#I'm saying that making fun of men and boys as a culture and saying they should all die IS FUCKING WEIRD

[boyapologist]

no but like can you fucking IMAGINE how much shit people would get if they turned "all women should die" into pop culture slang. do you realize how bizarre that sounds when you invert the genders. that's what I was talking about on that post. you guys just read the word misandry and foam at the mouth because you need to score your online moral superiority points by stating how much you believe it's not real

[logansdoll]

Heyyy. Ok really cheesy but I’d like to request a Logan x reader friends to lovers where it’s like an accidental confession. Maybe someone makes fun of the reader and Logan without thinking about it just starts yelling and defending why the reader is great and everything he loves about her? Ik it’s a little OOC but maybe he gets so mad (as Wolverine does) that he gets all mushy without realizing lol. Thanks ❤️❤️

lotus

while on library duty, Logan overhears two girls talking shit about you... and corrects it quickly.

CW: sorry i went in a little different direction, suggestive, profanity, takes place during the timeline of the og X-Men, these girls are bitches, etc.

"I just don't get what's the big deal about her," Maya scoffed, resting her cheek in her palm as she thoughtlessly flipped through her biology textbook.

Talia nodded, glancing up from her notes with an excitement that screamed nothing to do.

"No, seriously," she agreed. "Like we get it... you can grow shit. Big deal."

That piqued Logan's interest.

With Jean and Scott off on a date, the professor away, and you and Ororo teaching a joint class, he was slapped with library duty—watching the kids during their scheduled study period.

Now, originally, he planned on simply plopping himself down in a corner and puffing his cigar, hoping to fall asleep and just ride out his sentence.

And he was halfway there, too.

But just as he was about to catch some Zs, his hearing picked up on a conversation between two older girls who seemed to be trash talking his girlfriend.

"Word," Maya turned the next page, a grimace settling on her face when she noticed the image of a flower.

One you were very vocal about liking.

"She won't shut up about these stupid lotus flowers either... Hey! Did you guys know that the lotus is considered sacred in many Eastern cultures? And it often symbolizes purity, beauty, and rebirth!"

Talia let out an obnoxious snicker, the impression not nearly as funny as what she was making it to be.

But maybe she just hated you that much...

"You sound just like her," she commended, very much amused. "Only she's always smiling. Like I've never seen her frown before... it's almost creepy."

"Seriously creepy. But Peter can't get enough of it... you know he has a crush on her, right?"

"Seriously?!"

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, tickled by the news.

He'd caught the boy staring at you during a few Danger Room sessions, but didn't think much of it, assuming he'd just caught him while he happened to be looking in your direction.

Oh, how wrong he was...

He couldn't wait to tell you later tonight.

"Mhmm. Half the boys at school nearly fall over themselves to make sure they're not late to her class... It's almost funny."

"Funny, my ass. Why'd it have to be Peter?" Talia huffed, tossing her pencil at the textbook in frustration. "She's not even that pretty. I've had dogs that look better than her."

Maya attempted to muffle a snicker, but Logan heard it loud and clear, his brows furrowing at the horrible comment.

"I'm serious. She puts up this whole nice and innocent act, but I bet she's a raging bitch behind closed doors."

That was it.

All the stuff before was just normal, teenage jealousy; something he'd—albeit reluctantly—let slide.

But calling you out of your name?

Insulting your character?

Comparing you to a dog?

A line had to be drawn.

"Tali, you can't say that," Maya chuckled, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

"Like I care," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'd tell it to her face if I ever got the chance. Just walk right up to her and say—"

"Say what?"

The girls nearly jumped out their skin, whipping around, only to be met by Logan's arched brow, the man leaning up against a bookshelf as he puffed on his cigar.

They were at a loss for words, unable to say anything under his imposing presence.

"Don't get shy now," he goaded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on. Tell me what you're gonna say to Dr. (l/n)."

The two were practically frozen, frantically glancing at each other for assistance, Logan's eyes flicking between the two expectantly.

"Nothing?" he hummed. "That's funny... 'cause you both seemed to have plenty of shit to say earlier."

Both their faces fell almost instantly, the color practically draining from Talia.

