#EITHERWAY

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price worships Nik's body like he deserves, and treats him to a new experience.

cw: chest worship, rimming, anal sex, bottom Nikolai.

"You ready?"

"I am ready."

Price nodded and took one final glance around the room to ensure all assets were in position. Window open for the breeze, candles secure, lube in place on the bedside table, towels on hand, water with ice in a pint glass. Everything was thoroughly prepared. Right, he was ready to deploy.

Price scratched the back of his neck, glancing up through his eyebrows at the slab of top tier Russian beef currently awaiting him in the middle of the bed. It had been a hard week, Nik was exhausted, but two days into their leave, with the rest of the world shut out, Nik was finally in the right frame of mind for intimacy. Price had to get this bloody right.

And there he lounged, all dark hair, thick muscle and cocky smile. Fucking beautiful.

It had always struck Price how confident Nik was naked. He swaggered around their flat with his massive dick out, hard or soft, and had once almost answered the door in the buff. Would have given Beryl from Number 4 a bloody heart attack as she clutched their Amazon parcel full of creatine.

In all fairness, Price thought as he studied his lover on the bed, he would probably walk around naked too if he looked that bloody good. Nik had one arm tucked behind his head, a knee hitched up the bed, his prick sitting semi-hard in the curve of his hip as he studied Price with those big, inquisitive eyes.

In that one gay werewolf romance novel Price had found in Soap's quarters, the author had talked about hard lines and angles, but outside the sharp edge of his jaw and defined chin, Nik was all firm curves that made Price want to sink his teeth in and hump like a randy bloody dog. His shoulders, his biceps, his plush stomach, just lean enough to see his abdominals when he clenched to sit up, the mouthwatering heft of his balls between muscular thighs.... Fuuuh-kin' 'ell.

"Are you okay?" Nik asked, head tilting to the side.

"Grand," Price said, voice tight in his throat. "Just admirin' the scenery."

Nik smiled at him. It was the goofy little grin he only ever flashed when he was up to mischief, or planning it. Price cocked a brow as he slipped out of his boxers and lobbed them in a ball towards the laundry basket. He wasn’t quite at the 'walk around the house bollock naked' stage of his personal development. Maybe that happened when you turned forty.

Price didn't miss the way Nik's eyes ran down the length of his body as he swaggered up to the foot of the bed, bottom lip rolling between his teeth. Nik rubbed one big hand over the shaft of his cock, giving it a longing little tug as his gaze lingered on Price's lips. "Mm. Are you sure you would not rather do our usual?"

Price knelt on the mattress unsteadily, his own prick filling quickly in anticipation of getting his mouth on Nik's body. He crawled his way up the bed, marking the location of those greedy hands in case he needed to deploy countermeasures to maintain control of the engagement. "Naw. Ya promised. This is what I want."

Nik sighed, flopping his hands onto the bed, palms up. They had negotiated tying them to the headboard, because Nik might be tempted to use them as a distraction to get his own way. Wouldn't be the first time. But Nik had promised to behave. Given his word, in fact. Plus, running his hands over Price was one of the parts he enjoyed the most about sex, and Price was bloody well looking forward to feeling them clutch his back for the finale, anyway.

"Let me, Nik. Wanna make ya feel good," Price said as he sprawled at his lover's side, placing a palm in the centre of Nik's belly. He stroked his thumb through the soft hair trailing down to Nik's groin, jet black streaked with wisps of white and grey, and pressed his lips to Nik's bicep, blue eyes wide and imploring.

"I have never been able to say no to those eyes," Nik said, and leaned in for a kiss. Price let him have it, kissing slowly as he trailed that hand up to Nik's chest. His palm brushed over soft nipples, a fingertip teasing around the areola of one until it pulled tight.

Tonight was about Nik and his pleasure. Not that Nik had been able to fully grasp why Price wanted such an evening. "Because yer just asked a question as stupid as that," Price had said at the time, cutting off the end of his cigar. Nik had still looked nonplussed. It was truly baffling how little Nik considered his own needs and desires.

Price kissed slowly down Nik's jaw, savouring the bristles of stubble against his lips, tracing his nose over his neck to breathe him in. "Always smell so good," Price grumbled, leaning over to press his face into the hollow of Nik's throat for a deeper breath that made his mouth water.

"You have scents you prefer." Nik's hand couldn't stay still for long. It brushed up Price's back, fingertips skating over goosepimpled skin, sliding into his hair from the base of his neck. There was no attempt to guide, only hold, Nik’s thumb circling lazily beneath Price's ear.

"Oh yeah?" Price kissed Nik's clavicle, before working slowly down the centre of Nik's chest. He paid close attention to the curve of one glorious tit while he squeezed the other, rolling it around against his palm. Nik's cock twitched with interest; he liked having his chest played with, pushed into it, in fact.

