to them instead.

he activates his infinity...

... and becomes untouchable. or, in other words...

... invulnerable. ( physically and emotionally. )

at the beginning of episode five, we don't get very many close shots of gojo's eyes, but he is in the middle of demonstrating his new grasp of infinity; in contrast to geto's spiral, the main focus of the episode and premature death as a whole, we get shots of gojo's back, his gaze obstructed by his spectacles, his face obscured entirely...

... or simply just far away.

to be fair, this all is in geto's point of view, and is used specifically to higlight the canyon that's opened up between the two, but the visual language is the same. gojo is untouchable.

well. up until...

though it's hard to see the state of his eyes with his spectacles in the way. but this is very quickly remedied just a few minutes later.

... his eyes are not glowing.

infinity is not activiated. his technique is down. gojo satoru is vulnerable. literally, in the sense that his technique is not in use, because he is dealing with a friend and not an enemy user, and mentally, because he is angry and upset and horrified and in shock in a way he was not with amanai's death.

as we know, gojo is not one to react emotionally. when kuroi was kidnapped, he did not worry: simply thought of another solution. when toji ambushed them, he did not panic: simply asked geto to complete the mission as he stayed behind to fight him off.

however, with geto's defection...

he yells, makes himself bleed.

when amanai died, he'd said he felt nothing. he'd floated in the air, weightless, marveling at the beauty of the world above and around him.

with geto's defection...

while nakamura's voice acting and the incredible animated character acting was more than enough to get his anguish across, using the tells of gojo's technique as well was the icing on the cake.

the eyes are the windows to the soul, after all, and in this moment, intentionally or not, his were blown wide open as his world crumpled apart.

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: mentions of blood, mdni

Chapter Three

"We gotta to take her to the hospital."

"You know we can't do that."

"We can because she's fuckin' dying!"

My body felt like it was floating before my focus settled on a steady throb of pain in my lower stomach.

"Butcher, she's not dying. Her pulse is strong, and since I stitched her up, she hasn't bled whatsoever."

"Then, why the hell ain't she wakin' up?"

"Because she's exhausted. She lost a great amount of blood and wore herself out trying to fucking wrestle you in the van."

Blood.

That word caught my attention. I remembered blood and lots of it as it painted Butcher's knuckles a deep red.

"If she's not up in thirty minutes, I'm takin' her to the emergency room, end of story."

"Butcher, you, and I, and fucking Jesus Christ himself, know that if we step one foot into any medical facility, we will be taken into custody. It's not worth the risk."

"She is. She's worth the risk.

It was quiet for either a few minutes or a few hours. Both timeframes felt the same in my hazy state.

A long sigh broke the spell, followed by more dialogue. "Jo is ok, I promise you. Now, I need to grab the bag of fluids that I left in my room. While I'm gone, don't you dare think about running off with her. I am the only medical professional she needs right now."

Footsteps trailed off as my eyes slowly blinked open to take in my surroundings. I was in the basement of the pawn shop, on the couch that I was still convinced had bed bugs.

"Mornin', sunshine."

The Cockney accent drew my attention, and I looked up at Butcher's tired face. His hazel eyes bored into mine, and memories from earlier flooded my brain.

"Here ya' go," Butcher said, offering me a glass of water.

Upon attempting to sit up and accept the drink, I gasped as my abdomen screamed in pain.

"Woah, there. It's a little soon for you to be up and at 'em, doll. Here, lemme help ya'," Butcher said gently as he laid me back down on the couch and eased a hand under my head, propping it up so I could drink.

Grateful, I eagerly gulped the water, finishing the whole glass in mere seconds and earning a chuckle from Butcher.

"There, ya' go. Down the hatch."

He slowly lowered my head back on my pillow and placed the empty glass on the coffee table behind him before turning back to face me, studying my face in great detail.

"You gave us a right scare there, love."

"At least I know you guys care," I shrugged. "Now, when I do actually drop dead, I'll be expecting a funeral with the works—fireworks, I mean. See if you can get Celine Dion, too. I heard she's available."

I expected another laugh from Billy, but instead, he looked more solemn than ever. His eyes trailed down to where my shirt, a clean one without blood, rode up on my stomach, showing the gauze that MM had wrapped me in.

"I thought I had lost ya'," He mumbled.

It was quiet between us due to the fact that I didn't know how to react to Butcher's surprising words.

"I guess I can relate to the feeling," I finally said as my face hardened. "Since you left me for three months with no goodbye. I thought you were dead."

Butcher bowed his head, "Jo, you have no idea how much I fuckin' regret leaving ya'. But I had no other choice."

"You always have a choice, Butcher." My voice grew louder as my emotions rose in powerful waves. "And you didn't leave me. You fucking abandoned me!"

He cupped my face, but I turned my head, rejecting the physical affection. "Don't," I whispered. "It's too late. You can't just walk back in here and act like nothing happened. Like you didn't fuck me, and then throw me away like garbage the next day."

Butcher's nostrils flared as he rose to his impressive height, towering over me. "Now, listen here-"

"Ok, I'm breaking this up," MM called, reentering the room. "Jo is very weak right now, and I cannot allow her to undergo any extra stress."

"I'm not weak," I quipped back, whipping my head to gaze at MM as he leaned over the back of the couch.

Unconvinced, he asked, "Really? Let me see you try and stand up then."

When I didn't move to rise from the sofa, MM shook his head. "You need fluids and rest. Luckily, neither is hard to obtain." He held up a bag of fluids before hanging it on an IV stand next to him.

"Now," he continued, doling out commands. "Close your eyes and go to sleep. I'll check your stitches in a couple of hours."

"But I'm not tired," I argued.

"The bags under your eyes say otherwise."

"Well, this couch is uncomfortable," I grumbled. "It hurts my back."

"Alright, we'll get you to your room then," MM sighed.

Before I could stop him, Butcher scooped me up into his arms, and I protested loudly. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Oi, shut your pie hole," he whispered harshly, fanning the side of my face with his breath that stank of whiskey and dominance. "I'm takin' care of you whether ya' like it or not."

I fought an internal battle before closing my lips and fixing my eyes into narrow slits.

"Good girl."

Air was quickly expelled from my lungs as I exhaled, willing myself not to rub my legs together as an ache settled between them.

But it was no use. Butcher knew the effect he had on me, and from the corner of my eye, I could see a smirk plastered on his face as he carried me to my room, full of arrogance after winning our little quarrel.

"Dontcha worry, darlin'. When you're on your feet again, you can beat me up for being the bad man that I am."

I didn't respond because I refused to be baited into another argument with Butcher. Instead, I kept a pout in place and stared straight ahead, thinking of all the ways that I could cause him physical harm. After all, he had just given me permission to, and it was proving to be quite invigorating.

"And maybe when you're all done, you'll fancy bending over and lettin' me enjoy a meal or two. Because if my memory serves me, you seemed to enjoy it last time."