"You heard that?" Maya squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Every word," Logan nodded. "And what I managed to gather from it was that you both just can't stand her because she's kind, passionate, pretty, and beloved."

He listed each trait off on his fingers, glancing at the two for confirmation.

"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"

They remained silent, hanging their heads in embarrassment as Logan's confrontation had garnered the attention of the whole library.

"Well, then, how's this..." he pulled the cigar out his mouth. "I'll let you both off this time with a warning... but if I catch either of you trash talkin' anybody again, teacher or student, you're grounded."

"'Til when?" Talia asked, nervously.

"'Til I tell you you're not."

The end of day bell punctuated his statement, a flourish of shutting books and closing pencil cases muffling the girls' sighs of relief.

"Now get outta here."

He had never seen two students pack up so fast.

They were gone in T-minus ten, and once the library was cleared out, Logan allowed himself to sit down, letting out his own sigh.

He could've tore into them infinitely worse—and he honestly wanted to for that dog comment—but he figured that was the right, and legal, amount for a teacher.

But even still...

'I dunno how a girl who can only float two inches off the ground is talkin' about (n/n) havin' a shitty power...'

[0w0tsuki]

My thing about the femboy discourse is that I don't think there's much value in trying to delineate whether femboys are "really TMA" because that's not my fucking problem with femboys. My problem is something even the other trans feminists who've talked about this have had to tip-toe around and I'm just going to outright say it.

A MAJORITY of self identified femboys/femboy attracted people (yeah because our problem is not with the identity in and of itself but how the attraction to the transfeminine body while denying the transfemininity is a core tenent to Femboy culture. This cis girl who's into femboys because she sees them as someone that she as a woman can have power over un the patriarchy is a part of this conversation too) in the WIDER online community (Tumblr is a bubble!) are OPEN transmisogynists. Open as in they loudly proclaim their view of transfems as men, their complete disrespect of transfems boundaries, and their fetishisation of all transfeminine bodies as their preferred male sex object. Open as in STEALING the identity of Transfem Sex workers for their sissy scam blogs. Open as in harassing anyone they can get their hands on about how transfemininity is shoved down their throats. Open as in they can get together and make entire social media sites unusable with their bitchfit crybaby tantrums about Transfem existence.

Everybody loves to come together and make fun of these cretins when they get together to rage about the newest Transfem confirmation as a way to virtue signal being to recognize obvious out and proud transmisogyny and then collectively snap their fingers to forget about them the instant they quite down. The instant they would have to recognize that people like this are ALWAYS this vocal about it in their personal lives they just aren't as organized. The instant they would have to recon that there is a large contingent of mspec transmisoginists who are obsessed with transfems and make it their life's goal to sexualize our existence as much as possible while denying us our femininity and humanity.

The instant that they would have to recon that perhaps femboy isn't a queer friendly catchall term for "feminine boy" and is actually a term with history. That in that history there is trauma, exploitation, and harrasment. That that history is happening daily. That there are transfems whose only history with the term IS THAT HISTORY. That there are transfems whose experience with femboys has been the most transmisogynistic hateful bile she's ever experienced.

The instance a transfem asserts that she might not be 100% comfortable being around self identified femboys. That she might not not take kindly to the assertion that they are essentially the same thing and that infact femboys are her closest ally in the queer community. She's told to put all that to the side because uwu soft bean tboys would self combust from sadness if they were forced to think for even a second that their new word for gender expression might not be the purest thing in the world and they would actually have to be considerate of how they interact with others.

Then she's an evil perisex bio essentialist who just hates men being feminine and gender nonconformity and is trying to pull the ladder up by denying eggs femboy culture. She's actually actually an anti-sex puritan whose having an autogynophilia based disgust reaction. She's a pickme trying to throw Transfem femboys under the bus.

If you want transfems to feel safe around femboys then stop attacking everyone who doesn't. Work on your own problems. Neither of you were responsible for burning this bridge but it's selfish of you to put it on her to fix it. Your going to have to put an effort into stopping those fires from being started. Do not blame her for being burned.