"Da," Nik's fingers tightened a little as Price kissed across the crest of his pectoral and down the outside where the skin was soft, sensitive. It made Nik shiver, the first crack in his laid-back facade. "You prefer... mm, you prefer..."

"What do I prefer, Nik?" Price's tongue swirled around a nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, stroking the other between finger and thumb. That earned him a soft moan, Nik's head flopping back as he drew in deep breaths through his nose.

"You prefer muskier scents. Ones that, ah, John..."

"Doin' well, Nik," Price whispered, warm breath ghosting over wet skin. He guided Nik's arms up again to kiss into the dip of his armpit. Nik's fingers curled into his palm and he spread his legs, hips twitching up with a swell of arousal, another soft noise of enjoyment rumbling from that thick chest. Price kissed and nosed the underside of his bicep, before kissing deep into the groove again, where the taste and smell of Nik was rich. He lingered there until Nik shuddered out another soft moan, fingers and toes curling as his cock twitched up from his hip with an involuntary flex of his kegel.

“Soundin’ so pretty for me, sweet'eart.”

Nik flushed, self conscious, and Price squeezed the fingers wound through his just above Nik's head before he released them to kiss over Nik's obliques. Nik kept his arm curled up obediently, baring himself for Price's mouth even as his hips squirmed. Every inch of skin deserved to be worshipped, and Nik was enjoying it, his prick hard and leaking thick beads of precum where it rested heavily under its own weight against his belly. "Doin' so well," Price said again.

Price's hand had followed the progress of his mouth on the other side of Nik's body, stroking the contours of his torso down to his hip. Nik's fingers fluttered over the back of his wrist as if to ground himself, finding purchase again as he stroked into Price's hair. He was breathing heavier, fighting his instinct to take the wheel, squirming against the softness of the sheets.

Price glanced up to see Nik's head tilted back, his eyes closed and his damp lips parted, before he continued down his belly to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. It twitched against his lips and Price ran the tip of his nose down the thick vein right to the base, nuzzling into the thick curls of black hair at his groin until he could bury his face against the heft of his sac. Price kneaded at the bedsheets, growling softly, feral, as his beard and face soaked in Nik's scent.

“Are you going to eat me, John?” Nik asked, amused, his voice thick and low as he looked down the slope of his body to John’s face. He'd see wild blue eyes buried among the thick hair around his cock, the side of John's nose brushing gently over the velvet skin of his shaft. John kept his eye contact as he opened his mouth and sucked around the base of Nik's cock, tongue swirling down over his balls. “Ahh, da… John…”

Nik sounded so good like that. Breathless, a slight tremor in his voice as a sigh stuttered over parted lips. John licked and kissed lazily, working his way back up to swirl his tongue over the soft join of skin at the back of Nik’s glans until Nik's thighs were twitching. John sucked over Nik’s leaking tip, moaning wantonly as he licked it clean of precum, tongue swirling through his slit until Nik's stomach clenched. Only then, did he pull away with a swift kiss to his glans, smirking up at Nik's flustered expression.

Nik groaned and flopped a wrist over his face. “John, pochemu ty vse vremya menya draznish?”

Price chuckled, hitching up onto his elbow so he could reach for the lube he had chucked onto the bedside table earlier. When he returned his mouth to Nik's cock, his slick fingers stroked down his taint, heavy balls nestling in the curve of his palm, so warm, so perfect, that Price couldn't help but suck another deep kiss over them. The fact that Nik's thighs spread, his hips lifting to Price's mouth in little needy twitches, made Price damn near purr.

It was rare he got to tease Nik for this long. Nik was usually too impatient to get between Price's legs and Price enjoyed getting drilled too much to put up any resistance. When time was short, they defaulted to the demands of raw need, but with two days of leave behind them and two more ahead, they had time and space to indulge.

Price pressed up just behind Nik's balls, circling the walnut shaped firmness that made Nik's back bow a little from the bed, as he kissed and lapped sloppily up and down his shaft. When Price worked lower, massaging the cluster of nerves around his opening. Nik’s fingers fisted in the sheets, a soft grunt escaping his throat.

Price kissed the soft skin of Nik's inner thigh, lips lingering over his thrumming pulse. “Ty slishkom napryazheny, tebya nuzhno rasslabit'sya…”

Nik glowed, dark eyes soft. “Ha, John… your… that was good…”

“Need ya to relax for me then,” another kiss, fingers still caressing insistently at Nik's fluttering hole, “ty khochesh etogo, da, detka?” Price asked, his voice husky and thick, and it had the desired effect, Nik’s body curled a little with delight.