"Well, the last time was the only time," I curtly informed him as Butcher gently dropped me down on my bed. I inwardly chastised myself for falling for his trap when he flashed his crazy eyes above me.

"Mhm, that's what they all say."

"Well, I mean it," I snapped, pulling my blanket up to my chin as if it would shield me from Butcher's snarky words.

"Sure ya' do," Butcher said condescendingly as he patted me on the head before leaving the room.

I was relieved to be out of his company and was disappointed when he returned, the IV stand with the bag of fluids still hanging from it in tow and other needed supplies grasped in his hand. I watched as he prepared the IV tubing before he sat down on the edge of my bed and huffed, "Give me your arm."

"Why can't MM do it?" I sulked.

"Because I'm doin' it," he replied in a matter-of-fact manner.

I grumbled under my breath, clearly displeased. As I reluctantly drew my arm from under the blanket's coverage, Butcher looked at me with a bushy brow raised. "What? You don't think I'm a suitable nurse?"

"Well, your bedside manners leave much to be desired."

"That's funny. All my other patients think I'm perfectly charmin', especially the older ladies. I didn't know I appealed to nans so much," he snickered, running a calloused finger over my arm, searching for an appropriate vein.

"I'm surprised you appeal to anyone."

"I guess ya' should be questionin' your own taste then, eh?"

"Believe me, I am."

Butcher didn't reply as he wrapped a small piece of fabric around my bicep, creating a makeshift tourniquet.

"Don't look, ok, doll?" he instructed, swiping a cotton ball covered in rubbing alcohol over my arm. My nose wrinkled at the strong smell, and I coughed.

"I don't need an IV," I said, trying to negotiate at the last minute. "I'll drink lots of water. Even that gross electrolyte shit MM buys."

"I don't think that's gonna to cut it, sweetheart," he stated, sliding the needle inside of the small catheter.

I bit my lip, trying to resign myself to my fate but failing miserably.

"M'not gonna hurt ya', ok? Just look at the ceilin' so you don't maul me to death."

"It's not like you wouldn't deserve it."

Butcher closed his eyes as I began to tread on his nerves. "Princess, you outta think before you speak that way to someone who's holdin' a very sharp object inches from you, yeah?"

"But you won't hurt me. You just said so yourself."

"Doesn't mean I'm not tempted."

I rolled my eyes and held my breath as I followed Butcher's wishes and looked at the ceiling. I winced slightly when I felt the needle initially enter my arm, but Butcher gently ran his free hand over my shoulder, distracting me.

"Atta girl," he breathed. "You're doin' so good."

My body trembled as I floated down from my last orgasm. I was vaguely aware of Butcher as he pulled me to lay on his chest, both of us panting.

"Y'alright, sweetheart?"

I could barely reply as my eyelids fluttered open and closed. My mind was full of various thoughts, but none of them made sense as my head floated somewhere above the rest of my body.

"Look at me, doll," Butcher said, running a hand through my hair. "Lemme see them pretty eyes."

I mustered all of my strength to peel my eyes open as I looked up at Billy with a lazy smile on my face.

"There she is. Atta girl," Butcher whispered. "You did so good for me."

Even in my delirious state, I keened under his praise, and Butcher chuckled at my reaction.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured as I nuzzled into his neck, nodding off in the arms of someone I loved.

Yes, I loved Billy Butcher.

He just didn't know it yet.

I held my breath as I forced myself to count the questionable yellow spots on the ceiling and not get lost in yet another memory of Butcher pretending to cherish me. I had just reached the twelfth discolored splotch when Butcher sat back and said, "All done, love."

I looked down at my arm and furrowed my brows in confusion when I saw the catheter fully inserted with some tape to keep it in place. Aside from the initial insertion, I hadn't felt the rest of the procedure.

"Told ya' it wouldn't hurt," Butcher said proudly, crossing his arms over his broad chest, reading my thoughts, which were clearly displayed on my face.

"I guess you're not the worst nurse in the world," I relented.

Butcher's mouth curled up at the side, and I knew my meager compliment had inflated his already oversized ego.

"Well, ain't that sweet of you to say. But don't tell MM, alright? He prides himself on his medical skills."

Butcher delicately adjusted my blanket, pulling it tighter and tucking me in for the night. "Now you have a little lie-down, love. And dontcha let those manky bedbugs bite."

"Are you going to read me a bedtime story while you're at it?" I inquired.

"The only stories I like to tell aren't appropriate for bedtime," Butcher whispered, winking at me.

He headed for the open doorway before turning around at the last second. "Oh, and if ya' need help countin' sheep, just give me a shout. I'll be on the other side of the wall."

I nodded before curling up on my side, trying not to tug too hard on my IV as the door creaked shut, signaling that I was alone. The light from the living room drifted under the doorway, providing a makeshift nightlight and illuminating the small, dingy room.

Sleep came surprisingly soon, and I drifted off, dreaming of Billy's heartbeat under my ear as he held me in his arms.

༺༻

It felt like only minutes later when I woke up due to the sensation of someone's hands on my stomach, and I flinched as my eyes flew open.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," MM apologized. "I was just checking your stitches," he explained as he pulled the bandage back over my abdomen and quickly did the same with my shirt and blanket.

"How does it look?" I asked hesitantly as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"So far, it's holding. But it wasn't my best work with Frenchie going ninety miles an hour and you...evading my help," he sighed.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled sheepishly.

"Hey, don't worry about it, kid. We all have something we're scared of. If I were being held down against my will while someone coughed in my face, I'd have done everything I could to knock their fucking teeth out."

My smile was small as I nodded in gratitude. "What time is it?" I inquired, wondering what day it was as well.

"Noon."

"Noon?" My eyes grew wide as I ran a hand through my matted hair. "Fuck, I must've slept for almost nine hours." Which was rare. These days, I was lucky if I slept for two hours consecutively with the anxiety that ran through my veins and the threats that loomed over our heads.

"Ten, actually. I told you your body needed rest."

I was preparing a comeback when my stomach grumbled loudly, interrupting the conversation.

MM rose to his feet. "By the sound of it, it seems you might want some breakfast. Frenchie made you a get-well gift in the form of French toast. Are you interested?" he asked, and my ears perked up at the offer.

"Sounds really good, actually."

He nodded, patting my shoulder. "Ok. Butcher will be in to help you up."

I groaned loudly, and MM couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, kid, but Butcher made us all swear not to touch you. I was only granted special permission on the basis that it was purely medical so I could check your stitches."

"He's being ridiculous," I scowled.

MM regarded me knowingly. "I think I'd probably call it something else."

I rolled my eyes, and MM laughed again as he exited my room, leaving the door open.

I barely had time to prepare myself for Butcher's imposing presence when he glided through the uninhibited doorway with a cheery greeting on his tongue.

"Rise and shine, my love. How are we feelin' this mornin?" His accent was especially thick as he wasted no time in raking my blanket back.

I yanked the fuzzy material back over myself, glaring up at the Brit, but he just retaliated by gripping the blanket in one of his paw-like hands and tossing it across the small room.

I eyed the pile of fabric I was unable to retrieve due to my current injury and whined, "Don't leave it on the floor. I just washed it." But I was soon distracted by the chair that sat in the corner facing my bed. I didn't remember seeing that yesterday.

"Who's chair is that?" I asked, pivoting the conversation.

"Mine," Butcher replied as he carefully pulled my IV out and wheeled the IV stand out of the way. "You'll have to forgive me for bringin' my chair in, but I haven't figured out how to sleep standin' up yet."

"You slept in here last night?"

"Well, I don't have bloody x-ray vision, so how else was I s'pposed to keep an eye on you, eh?"

"Did it ever occur to you that not checking on me at all was a viable option?"

"Not in my book," he responded sharply before changing the subject. "Now, let's getcha up. According to MM, you're fancyin' some of Frenchie's cookin'."

Butcher slid an arm under my lower back and slowly pulled me into a sitting position.

"Easy does it, love," he said as I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed through the discomfort. "You got it."

I swung my legs over the side of the bed so my feet rested on the floor, and I braced my palms on my thighs, trying to steady myself.

"Take your time, ok? I don't need ya' rippin' your stitches under my watch," he advised as he laced our hands together and pulled until I was standing on my own two feet. My vision blacked out for a second as the blood rushed from my head down to the rest of my body, and I teetered forward, falling into Butcher's muscular chest.

"I've got ya' sweetheart," he assured me as he held my unstable frame against him.

I pulled back when my vision returned, and I looked up into Butcher's attentive face. "I'm dizzy," I mumbled.

"S'ok. MM said that's normal," he assured me softly, tucking my tangled hair behind my ear.

I wanted to chastise myself for enjoying Butcher's tenderness, but I simply didn't have the energy as I nodded, trying to turn toward the door.

"Do ya' think you can walk?" he asked, resting a protective hand on my back. I'm more than happy to carry you."

"I don't need a chauffeur. I'm perfectly capable of walking," I said, stumbling forward a few steps. I was determined to do something on my own after being coddled for the past twenty-four hours.

Butcher didn't reply, but he didn't remove his hand either in the event that I should fall again. That only increased the pressure I felt to walk faster and show him I was strong enough to move about without any help.

I finally made it out into the open area of the basement and was greeted by everyone. Hughie, Kimiko, and MM wore encouraging smiles as Frenchie placed a tall plate of French toast topped with whipped cream on the coffee table.

"Pour toi, Mademoiselles," Frenchie announced, and I thanked him profusely.

Under Butcher's watchful eye, I eased myself down on the couch, and he quickly followed suit. He placed a supportive arm around my shoulders, and I would've made a snarky comment about him being clingy, but his arm was the only thing keeping me upright at the moment, so I kept my mouth shut.  

Butcher placed my breakfast in my lap and whispered in my ear, "Do ya' need me to cut it for you, princess?"

I used all my energy to elbow him in his side, and he breathed out a laugh before addressing the room. "Alright you twats. Let's have a little chin wag about tonight."

My head shot up in confusion as I chewed the first bite of my French toast. The wonderful medley of sugar and cinnamon coated my tongue. However, I couldn't focus on Frenchie's superb culinary skills when the group began discussing a mission to which I was not privy.

"Ok, so after a little bit of trouble due to a very annoying firewall, I was able to hack their systems, and I found a blueprint of the building, so we'll be able to locate her office quicker than just going in blindly," Hughie said, squatting next to the coffee table and spreading out the blueprint that he had just spoken of.

"Who's office?" I interrupted.

Hughie looked confusedly at Butcher, who had remained silent beside me. "You didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what?" I asked skeptically, turning my head to look at Butcher, and he sighed.

"We're breakin' into Raynor's office to have a look around before the CIA cleans it out. Word on the street is that they're doin' it tomorrow, so we've gotta go tonight."

"And you decided this without me?" I asked incredulously.

"You were knocked out, love. Was I s'pposed to wake ya' up in the middle of the night? You're always moaning about how ya' need your beauty sleep."

"Well, that wouldn't have been difficult considering you were two feet away watching me like a fucking peeping tom," I snapped before glaring at the rest of the room. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Butcher said sternly. "You aren't goin' anywhere."

"Yes, I am," I pressed.

I felt Butcher's fingers tighten around my shoulder. "Let's talk about this later, yeah?" he suggested.

"Talk about what later? The mission that I was unaware of or the fact that you won't fucking leave me alone?"

I should've seen it coming, but I was still thrown off when Butcher suddenly stood from the sofa, leaving me to crumple against it without his support. He then stomped to the other side of the basement, only stopping when he reached the corner and sneered at me. "Is this better?"

"Expanetuily," I bit back, clutching my abdomen as it tensed up under the new strain as I stood as well, not finished with what I had to say on the matter. I thought I was holding up well until MM swore, rushing to my side and forcing me to sit back down.

Bemewsed by his behavior, I tried to question him, but when he pulled up my shirt, I saw blood seeping through the gauze, and my heart plummeted.

I had ripped my stitches.

"Hughie, go into my room. On my desk, you will find some supplies. Bring them to me," MM instructed as he made quick work of pulling back the now-damp gauze.

"Fuck, it's worse than what I thought," he sighed. "Nice going, Butcher," he said, throwing a dirty look over his shoulder at his boss, who had remained standing in the corner.

The dig forced Butcher into action as he footed it over to us. "Fuck you. Clearly, I didn't do it on bloody purpose."

"Just get out," MM barked as he accepted the supplies from Hughie.

"No, I'm stayin'," Butcher argued obstinantely.

MM pinched the bridge of his nose. "Butcher, Jo is clearly upset by you being here. So stop being a stubborn motherfucker and get the fuck out."

Butcher's gaze fell on me as lines formed between his thick brows in concern. I knew he was waiting for me to beg him to stay, but I wouldn't do it. His comfort was something I craved like a drug, and it was about time I got clean. Plus, I couldn't deny the sick urge I had to hurt him, to push him away like he did to me when he left for three months.

"Fine," Butcher uttered slowly when I remained silent, "I'll let you other cunts dry this one's tears when she's fuckin' beside herself over a goddamn needle and a little bit of blood."

He pivoted around and swept up the stairs. Seconds later, the old building shook as Butcher forcefully slammed the door.

It was quiet after Butcher's dramatic exit, and MM shook his head, running a needle through a lighter. The deja vu I felt was painfully prominent.

"You ready to try this again, kid?"

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

tag list: @weallhaveadestiny

@im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere

@mandossillyriduur

comment to be added to the list!🖤

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[luckycapybara]

Hetalia USUK Feels

Hetalia for all its problematic portrayals esp towards South Korea and Eurocentric focus, is still very entertaining to watch and rewatch. I’ve been a fan since 2014, over a decade ago. Rewatching it again for the new year made me feel so nostalgic and it’s such a fun way to start the new year.