“Da, ya klyanus…”

“Gluboko dyshat.” Price nuzzled the heft of Nik’s balls again, shouldering his leg a little further away as his tongue followed the slick path of his fingers to Nik's hole. He kissed the flexing muscle as deeply and passionately as if it were Nik’s mouth, tongue swirling around the outer ring before lapping inside.

Nik made the most beautiful noise Price had ever heard; a desperate, broken little whimper that might have started as a Russian curse and ended in a soft plea. A world away from the guttural grunts and moans he usually made during their tumbles. Price earned another when he thrust his tongue in again, followed by his forefinger. He worked them in and out together, the firm press of his fingertip contrasting with the slick writhe of his tongue in a messy glide that made Nik tremble.

“Ahh, haa, John… John… da, yeshcho, ahh, yeshcho,” Nik moaned, pressing his head back into the pillow, his legs shaking as Price’s finger curled to find his prostate and began to circle it. As an older gent, Nik's was a little bigger, easier to locate, and Price was going to take full advantage. Bloody hell, he was so sensitive, every flick and thrust of Price's tongue teasing another tortured pant out of him, thick tits heaving as his plush belly pulled tight.

Price took his time, tugging Nik’s rim down to lap the flat of his tongue over Nik's sloppy hole, enjoying the way it fluttered and clenched greedily, plunging back inside with his mouth wide. When he slipped a second finger in, Nik was relaxed enough to take it easily; Price pressed his fingertips up in a come hither motion that made Nik choke out another whimper.

Nik was so hard, his cockhead wet and glistening, and Price pumped a hand down it, working Nik's foreskin lazily over his glans. “Fuck, yer lovin’ this, aren't ya, sweet'eart? Love me playin’ with your hole.” Price’s jaw ached, his mouth watered at the delicious taste and smell of his lover on his tongue and lips. He closed his eyes to listen to the wet noise of his fingers working into Nik, and the soft, tortured noises his big Russian was panting into the warm comfort of their bedroom.

“Da, please… mm, John, haa, ah.”

“Reckon you could take my dick? Wanna feel ya…”

“Da, da.”

Price withdrew his fingers carefully, and sat up. “On yer front, spread yer legs fer me, love. Show me that pretty hole.”

Nik shifted slowly, his cheeks flushed and red, and rolled onto his hands and knees. Price guided him with gentle, encouraging hands. He placed a bent pillow beneath Nik's hips, urging his spine into a deeper curve and spreading his knees apart. All that heft and power presenting was bloody stunning, dark body hair, plush padding and muscle, Nik was a work of art. Nik's large shoulders and biceps bunched as big hands found an anchor in the blankets, his thick thighs twitching.

“There, fuck, look at’cha.. fuckin’ gorgeous,” Price breathed, thumbs pushing into the cheeks of Nik's arse to spread them open, admiring slick muscle and whirls of jet black bodyhair. He couldn't help it. He needed to taste him once more.

Nik scrambled at the blankets as Price buried his face against him, the soft bristles of his beard a little coarse against his sensitive skin as he was devoured. Price moaned as he ate his fill, saliva dripping down the back of Nik's balls. Nik damn squeaked, overwhelmed. “John, John, ahh…”

Price's cock ached, he was so damn hard, so damn desperate. He knew he was going to come quickly but it sounded like Nik was clinging on by the skin of his teeth too, ruddy cock heavy between his legs. When Price sat up, Nik was quivering, his face buried in the pillow. He placed a palm at the small of Nik's back while the other grasped the base of his cock, lining his tip up with his hole. The sight of Nik spreading open around his cockhead, gaping around his crown, swallowing an inch of his shaft, soft as butter. “Oh, fuck, Nik… takin’ me like a natural.”

Nik wheezed into the cotton pillowcase, bearing down against the intrusion, his hole sucking Price back in when his cock withdrew. Price squared his hips up and sank his fingers into the plush fat and muscle around Nik's hips, growling at the glorious, possessive give of Nik’s body in his grip. He started slowly, rocking in and out, sinking right to the hilt, pressing his balls into the weight of Nik's.

He listened to Nik’s moans, how they rose and fell, became more intense when Price was thrusting deep. The snug, inexperienced clutch of Nik's body was heavenly, the way he fluttered and bore down, hollowing out and relaxing more as the pleasure mounted.

Price draped over Nik's back, grinding and rutting into Nik's eager hole as he licked the sweat off Nik’s back, blissfully delirious. “Yeah, Nik… yeah, so fuckin’ good, fuck, oh, fuck, yeah.”

“Faster, please…”

Price pushed his knuckles into the mattress and lifted into his toes, pounding Nik down into the bed, and forcing increasingly urgent cries that couldn't be muffled by the pillows.