Rewatching it made me think about how I felt about USUK too. I remember when I first watched it, I was leaning towards FrUk, thinking oh, these two are the enemies to lovers trope. Though I didn't really care about any ships outside of AusHun and GerIta. For the first four seasons of Hetalia, I did not consider a romantic relationship between America and England. It wasn't until season 5 that I began to question the relationship between them. America prank calls England, and they have annual Halloween scares, and America is always trying to rile England up? That made me rewatch the previous seasons trying to understand their interactions and begin reading the manga. The manga made it 100x worse for me and my shipper brain. And then it was just been downhill from there, I'm now still a hardcore USUK shipper.

There's a certain longing between them that gets brought up here and there, masked under banter and competition. And America is always trying to get England's attention, and only exclusively from England. He visits other countries and forms relationships with them but his interactions with England alone seemed to be special because he seemed to be always seeking him out. He prank calls England every new year, has annual scare competitions with him on Halloween, and he seeks him out to dress up with him as Batman and Robin for Halloween and Himaruya specifically points out that their costumes are from different versions Batman and Robin, with the Robin that America chose for England being one that didn't have pants. America is not known for teasing any other country, and certainly not the kind to try to get other people to show skin, and this attention is reserved only for England. My question for Hima is why? Why develop America's relationship with England in this way? I can't see it as siblings or parents, there's no hecking way you would choose a costume specifically to show off skin for a family member and then tell them to show off their legs??? Maybe if they were sisters and if America was trying to find a bf for England but I don't get that sense at all.

Their feelings for each other are very complex and layered, and America definitely holds grudges against England as stated by Hima. But even so, he can't help but want England's attention, and doesn't seek it out like parental or sibling attention. He loves teasing him and I think his physical attraction to England was hinted at during the Hetaween event. And there was also that panel from the BSV strip showing that America wanted chocolate specifically from England. America has other friends, why doesn't he want chocolates from them? So I think that America probably has a crush on England, buried underneath all his other complex emotions towards him from both his toddler and colonial times. And I think America is indeed aware of his own romantic feelings but chooses to swallow them because he's still not over the Revolutionary War and he's still navigating how to interact positively with England post war. It's hard to say when those feelings for England developed but I headcanon that he's had them since his teenage colonial days but modern America is good at compartmentalizing his emotions so I imagine he must have been that way then too. For the sake of his people, he cannot let his feelings for England get in the way.

After the war, America is shown to have insomnia and wanted to see England after hearing he became sick. It absolutely haunts him how broken the relationship between them has become and how it affected England. England is also canonically heartbroken for over 100 years and although it's never revealed who, it's obvious who. England gets sick every year on America's birthday. I think America knows how fragile England is emotionally and how heavy his emotions are. So he avoids having to bring out those heavy emotions as much as he can now, by covering up his own.

As for England, I theorize that his feelings for America are a little less complicated. I don't think he necessarily has a crush on America, as he's shown to dream about little America from the time he treated him as his brother in WW2. He's a tsundere and he does love America and he longs for him but I don't think it's necessarily romantic. It's reminiscent of the love Yoojin has for Yoohyun in The S-Classes That I Raised, although those two are actually blood related brothers. But the point is, Yoojin's been very heartbroken because of Yoohyun before and to him, his brother is the most important person. That's how I see England's love towards America, although I think it is changing because England is starting to see America as more than his ex-brother because it's also hard for him to reconcile America's treatment of him as purely brotherly. Plus they're not real brothers.

I think it's hinted at that America has a crush on England. And it's delicious to see. Hima is surprisingly good at writing romance. He loves to incorporate angst and underlying romantic tension between characters and making readers wonder, will they/won't they? He hesitates to confirm anything but leaves out of place hints for couples that strongly imply romantic attraction that makes you wonder how deep these feelings run for the characters. He does this for GerIta, he does this for SuFin, he does this for AusHun, and he does this for USUK.

Happy New Year everyone!

[catalina-infanta]

On Free Will in C.S. Pacat’s Dark Rise Series

James Has Free Will With The Collar

Recently I wrote an essay (https://www.tumblr.com/catalina-infanta/748214922159194112/the-question-of-the-collar-the-dark-rise-trilogy?source=share) on how I believed that the Collar was a consensual object between Anharion and Sarcean. I still believe that. I will further argue now that although I think the collar gets Anharion/James to obey direct orders, I also believe the collar is something that allows free will to its wearer and is not forcing him (compelling him) to do anything he does not agree to do, and that he ultimately has free will. This essay is an addendum to my last, so I suggest if you have not read it, you may want to read it first to understand the bulk of the reasoning for this argument of mine, but it is not necessary.

First, I will draw attention to the below scene (in the chapter where the collar is put on James by Sinclair):

Here, the two sentences say:

“He felt no compulsion.”

Period.

“He felt nothing at all.”

Period.

The way this is written is short and sweet for a reason, in my opinion. The sentence is simply “he felt nothing at all” not “he felt nothing at all when Sinclair ordered him…” This feels like a deceptive trick of writing to me. It is stated in a way to hide information in plain site; we are meant to think he is only not compelled here because Sinclair was the one ordering him around. But he says here that he feels no compulsion. Nothing at all. These are the ways writers trick us until they give us the final reveal and we are meant to look back and it all makes sense.

Another clue is in the below scene. We see James is not an automaton who repeats back Will's wishes (like his people branded with those “S”/snake tattoos must do – I have seen others mention a theory that they are snakes, not “s” tattoos). Instead, James’s personality is fully his own at the end of the chapter when he rescues Will. He willingly calls Will “darling”, therefore giving a personal twist to his phrasing without anyone telling him to do so (and he is not a mind reader for reasons I will explore below)

and then, James takes initiative to blast them out of the mountain (showing us he can choose the method of escape, Will doesn’t direct him how to do it).

Furthermore, below, James says he will rule with Will, by his side. He has agency. You can’t rule if you have no autonomy. If you can't decide anything you are not a ruler, you are simply ruled.

Why Was James Acting So Weird? Is He Brain Washed?

James was acting weird in the last chapter. What’s more, James’s mannerisms are different, yes, even different from the chapter preceding it where James rescues Will (calling Will “darling”, acts sassy with the others, etc). So, the final chapter could have been done by Pacat to show that James is brainwashed, but I highly doubt this. Instead, I think it is done to show 1) James isn’t acting weird because he has no agency, but because he believes Will remembers everything too, and 2) He is written strangely to obfuscate the truth. We cannot know too much about James’s condition right now as that is a giveaway, so Pacat chooses to hide it and instead has us focus on the turmoil inside Will in the final chapter and on his interpretation of James’s behavior.

[One clue someone brought to my attention that shows James may think Will already remembers everything is the scene when Will says “both of you” to Visansder and James; James knows what he is talking about (the memory where Sarcean said the same thing to Anharion and the Queen when he was arrested) and probably infers that Will remembers everything as well. He doesn’t know that Will only remembers a few small snippets. What’s more, perhaps James is calling Will “His King” and “Sarcean” because he simply remembers everything now and so Will and the Dark King have both become interchangeable in his mind. Will is now “his King”--perhaps he even believes Will expects to be called as such]

Unfortunately, we have very little description of what he was feeling, or even of his facial expressions in the last chapter; James’s actions often appeared mechanic. Very importantly, however, the five times he is described by Will in the chapter, he is described as “achingly genuine” with “blue eyes full of loyalty” and “as eager as Will” and feeling “warm and real against him [Will]” and, finally, saying something “with confidence”.

Sadly, all of these lovely things Will noticed are (in the same chapter/moments) doubted by Will, leading the reader to doubt too. However, Will’s filter is often unreliable as his thoughts are often just his opinion and/or the full extent of his real memories are concealed from us.

The thing is, if James has just gotten access to all his memories, maybe what Will perceives to be genuine is really actually genuine! We kind of know it is from James's point of view given what we read after the collar is placed on him; James's description of his experience wearing the collar seemed to invigorate him. I fully expect that after Book 3 we will be able to look back on these moments in book 2 and everything will make sense.

To that idea, I find it hard to believe that Pacat would call this unbearably erotic (above) if we weren’t meant one day to come back and read this as a situation that is…kind of romantic? Sexy? But NOT lacking in consent or love or taking place with a brain washed partner.

No, James imo has not suddenly become a brainwashed Anharion. He refers to him as Will in the below pic, so he knows he is with Will in the present moment as much as with Sarcean:

To my final point, more importantly, James BELIEVES that Will remembers too! That’s why his responses are so weird to us and to Will. He now knows Will was lying about who he was, so he must assume Will knows too and still is aiming for the same goals as the Dark King.

Hence why he thinks (above) that ruling over the world was what Will wants to accomplish, but it is NOT what the present Sarcean/Will wants (not yet, at least). Notice also that James’s answer to Will asking if he was telling him what he wants to hear (in the above scene) was evasive; perhaps another tool Pacat has possibly employed to make us THINK James is talking about one thing when maybe what he is really saying “yes” to is something else entirely?

Finally, I would like to draw your attention to this final question I have:

This scene where James was asking, “what’s wrong?” always confused me until I realized James thinks Will is on the same page. If James believes Will remembers everything (which I firmly believe based on how he acts in the final chapters) then this question “what’s wrong?” makes sense if he believes Will knows the methods of the collar.

It makes sense because when Will has a virtual panic attack upon seeing the collar on James, James doesn’t immediately try to explain to him the history of the collar to make him feel better (because he thinks Will knows it’s history). So, in the above, James has no idea why Will is so upset.

I wonder if at this point in time here, however, if James remembers and is questioning why Will discouraged the use of the collar and wanted to destroy it?

Perhaps it is as simple as James believing that this incarnation of Sarcean wants him to follow him (Will) first and foremost because he wants to? This is what Will said in the Throne Room. Perhaps James is thinking now it is done, why cry over spilt milk? It’s not the end of the world, after all. Or maybe James hasn’t thought yet about how Will hadn’t wanted him collared and is just too excited to learn the truth (thanks @tackletofset for this idea). Upon thinking further, it is also possible that James doesn’t have to wonder why Will didn’t want the collar if maybe Anharion was always the driving force between the two towards the collar, and Sarcean more hesitant? Or perhaps it was something else altogether? I mention all of this because if my theory is true, it will spill over into book 3 as they try to figure out each other’s feelings in the first half of the book.

Conclusion

Finally, as we see at the end when James reveals he remembers all in the end scene of the book (pic above), we don’t get to see the rest of the conversation: we don’t get to see them talk about what they both remember. That’s for the next book! And I can’t say I have any idea when they will both be on the same page. Hopefully soon enough!

In James saying “You are him”, it’s comforting to see that James believes Will (the loving and loyal person he is) and Sarcean are essentially the same. That Sarcean isn’t the demon the Light side made him to be, that he is worthy to be held in esteem. This bodes well that the Dark King is no cruel man, as Will is not cruel either. James is telling us something about Sarcean’s character here, and I believe him.

[fanficonly]

Wenclair X Reader - What Are You?- Part 4

Finally!!! I've finally written something!Cannot explain how my brain has not been cooperating with me writing lately.I guess this is kind of a filler chapter to keep you guessing so for now enjoy the Wenclair.

But here we are part 4 we made it hope y'all enjoy reading😋

"God! What is she?! Who was that?! This is insane there is virtually no information about this girl anywhere! Like what is she? An alien!" The voice rang throughout the large dorm room on what felt like a continuous loop to the Addams Girl.

Wednesday and Enid had been delving into the limited information about Y/N for almost an hour now and Enid was getting more and more frustrated by the second.

"Enid Dear Calm Down" Wednesday spoke lightly still staring at thier virtually blank notice board, showing her own irritation in a much more serene way.

"Do not tell me to calm down Wednesday! This girl is worse than you! Atleast your family were known and the people from your old school tweeted about the horrors you got up to" she huffs, finally putting her pacing to a stop and placing her hands on her hips to stare at Wednesday's side profile.

"You're stalking abilities are incredible Mon Amore" Wednesday admired, flicking her eyes towards the blonde for a moment of appreciation "I'm still incredibly flattered that you took so much interest in me the first day we met" She spoke trailing her eyes back to the 3 pieces of paper on the board.

"I know baby it's one of my best talents" she smiles half heartedly still a little annoyed that they hadn't progressed in thier investigation. "Soooo what do we have?" She asks, noticing that Wednesday's eyes were still fixated on their murder board, secretly hoping she had noticed something she herself had not

"Enid you have asked me this 5 times in the last 20 minutes the answer still remains the same" Wednesday replies bluntly.

"I don't accept 'Nothing' as an answer Wens, it's literally impossible not to have a digital footprint in this day and age!" She resumes her yelling and Wednesday shakes her head lightly. She strains her eyes on the board as if staring at it long enough would cause it to spontaneously change into something of importance. But after a few seconds ...still nothing

"So you have stated the last 5 times I've answered you but there is nothing more we can do with-" Wednesday rests her eyes, finally looking away from thier poor attempt at investigating and back to Enid. This was almost embarrassing for the usually successful couple.

"Nothing more we can do?!" She practically screeches, cutting her off "Where's the Wednesday Addams I know! Where is my favourite ruthless little detective!" She grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her girlfriend frantically, worried she was broken or something.

"You did not let me finish Enid" she purses her lips, placing both her hands onto Enid's wrists to settle her. "Also... I will allow the referring to me as 'little' slide because I am aware you extremely distressed right now but don't let it happen again otherwise I will not be responsible for my actions" she throws the empty threat at her girlfriend who settles and smirks in response.