“John, John… vyyebi menya sil'neye, sil'neye!”

“C’mon, Nik, come for me. Lemme hear, fuck, fuck… yeah, c’mon, love, mm, aah.”

“Da, da, da…” Nik pushed back into Price's hips, desperate, needy, and Price slipped a hand beneath them to stroke Nik's cock. It took three firm tugs until Nik was half roaring, half seething through his orgasm, muffled by the pillow he'd shoved into his own mouth to manage the intensity. Price slowed, ekeing out the last few moments of his high, the tingling, heady, breathless peak before he tumbled over.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he snarled into Nik’s back, cock pulsing inside the firm grip of Nik's body. Grey splotches splashed over his vision, and he pressed his nose into the groove of Nik's spine as he wiggled and bumped his hips against Nik’s arse, humping wantonly through his own spend like a horny bloody dog. “Fuckin' ‘ell, yer so fuckin’ hot… what the fuck was that… wot…”

Nik chuckled into the pillow, breathless and limp. “John, your pillow talk is an art form.”

“Not my fault. Yer body makes me stupid. ‘m an actual dumb fuck, I…”

Nik’s soft chortles vibrated under Price's belly, rumbled around his cock still buried to the hilt, and Price grinned into his back. Those chuckles were delirious and fucked out, thoroughly satisfied, and Price felt a surge of masculine pride at his performance. He withdrew slowly, slumping to the side so he could urge Nik down against him. “You good? Nothin’ hurtin’?”

“I think I will be sore, but in a good way, no?”

“Yeah, maybe. Still. ‘m not packin’ your horse cock, so think yerself lucky.”

“You are exaggerating.”

“Nik, the first time ya fucked me, I had to stand up for the whole flight before a HALO…”

“The whole flight?” Nik asked, sounding far too pleased with himself.

“Yeah, yeah, olrigh’. Jus’ sayin’, bit of practice, everythin’ bounces back jus’ fine.”

“Hmm. You expect this to be… regular, then.”

“Got a taste of your arse now, ‘m gonna need regular top ups,” Price said, grabbing a handful of Nik's arse cheek. He leaned up on his elbow and studied Nik's face carefully. “If yer alright with that. Don't wanna be doin’ anyfin’ yer not happy with, love.”

Nik hummed. “It was… intense. I would not be against it.”

“But?”

“Being inside of you is the closest I will ever come to God.”

“Ya jus’... come out with that shit like it's normal.”

“Da,” Nik turned and sat up on his elbow, one large paw of a hand slipping around John's jaw, thumb stroking down his throat. “Mere words are not enough to express my love for you, John. But I try.”

Price swallowed, trying to ignore the fact his eyes definitely wanted to emote far more than was truly necessary. Really. He should pull himself together, damn it. They'd just fucked raw and hard, and now he was being bloody wooed all over again.

“I love you, Nik. You soppy bastard,” he croaked, and then kissed the damn fucker before he could drop anymore purple prose and make actual tears fall.

[david-bearman]

wet and messy oscar and lando!!

god what a vision yeah, so many wayysssss

some thigh fucking ✨

---

Often people thought Oscar was oblivious, he was not. He just often decided not to say anything or acknowledge the matter at hand because there were other things to do.

So he was very well aware of the way Lando looked at his thighs, aware how he ate himself up from the inside when Oscar wore shorts to the paddock. Once, Will even berated him for wearing shorts to a meeting, because Lando couldn't pay attention, stared off in Oscar's direction like a magnet was pulling him in.

And well he's Lando's boyfriend, he would be a shit boyfriend if he didn't notice the way Lando gripped his thighs when they fucked, or how he lingered by Oscar's thighs when he gave a blowjob.

They hadn't seen each other for a particular long time, two weeks at most, when Oscar suggested it. Out of breath from the punishing kiss they just broke off, "Do you want to fuck my thighs?"

Lando stilled under him, frozen up as if he had been caught.

"What?"

Oscar pressed a small kiss under Lando's eyes and slowly worked his way down to his neck, "You're always looking at my thighs. Thought you'd maybe want to fuck them."

Oscar felt it when Lando took in a deep breath, he clearly was trying to say something, but all that came out was a high pitched squeak.

Amused, Oscar kissed lower and lower until the collar of Lando's t-shirt got in his way. He sat up on his knees, in between Lando's legs, "You don't want to fuck my thighs, baby?"

He pouted a little as he pulled his own shirt off, cold air hitting his flushed skin. Lando looked incredibly flushed, his cheeks red. Oscar pushed his hands under Lando's t-shirt and rucked it up, trying to get enough space so he could fully pull it off.