"Ooo I love it when you threaten me with a good time" Enid gives her a flirty wink. Wednesday is unable to hide the affect this has on her, biting the inside of her cheeks to subdue the smile that forced its way onto her face.

"You are so violently adorable and crude Cucciola" she slides her hands up to caress her cheeks and pulls her closer lightly. She leans in agonisingly slow, causing Enid to freeze where she stood still hopelessly submissive to Wednesday's charms. Her breath catches as she feels the first inkling of thier lips connecting and then...

"But we need to focus Cara Mia" she whispers against Enid's awaiting lips, denying her the connection she shamelessly yearned for.

As she began to turn away and remove herself in order to get back to work, she stopped. This action had earned Wednesday a whine from the blonde, who's claws had retracted after such an intense rush of emotions had befallen the wolf.

"Hmm" Wednesday teased but could barely finish the amused sound before Enid grabbed her quickly to finish what the other girl had started. The Darker Haired girl allows her a peck but Enid's grip only tightened. So then a lingering kiss was granted, only a few seconds long, but she didn't shy away from pulling her in for one swift and passionate kiss and pulling away. Enid loosened her grip a satisfied smile appearing across her once captivated lips.

"Okay okay ... Finish" she removed her hands from Wednesdays shoulders then waited patiently for her to continue.

"Enid, where would you go for information you are unable to obtain from the general public" she chose to take a page from the philosopher Socrates. She didn't usually subscribe to the idea that all beings however intellectual contain more knowledge than they are aware of. And with the right amount of questioning and motivation the answers can be dragged from even the dumbest of brains, not that Enid was in this category at all. But she did enjoy experimentation with the idea

"Uhhhh" Enid looked up, thinking

"A place with privileged information" she urged again. Enid just responded with a furrowed brow and bit her lip. "Information that cannot be found in any public library or on the internet and where all beings natural and supernatural are written abo-"

"Oh my god the Nightshades library!" She beamed "Of course Let's go!" She urged, promptly grabbing her Girlfriend's hand and running for the door

...

Upon reaching the library both girls got to work spending an alarming amount of time combing through various books on different creatures,the history of Nevermore, founding families and basically scanning through all books that mentioned anything close to what they had experienced.

"Oh OH! What was her last name? Could this be her descendant!" Enid excitedly proclaimed, pointing to a picture on the tattered page of an old brown book she had been reading. Wednesday swiftly made her way to Enid's side and looked at the page.

"Enid" Wednesday had to fight the urge to face palm at her beautifully foolish other half. "That looks nothing like her and it says the woman in the photo is a scales" Wednesday pointed to the small writing explaining the photo beneath it. Enid just squinted at the page "I don't think we were told her last name... That's troubling I'm usually more perceptive than this" Wednesday suddenly thought aloud.

"You were probably too busy being impressed by her to pay attention to detail" Enid mumbled scanning the page again.

"That's not..." Wednesday's word trailed off "Am I detecting Jealousy?" a glint of something devious could easily be seen in Wednesday's usually cold, dead eyes.

"No of course not" she gave her a "pfft" for good measure and shrugged

"Because if my memory is accurate YOU seemed rather impressed by her, you even giggled like a little school girl whenever she made a joke" Wednesday spoke a matter of factly.

"Of course I was impressed by her she reminded me a little of you" Enid smiled remembering thier first encounter fondly.

"You are not serious?" Wednesday was lightly offended. Not from being told she was like Y/N but because she was one of a kind. Not a soul like Wednesday Addams herself and she knew this, regardless of whether she cared or not.

"I'm very serious" her mouth said this but the wink that followed showed Wednesday that her girlfriend wasn't threatened or jealous but just more playful with the idea of liking somebody else.

"For one she smiles, secondly she-she hurt you I would never and- and- " Wednesday grew quiet, stuttering threw her off, she wasn't used to not being sure of how to respond. Normally she was able to assemble an obscene list of things that were wrong with any individual within minutes of meeting them. So why now was she struggling to find anything wrong with the new stranger that had entered thier lives without permission.

"HA I knew it!" Enid accused "Wednesday Addams. Has your distaste for almost every person on the planet finally started to dissolve" she wiggled her eyebrows.

"I assure you my distaste for the human race has not faltered or deteriorated in any way" Wednesday rebutted.

'Mmhmm sure Babe keep telling yourself that" Enid closed the book and threw it onto a side table, amused by her Girlfriend

"Can we please focus on the task at hand Mi amore" the shorter girl asked but it felt more like an order.

"Sorry should I stop talking about how she's really pretty and talented at a lot of things and speaks a second language aaaaannd she's a hella mysterious" she teased Wednesday "I mean look at us" she gestured between them both "We've been looking into her for ages and found Squat!" Enid was finally finding an up side to thier little adventure, this was kind of fun to play around with.

"Fine. I admit she does interest me but I could never devote myself to another the way I do with you Cara Mia, you are my Soulmate" Wednesday spoke as if she had just told Enid something mundane. She seemed painfully oblivious to her own ability to sound like a devoted poet whenever gushing over Enid.

Enid smiled widely before saying "You can have more than one soulmate by the way" casually.

"Enid we have known this girl for all of 5 seconds and you're already considering polyamory as your next path, maybe I should be jealous" Wednesday blinked and looked at her Girlfriend quizzically

"Not if you're also considering it" she giggled and Wednesday gave her a small smile. She didn't know what she was feeling. In fact so much had happened in such a short amount of time it felt reckless to suggest anything before gathering more information and allowing herself time to actually think about this

"It's not uncommon among my family so it wouldn't completely surprise me" Wednesday decided but nonetheless she still grasped Enid's chin delicately and spoke again "But right now you are my one and only Cara Mia" kissing her slowly then parted from her lips to continue searching.

Enid blinked a few times, feeling rather dazed due to being blindsided by her Girlfriend's intoxicating aura. Once regaining composure , she smiled again and skipped towards Wednesday to hug her from behind and continue to help with the search.

...

Eventually both girls became tired and agreed after still getting nowhere they would retreat to eat as Enid was becoming rather groggy and irritable. She hadn't been fed since this morning and with all this drama she had worked up quite the appetite. So off they travelled in search of food and the comfort of thier shared room.

[lunarleonardo]

Hiiii lunarr hope ur day has been well

I'm not sure if this has been asked before but I was wondering if there are any ao3 fics that you'd recommend to your readers? Or just any of ur favourites you'd like to share loll any fandom is cool too doesn't have to be danganronpa

Thanks!!!!!

Hii! ♪ヽ(´▽｀)/ I hope your day has been going well too!

There are a few fics I absolutely adore, but... a lot of them aren't Danganronpa fics :( I think that's mostly since a lot of them just haven't really caught my eye, hence the nonsense I put so much effort into writing, but I can share the ones I have read and enjoyed! :D

COMPLETE FICS

Okay so the first one here isn't necessarily a single fic. rather, it's a series! Child Actor Shuichi by TheBrightSilverLining ^_^ I adopted the aroace Rantaro headcanon from this lol. It covers some darker themes mainly related to child abuse so do proceed with caution!! But it is hurt/comfort, non-despair, its primary ship is Saiouma, and also Kaede almost blows up the kitchen so that's always a win in my books :) i also dont know if this is actually complete or not but it hasnt been updated since 2022 so..

Second one! I stayed up until 6am to finish reading this and it was 100% worth it I lost my near damn mind. Ultimates by SeashellCosmos. Now I haven't gotten around to reading the other two installments in the series, which I have been...meaning to do..... This is a DR1 centered fic where everyone has superpowers! :D I actually had a bit of a similar idea with DRV3 prior to reading this, so I was ECSTATIC to find this absolute GEM!! Other people as insane as I am!!! (*^▽^)/★*☆♪

Fantasy/Dragon AU. Wings and Scales by DraconicSparkle. i really really really really really really like dragons O_O I've been wanting to write a dragonfic for myself.... goodness I need to reread this fic. But from what I do remember, I was constantly going :O irl and I recall loving the dynamic of Kaito, Maki and Shuichi in this, even if they werent the main focus ^^

This one isn't a DR fic. Instead, it's a My Hero Academia one! When Realities Collide by LowlyWriter :3 I cannot even BEGIN to tell you how many times I've reread this one ゜゜(´O｀)°゜The first ever fic I read on ao3 was one about the same character from different realities meeting so this was so so awesome to read and hdbekdksjekfje AAGWHHH!!!! AAGGHUQI

INCOMPLETE FICS :(

the first one here is one that altered my brain chemistry and i have never been normal since the day I clicked on this. Hoarding Humans by Mycorrhizae. it only has 3 chapters. Saiouma, fantasy au. Kokichi is a dragon and that is SO fucking sick?? I love dragons?? It is a fairly lighthearted and easy to reread. The author did state it was "mostly a crack fic" :p so take that how you will lol

Post-game SDR2 Nagito-centered fic, wearing your heart on the tip of your tongue by PurePun. I've reread this a few times now because it has such a nice mix of typical danganronpa insanity and it's just. So funny sometimes. I wish it was socially acceptable to do what Nagito does in this fic it would cut all of the misunderstandings in my life down to 5%. It's also just really nice to see Nagito get along with everyone more or less xD

I can also take this opportunity to say ... I do have other fics planned. I have this one in mind that'll, for once, include the ENTIRE drv3 cast for the whole thing, so that'll be fun! :D I also really want to write a Saimatsu fic, but i've been very saiouma brained and I'm currently focused on HGH. saimatsu mansion will be real someday... maybe. there are other ideas rattling around in my brain but we'd be here forever if i tried to explain it and thats not what this post is about

those are the first ones that came to mind and the safest for me to share because i'm not sure how ready you guys are for the deeper things in my library XD

okay my hand. hurts. so i need to let it rest so i can cook dinner xD Happy fic reading everybody!! If you have any fic recs please. don't be afraid to share. i am starving

[dcbbw]

WIP Update 5.27.24--Holiday Treats Edition

Hi-de-ho, tumblrs! It is Memorial Day Weekend here in the US, and I am spending the beginnings of the last day  of a 3-day weekend posting WIPs for the first time in what seems like forever!

And I have a lot of WIPs for you today; however, half of them DO NOT HAVE WORDS. I’ll make that up to you by posting extra-long snippets of the ones that do. It’s gonna be a mixed bag, with the majority of these stories being ideas I am unsure popped in my brain or shot themselves out of my ass.

If you have ever read at least one of my WIP updates, you know the drill: all works are in very rough draft and a state of flux; published/posted works may vary. No promises on when anything will be posted, but everything is in an extremely active state of progress.

Everything is below the cut; please enjoy!

Rating is M for Mature because it's me

9 Days a Queen: Based upon the painting The Execution of Lady Jane Grey, and a crapton  of historical dramas, this is the story of the brief yet impactful reign of Queen Riley Brooks of Cordonia.

Object of Affection, Chapter 9: Hard Day’s Night: The Mermaids are on the comeback trail!

Untitled KTAW fic: The suitor from House Theron takes a meeting with the Duke of Ramsford.

The Real Housewives of Cordonia: Lorelei and Hana: The RHOC will be a once-in-awhile series that will focus on a pivotal moment in the lives of the mother/mother-in-law and daughter/daughter-in-law of the ladies of my favorite gang. Except they’re in Cordonia, Connecticut. Once completed, this will be my #HLAW submission.

Dolos: This fic is inspired by my absolute LOVE of Homeland, a now-defunct Showtime series. The subject matter may be triggering to some, so reader discretion is advised. FYI, Dolos is the Greek God of deception, craftiness, and treachery:

“Except one player is notably absent. King Liam of Cordonia,” the host replied.

The visitor slowly lowered his fork. “You have power players such as the United States, Britain, Canada, France … Cordonia will hardly be missed.”

“You’re either stupid or think I am,” the host retorted with the slightest edge to his tone. “Cordonia is in the middle of this maelstrom and trying to play neutral. Which they cannot.”

“You’re still not explaining why I am here with you.”

“King Liam is half Auvernese, his bride is Hidaran. He will have to enter the fray, and when he does, he will be on the wrong side of history. There is a … faction that is willing to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

“Terrorist cells are forming a dime a dozen. It would seem to me that they would jump for joy at a wealthy country financing the winners.”

The host pushed away his plate, his eyes staring into mirrored lenses. “There are no winners here. It’s a complete suicide mission whoever enters the fray; the death of the Supreme One illustrates that. The fact is Cordonia will back the aggressors, regardless of how they spin it, and they have the money and resources to ensure both wars continue for years.”

The visitor lifted his teacup. “And?”

“While this is quite the distraction, other wheels are already in motion that need to be addressed now. In order for that to happen, funding must be cut and diverted. Already, the first-world countries are scaling back. There cannot be a fallback to take their place.”

The visitor sat his cup down, and leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “What are you saying?”

“King Liam must be assassinated; the faction is offering $50 million US dollars to make it happen. Do you want the job?”

This Little Life (Versions Edit): Leo Rhys has died, and his wife and lover finally have the confrontation they’ve waited 20 years for:

We’ve spent the last two decades as an unassuming family living a quiet life in the town of Rury, located in Duchy Krona.  When we were looking for a place to live, I argued returning to my home country of America, but Rury was my husband’s mother’s birth town and seemed the perfect place to escape life in the royal limelight without changing continents.

Yet another compromise I made in the name of our relationship.

Leo spent the first half of our marriage fulfilling his motocross passions and rebuilding with his love, all while using me as a depository for his seed when things went sideways with the one who held his heart. I was essentially a single mother who had hit the child support lottery. I suggested several times we divorce; those were our worst arguments.

When Asher was three, my husband agreed we needed to settle down and focus on raising our family.