Lando finally got the message when he reached his nipples and slowly let his finger go over one of them, the pebbled skin raising under his hands. He pulled his arms up and Oscar easily let his t-shirt go the same way.

"I- just, are you sure?" Lando asked in a rough voice.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

Lando squirmed under his gaze, Oscar knew there was something he wanted to say, but he probably didn't want to offend Oscar. He leaned down and kissed Lando slowly, in the process accidentally making their semi-hard cocks touch. Oscar groaned in the kiss, savoring it before he pulled back.

"Come on, say it. Want you to be honest," Oscar pressed.

Lando flushed before he rattled it off, "You- you often don't want to bottom, and- that is absolutely fine. You know I like being fucked- so, you know. What if you-"

Oscar shut him up with a kiss and this time deliberately pressed his groin against Lando's, rolling his hips to chase any kid of friction.

He pulled away with a dark look, "Just because I don't always like to bottom doesn't meant I'm going to hate it when you fuck my thighs. I'm asking for it, baby."

Lando stared at him with an open mouth and then as if kicked into gear he pulled he legs away from Oscar and unbuttoned his jeans, taking them off in rapid fashion. He threw them by the bed and then scrambled off to muck around in his messy suitcase, most likely for lube.

Oscar smiled fondly as he laid down on the bed, undoing his own pants and taking off his underwear to leave him naked on the bed. The second Lando turned back around to the bed Oscar could see his eyes widen in arousal. He propped himself up with a pillow behind his head and eagerly met Lando in a deep kiss. Tongues exploring one another as if they were meeting for the first time, wanting to commit everything to memory.

Lando's hands wandered to his thighs and Oscar grinned into the kiss, grabbing Lando's nape to claim his possession. They kissed desperately until Oscar pulled away, his cock already hard enough as it was.

Lando looked at him as if he had hung the moon and stars and Oscar felt overcome with love. He took the bottle of lube from where Lando had dropped it on the bed and gave it back to him.

"So how should we do this? If you still want to kiss me maybe I should turn half to the side?"

Lando licked his lips, "However you feel comfortable."

Oscar hummed and turned his hips and legs to the side, making sure he was still laying straight so he could look at Lando however he wanted. He watched as Lando opened the bottle of lube and squeezed out almost a quarter of the liquid onto his hands. Oscar opened his thighs inviting Lando to slick up his skin.

"Come on, love," Oscar encouraged him.

Kicked into motion Lando rubbed the lube onto Oscar's skin, Lando's hand dangerously close to his balls in a way that made him hot all over. He closed his legs and groaned at how wet he felt, the feeling unfamiliar but so arousing.

Lando slicked up his cock with even more lube and Oscar deliriously thought that if all he needed to be fucked was to be dripping with lube they should've done this ages ago.

He pulled Lando in by his wrist, "Please, Lando. Come on."

For a moment Lando searched his face and while Oscar understood he couldn't help but moan out loud when he felt the tip of Lando's cock push into the wet space between his thighs. Lando's big hands on his hip felt grounding, he groaned when he felt Lando push in further and further until he felt their cocks bump together.

"God, yes," Oscar shuddered as he threw his head back.

"You have no idea- no idea what you're doing to me," moaned Lando, as he slowly pulled back.

Oscar tensed the muscles in his thighs, creating an even tighter space for Lando to fuck into.

"Faster, Lan, please."

Lando obliged immediately and fucked into Oscar's thighs, the sounds of skin against skin, added by the glide of slick lube send shivers through Oscar's body. He felt his cock weep as he clenched the mattress covers beneath him.

"You feel so good."

Oscar nodded in response, "Yes, yes so good."

Lando gritted his teeth as his fingers dug into Oscar's skin, "I'm not going to last, Osc."

Oscar shook his head and moaned out, "Don't care, please come between my thighs."

Begging or ordering Lando to come had always worked wonderfully, as it did now when Lando spilled between his thighs, adding to the mess. Oscar groaned as he felt the cum covering his own cock and balls.

Lando pulled away and immediately Oscar opened his thighs, Lando scrambling between them and jerking him off in a punishing rhythm. Oscar didn't need much at all before he came as well, all of the tensing pouring out of his body as he lay limp in their bed.

He tried to steady his breath as Lando laid down next to him, "Fuck."

Lando grinned, "Fuck indeed."

send me a number and maybe a preferred of the three and a ship and lets make these dark das a bit warmer

[starqueensthings]

I’ve been trying to think of a funny caption for these for an embarrassingly long time, but the only thing coming to mind is “WHEEENNNNN the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie that’s amoreeeEEEEE.”

one of the originals for your viewing pleasure

ragu: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @sunshinedaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @rabbitstu99 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator

[daemon-in-my-head]

Fucking around with tyrants, shadows and undercuts. How bad could it be?

Also, this:

Brother I have no fucking idea what happened to him. He looked like Gort once. And then I revised it. And then I did it again. And then I added his new hairstyle. Anyway ig this is Skenver now and if someone wants to adopt him let me know.

[seospicybin]

Unless I get sick or busy or abducted by alien, I'll post Fuckboy Next Door part 2 tomorrow.

[f0rgetf0rgetting]

old man yuri

[the-winter-brothel]

"Alright, I've put on the blindfold. Now, what?" This can either go really good or really badly.

[lucyskywalker]

So... Nobody told me Sean Bean played King Zeus in PJO movies...

And Odysseus in Troy...

For some reason I find it so funny.

[maimaimelle]

happy birthday, mammon. (2023 edition)

[miraiq]

let me assign you an affection language

consumption of a heart unloved

Here’s a dining table, here’s a set of plates. Here’s your heart, red and bursting with love. You have tried to love people all your life, but no one seems to understand you. Your own mother perhaps forgot to teach you how to protect yourself, maybe people whom you trusted chose to look the other way when all you wanted was a hand full of love. All you want is someone to take from you, all you want is someone to dig in your heart and eat it and kiss you afterwards - bloody and red. You want them to tell you that you are what they have been looking for, you want to be the one who ends their hunger.

" Well that is---- alrighty then. "

tagged by: @bishonenprince tagging: you! if you haven't done it - @shrineofprophecy , @moonsmultimusings , @forbelobog , @xiincun , @guinifen , @heartwilled

[daemon-in-my-head]

Anyway, my Rook

I may or may not have a particular taste.

[jb-bang]

Going to serch both my grandparents house to see if they have rawhide DVDs

[caelumangeli]

My Pirate Captain, Zelene Strongmoon I decided to draw as a human this time.

Started to color her but i don't like my coloring so just have the lineart

Originally she's a Leonin- so her story is based off that type of background

But she's an angry Path of Beast Barbarian with a soft spot for birds people/children

i have a lot of ideas for her.

In the end she is a self proclaimed Queen Admiral, and basically has a personal 'fleet' known as the Moonraiders(which i only have 4 named ships of)

[deliajackson]

Even Sally herself addimited she was being selfish.

Even Sally herself.

I love Sally; I do. But that is a really important point in her entire character, and giving that a pass or change it with headcanons turning her into a one dimensional character... Well... Changes the narrative. Quite a lot.

Sally Jackson choice safety over stability in terms of how she'd take care of her child. Both her and Percy faced years abuse by the hands of one man. Does this make her a good mother who was in over her head or an unprepared one making an impulsive decision?

You found the one hot take even I haven’t dared say aloud yet, because I think it may just be my most unpopular opinion in this fandom. One thing everyone in this fandom seems to agree on is the “universal truth” that Sally Jackson is the best mother in the history of fictional mothers. So, here’s my hot take:

Sally Jackson is not that perfect mother the fandom pretends she is.

Sally during the series? Presented as a loving and good mother. But to get to that point? Pre-series Sally is not written as a good mom; she’s written as a plot-device with the things the author needs to happen in mind and not the motivation of a good mother who prioritizes her child’s happiness and safety in mind.

And I’ll back that claim up with three ways in which Sally has failed Percy as a mother. Not just once, but repeatedly, for years.

But before we get into that, I’d like to switch what you said first. Sally Jackson chose stability over safety. Sally chose the stability of keeping her child at her side over said child’s safety. She made an inherently selfish decision that was not with her child’s best interest and overall safety in mind.

Now, the first - and most obvious one - is Smelly Gabe.

And before I can elaborate on that, I need to clarify one very important thing here, before anyone goes “don’t blame the victim!” on me: Sally Jackson is not a victim; she’s a fictional character. Fictional characters can be written as victims, but they are not autonomous people who make their own choices; their choices are very deliberately made by their author for them. And I want to look at the choices that went into writing her this way, writing her story this way.

Real abuse victims get stuck in abusive relationships for a variety of reasons and they don’t get out of them for equally various reasons. Most of the time, it’s something like “he was so sweet and kind at first, but by the time he showed his real face, it was too late” (and, as a note to that; Percy describes Gabe as having been nice to them for a total of thirty seconds before showing his real face. Now while that is, of course, and exaggeration, it still goes to say that Gabe was pretty much upfront about what kind of person he was).

I’ve never heard one start with “he was the most disgusting, grossest man I could possibly find”. Sally Jackson chose this man. Not just in the way one picks a partner. She went out there and chose the stinkiest, grossest man.

It was a deliberate choice on Riordan’s part to have Sally choose an abusive relationship over sending her son away for his own safety. And this decision did not keep Percy safe; Percy Jackson was abused in his own home, by a horribly stinking man, for six years of his life. That’s not keeping your child safe.