We purchased a large farmhouse that sits on the banks of Kingsman River. He used his savings to buy a local farm and construction equipment company that serviced all of Krona and Valtoria to save it from being sold to developers. With his charisma and leadership skills, he was the boss everyone wanted to work for.

I’m Vice-President of Commercial Acquisitions for Cordonia Commerce, the nation’s largest financial institution, a position I was promoted to five years ago. 

We were both active in our community: volunteering at local food banks, and participants in the Krona school system: book drives, bake sales, pestering neighbors and co-workers when it came to fundraisers, coaching soccer and track & field.

There were family dinners and vacations, Sunday feasts, road trips, and pizza nights.

We have four children: twin girls Hope and Joy, who are 19; our son Luca, 15; and our youngest, Asher, who is 13. I love each of them a little harder, hug them a little tighter, and kiss their cheeks a little more often, much to their embarrassment. But I can’t help it; all of them were conceived in drunken indifference, my husband pouring his every misery into my waiting womb after arguments and rejections from another.

It's been a good life, filled with care, respect, and friendship. Honestly, Leo was my best friend. But there was no romantic love, no passion.

Because all we had built together as friends and co-parents, he was supposed to have with his lover, not with me.

I fasten my robe more tightly around my waist as I traipse downstairs; in the living room, reserved for company only, I push apart curtains and twist open venetian blinds. I frown at what passes for dusting in Luca’s world before moving on past the family room where we binge television shows and celebrate holidays.

I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

Finally, I am in the kitchen, the heart of our home. Arguments, homework, meals, birthday celebrations … they all happen here.  I brew a single cup of the coffee my husband loved; it’s a dark roast from Comery Isle with hints of praline and coconut, which I douse liberally with sugar and cream.

Breakfast will be simple: slices of fried ham; tomatoes, eggs, and yesterday’s rice; yogurt; fruit. I begin pulling dishes and pans from cabinets, food from the refrigerator; my body is rigid, my movements almost robotic. I silently count eggs as I place them in mixing bowl.

Routine, routine, routine.

But suddenly, I can no longer do anything, and I feel the bowl of eggs slip from my hands; I hear it crash against the hardwood flooring.

Grief for so many things overwhelm me, and I slide down a cream-colored wall to the floor, my eyes flooded with tears.

I’m not ready to say goodbye.

Stormholt: Based upon Saltburn. That is all:

My orgasm erupts from the engorged head of my dick like creamy lava from a pornographic volcano. Ropes of seed spurt into the air only to splash back against my member and increasingly sticky hand. My hips thrust against air one last time, and I feel my body shudder.

If you knew Jesus, you wouldn’t be doing that!

Riley’s voice in my mind pushes the last vestiges of the sexual fantasy that awoken me away; with still- closed eyes, I try to calm my labored breathing.

My eyes open, and I study the intricate canopy above my four-poster bed while I lay still. There’s nothing on my agenda this morning except be rich, look good, and suntan: breakfast, workout, pool.

This is the life of the Lord of Stormholt Manor.

The semen and lube are beginning to congeal on my hand, and the tip of my cock feels gummy resting against my thigh. I sit up and shift to the side of the bed; I frown at the sight of sunrise coming through closed, sheer, crimson-colored curtains.

It’s the color of fresh blood.

With the slightest twinge of guilt, I stand and push the drapes open with my clean hand before lighting a cigarette. I stare out the window, seeing my friends and lovers below.  There’s Riley and the baby; Maxwell; Constantine. Regina is in the great room; she enjoys the view of the south gardens from the windows there.

My eyes fall on HIM; anger still roils my stomach at what he did to me.

Betrayal.

I turn away from them; I may or may not stop by to say hello. I begin heading into the bathroom, not bothering with the bed sheets; Gladys will change them. The house is quiet, but that’s to be expected. It’s only 7am; the day officially begins at Stormholt in exactly one hour.

I make short order of my morning’s hygiene; my outfit today will be robe and swim shorts. I’m fastening the sash on robe as I make my way down an immense, window-lined hallway that is in serious need of dusting.

Doors are half-open to bedrooms that currently sit unoccupied. I give cursory glances inside them: beds neatly made, light coatings of dust on furniture, bloody light leaking through closed curtains. Photographs sit on night tables and dresser tops, faces frozen in time. Their eyes look into nothingness, and their lips smile into emptiness.

Tagging: @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @bebepac @angelasscribbles @charlotteg234

@tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @indiacater @lovingchoices14

@umccall71 @busywoman @beezm @mainstreetreader

@walkerdrakewalker @superharriet @choicesficwriterscreations

In case you're interested: @lizzybeth1986 @daily-haley

[sencubussubs]

Understanding Manifestation techniques <3

Something that really delayed my manifestations when i first started manifesting is that i did not understand manifestation like it really is, i knew that i was inherently capable of getting what i wanted and i knew techniques would help me get these things - of course i struggled with doubts but in this post i am simplifying it to this as i want to focus on properly understanding manifestation techniques.

So what’s wrong with the way i thought? I thought that manifestation techniques were the tool that manifested for me - rather than me being the conscious creator. Many newbies that come to Law of assumption are fed lots of techniques without fully grasping how law of assumption really works. So they think “okay, i did the technique so now it shows up” and wait around watching the 3D, whereas in reality the techniques work to help you embody the version of yourself who has their manifestation. techniques help you shift states.

Most techniques follow the idea of affirmation repetition and letting go. Think 3,6,9, 5x5x5, robotic affirmations - this is because the whole process is to help your subconscious fully embody the version of you that has whatever you are manifesting, hence the simple use of I am or I have statements. you repeat throughout the day to yourself that you are the person who has those things thereby rewiring your neural pathways (nerd emoji here fr). Letting go then prevents you from overthinking and denying these affirmations :)

A lot of different techniques follow this structure! Even scripting: you write a whole bunch as if you are experiencing your manifestation - each sentence repeating back to you that you already have it. Also Vision boards, they help familiarise your brain with seeing the different events/ objects/ places / people/ emotions whatever you are trying to manifest.

Techniques help you feel who you are when you have these manifestations, they help you affirm to yourself who you are. The 3D has no choice but to reflect back to you who you are.

Now i want to clarify that i fully understand why some Law of Assumption teachers leave it as simple as “this technique brings you your manifestation” - because if you are open enough to that, that can be something you fully accept and embody and in turn you can manifest that way. However, for many people who find law of assumption, there are already many neural pathways that state that something as simple as the 3,6,9 or 5x5x5method cannot get them what they want - their ‘logical’ side of the brain will shut down that idea and not allow that to happen, suggesting that if they wanted to manifest a porsche they need this and that…. you get it. I totally respect if this way of thinking about techniques works for you but, me personally, i have one main problem with it which is that i do not want to form the belief that techniques are the only way for me to manifest. Manifestation is a natural process and I do it all the time!

I hope this helped and don’t be afraid to ask any questions, i am looking forward to posting a lot more regarding manifestation to help and inspire all you baddies to get what you want <3