The choice was not made to keep Percy safe; the choice was made to keep Percy with Sally. It was inherently selfishly motivated; she didn’t want to send him away, she wanted to keep him with her.

Sally loves Percy, she loves him dearly and fiercely, I’m not arguing that. But that love led to her not wanting to let go of him. And sometimes, parenting means making tough choices, sometimes loving someone means you have to make a tough decision.

In this case, the “tough decision” is presented as Sally bravely putting up with six years of abuse at Gabe’s hand. That’s the narrative chosen by the author.

But the actual “tough decision” would have been to send Percy to Camp Half-Blood, where he would have been safe. That’s the tough choice a mother would have had to make to keep her child safe.

That’s the tough choice the parents of most of the year-rounders have made. Mister Beauregard sent his daughter all the way from Paris to New York to give her this safety. The distance alone guaranteeing he wouldn’t see her for years potentially - because flying between New York and Paris is not necessarily easily affordable for everyone. Sally’s option was to send Percy to a camp that’s literally one and a half hours away. She could have still seen him, he could have easily visited her.

But her solution was to mask Percy’s scent by marrying a stinking, gross, abusive man.

Let me just stretch once more: Sally’s choice did not keep Percy safe. Sally’s choice made their home unsafe. It brought the danger and pain into their home. It may have moderately protected Percy from monsters - until The Lightning Thief kicked in - but it did not keep Percy actually safe, because it put him into a different kind of danger and through a different kind of pain.

For six years. And, this is where the “not a real person but a fictional character” thing comes up again, because this isn’t a woman where one choice leads to a date with a man which leads to a relationship which leads to abuse that she doesn’t know how to get out of anymore. She is a fictional character whose journey was set out to end with her being in an abusive relationship.

And we also don’t know why she didn’t get out of it. She’s not a real person, we don’t know if she was so scared of Gabe that she didn’t know how to leave, if her lack of a support system is what led to her not leaving him, or if it was the motivation of not giving up Percy. The real, actual reason is that Riordan wanted to keep her in there and keep Percy out of the loop until he was twelve and The Lightning Thief could happen. Because she was able of getting rid of him as soon as the truth unravelled and Percy met camp.

And I’d like to use the way she did that to drive back home just how bad Gabe was, just how bad the situation Sally and Percy were in for six years, really was.

She murders him. She flat-out murders him. Both, her and Percy, together. This twelve-year old child who we meet and get to know as kind and not... not a murder-child, is ready to kill a man. That’s how badly Gabe abused them; both of these kind people chose murder to get rid of him.

And it’s just something I’ve never gotten over. Riordan really made the decision that his protagonist’s mom would rather get them both into an abusive home than give Percy up to camp. That was his decision; there could have been other ways. One thing that would have made this seem less like a deliberate choice would have, for example, been Sally not knowing about camp.

If she was a desperate mother, who saw no other options? That’d have made the situation different too. But we know Sally knew about camp. She knew there was a place she could send her son where he would be safe from the monsters, but she decided against that, she decided that she wanted to keep him close, at any costs - and the cost was six years of abuse.

I do not think that this decision should be framed as a heroic sacrifice, because the fact that she knew of an actually safe solution and decided against it was inherently selfish. She did not put up with six years of abuse for selfless reasons because there was “no other way”; there was, she knew that, but the author didn’t want her to take that.

Sometimes, the sacrifice is letting go of your child. And, as mentioned before, she wouldn’t have let go of him for good - camp is in the same bloody city as she is living. Literally one and a half hours away from her.

Now on to the other two ways in which I think Sally Jackson failed Percy.

For one, the lies about his father. Now, real people who are left by their partner with a baby, they can pick whatever to tell their kids whenever. But, again, this is a fictional character and the author makes the decision for her. And this, again, was a decision made solely based on the end result; Riordan needed Percy to not be in the know by the time The Lightning Thief came around, even though from a character-perspective, telling Percy the truth earlier would have been the logical and right decision.

If your kid is a demigod who is attracting real actual monsters with his scent alone? Percy started really attracting monsters when he was six years old and for the next six years, Sally didn’t disclose the truth to him; not about monsters, not about his father, not about the fact that Percy may have powers.

Percy attracted so many monsters that it led to Sally getting married to Gabe. That’s how badly he attracted monsters. Which also implies that Percy must have seen monsters. We get to see in The Lightning Thief just how much Percy thinks he’s going crazy with the things he sees. And that’s  been going on for six years too - six years and in those, his scent only got stronger.

This, again, isn’t just one decision she made. This is a decision she made every single day over and over again. The decision not to tell Percy about his father, the powers, the simple reassurance that he’s not going insane, that monsters are real. This was Percy’s reality and it would obviously only become more and more of an issue the older Percy got, but every single day, she chose not to tell him, to let him believe not just a lie but also steadily that he was going crazy.

And it’d have gone a long way if he had just known. Even with Gabe in their life, even if she hadn’t made the choice to send him to camp at age six, it’d have helped him so much to know the truth and be prepared for this life.

Because this wasn’t just an issue of “the guy left me, I don’t want to talk about it with my kid”, this was inherently about, once more, Percy’s safety. Knowing what to watch out for, knowing the thing you should watch out for is actually real, are huge factors in Percy’s safety. Having him as well-prepared as possible.

She knew his father was Poseidon. It’s not even that she had sex with some dude, not knowing who he was. She knew he was Poseidon. She knew what Percy’s parentage was, she must have observed the slow development of Percy’s powers over the years.

But again, she chose to leave him in the dark about it. He could have been well-prepared by age twelve. Read up everything on Poseidon, experimented with potential powers he may have, understanding why the fishes in the aquarium are talking to him and that he is not actually hearing voices, learning.

But that’s not useful for the author; Riordan wants an unprepared Percy who can be used to introduce this world to the reader.

The choice to not tell Percy the truth about his father and about being a demigod was made deliberately and, again, not in Percy’s best interest. And in this case, there really is no other interpretation left aside from “the author needs it to happen this way” - with Gabe, there is the legitimate argument that she may have been at one point just an abused woman stuck in a relationship with no out because we don’t know enough to know what her motivation and situation were exactly - but there is... no benefit at all in lying to Percy about this, no reason for it.

The moment he first started being in actual life-threatening danger because monsters came after him, it became a pressing matter to tell him what monsters are, that they are real and why they are after him and to prepare him for it.

Which brings me to the third instance.

She never prepared him - even just in a mortal manner. Even if we let the first two - the marriage to Gabe and the lies about his father - stand as they are, Sally could have done something very simple to prepare Percy for his life and to help keeping him safe.

Self-defense classes. Judo. Martial arts. Sword-fighting classes. Whatever.

Many parents teach their kids these kind of things from a young age. Parents whose kids aren’t in constant danger of being attacked by monsters. One of your first parental instincts should be to teach your kid to be safe; to protect themselves. Give him the means to fight back.

So, that’s it. That’s the three very vital and important instances in which I think Sally failed Percy as a mother; not just once, but repeatedly, for years.

Instead of sending him to a safe place where he could learn about his heritage and learn control of his powers as well as learning how to fight the monsters after his life, she chose to marry an abusive, smelly man whose scent would mask Percy’s. Probably. Hopefully. But it didn’t really, not all the time. As shown by The Lightning Thief and monsters coming after Percy. And Percy starts to think he’s crazy, because at no point did she tell him about the monsters, and at no point does he really know how to fight for his life, because at no point did she put the means to defend himself into his hands.

No. No, I do not think that those are the decisions a good mother would make. Those are decisions the author made because he knew the starting point of his story and he knew where Percy’s character needed to be for that.

The thing that’s glossed over are the choices Riordan implicitly made Sally make. To get to this point for Percy, at age 12, he had to make Sally repeatedly act against Percy’s best interests and deliberately not tell Percy the truth or teach him way to stay safe. So he masks those choices by putting on a framework that’s meant to make you only look at her suffering and the outcome, not the choices that led to it. That was Riordan’s choice and he framed it in a way that the fandom ate up and celebrates, when... neither Sally, nor Riordan, had do to that. There was another option on the table and, if Riordan had sat down and thought hard, I’m pretty sure there would have been more options.

The bottom line, what Sally’s parenting comes down to in the end, is that she and Percy got stuck with an abusive man for six years, because she didn’t want to send him to an actual safe place, she spent six years essentially gaslighting Percy about the things he hears/sees by not telling him the monsters are actually real and she repeatedly left him in unnecessary danger by not giving him the means to defend himself in any way whatsoever. And those are not signs of good parenting, not in my book.

But it’s just so much easier to ignore all of that and pretend that blue candy and trips to Montauk are the end all be all and that Sally’s fierce love for her son is the most defining trait of parenting. I know that. Most of the time, I’m right there with you - I love fanon!Sally, I love to pretend she’s the best mom ever and never did anything wrong, because I know the decisions are inherently made by Riordan and are a by-product; I know he wants her to be a good mother, I know throughout the series, he writes her as a good and loving mother.

But if I have to be honest and if I look at the whole text, including the implications of their past, canon!Sally isn’t that good of a mother.

[impyernos]

I'M FREEEEEEEEEEEEE