[nexionswild]

IN WHICH MANEATER!reader admits their feelings for the van der linde boys. [p.2] [p.1]

includes: charles ∿ lenny ∿ sean ∿ bill

content warning: fluff, a little angsty in bill’s part, no pronouns [GN]

a/n: i think half of them are so ooc nd im so sorry omdgshjq i’m still trying to figure out how to write for lenny and sean but i promise i’ll get better with time 🦾

✦ ﹒ charles smith

you caught him off guard, that's for sure..

charles is used to being perceived as intimidating and scary, considering his origins and his size, but that's what you like about him.

he never noticed how you'd stare lovingly whenever he'd explain his cultural way of hunting down animals or practice some other things.

and you never noticed how much he had to turn his head away when he saw you flirting men according to dutch's plan. but charles have dignity, and would admit to have found himself jealous every time you'd coo love words out of those pretty lips of yours.

probably needs time to acknowledge that you're dead serious about this relationship, and really looking forward to it. he's not against it tho, he's just.. surprised.

be ready because those massive hands of his are never leaving your waist the moment he gracefully accepts your confession. like never ever. and he doesn't have any shame either, and maybe he'll refrain from being too much of a sweetie in camp for your sake, given you can be easily embarassed if he surprise you with his loving demeanour, but he won't hold back as soon as the gang members are away.

"my mother taught me all the ways to treat a lover.. i hope it'll meet your expectations."

unfiltered romantic. it makes you blush how much he says the most romantic thing out of pocket and pretend like that never happened.

your name is the only thing that comes out of his mouth every now and then, you know because arthur keeps mentioning how much charles talks about you as if you were the only beautiful thing that's plaguing his mind.

✦ ﹒ lenny summers

lenny is so flustered, i'm sorry, god, he's baby

he probably stammered like a fool after you confessed, why wouldn't he? you're perfect, so perfect and he's just some kid, trying to be a big bad outlaw. perhaps that's what you like about him. he's nervous like a little kitty, and lord knows how much nervous men makes your day.

"i- i.. ahem.. yes, yes, of course!"

you made him so embarassed, i hope you're proud of yourself.

he'll struggle telling you how jealous he felt, it didn't really struck his mind first before you even confessed, i mean, sure he did think you were charming, but he never really bat an eye at your work.

he only got feelings because you were fun to listen to, you didn’t notice how he’d watch you every time you went on your drunken rants. it’s only recently that you found out according to karen.

for most of the part, lenny would rely on you. i mean you can’t blame him, you’re popular. in a way, you are, you’re like dutch. you have a lot of contacts, and charisma, he’s been a bystander. he’s pretty awkward, he doesn’t know what to do, but you find it cute, somehow.

of course, he’ll start to man up eventually when he feels more confident by the time you’ve shown him what you’re most comfortable with in terms of love languages, and he easily adapts himself to it. i mean, he absolutely loves spending time with you, and the amount of patience you put in for him really melts his heart in a way, but he’ll never admit it. ever.

depending on what you’re most comfortable with, lenny would gladly ride all the way to saint-denis for the simple wish of getting you something expensive, or even bring you along with him so you get to choose what you want. something he didn’t expect to see is you using your flirtatious ways of getting an item for free.

“you really know how to fool a man.. please don’t make a fool out of me.”

✦ ﹒ sean macguire

“ha! i knew ya’d fall for me!”

absolutely did not know you’d fall for him.

sean likes to be confident, at least he likes to appear confident. but often mix things up with arrogance, and if you were to call him out on that, he would tone it down a little. he doesn’t mean to be rude to you, he’s genuinely happy, he just doesn’t know how to properly express it.

sean have a loud mouth, and he didn’t hide the fact that he was getting irritated when men were attracted to you, often times he’d be barked at by arthur or john for fucking up your plan for being jealous. he never understood it, he thought he was being a gentleman chasing those creeps away.

he’s a comedian, on accident. you don’t know how to describe it but there’s something really sweet in seeing him ramble to the point where he’s humorous like that. you guess that’s how you fell for him. sean is so honest. and so dumb, too.

what you most love, is when he gets drunk. that’s where he starts to be overwhelmingly affectionate. and the gang teases you about it, but you couldn’t care less. he’s adorable that way! why would you make fun of something as precious as his honesty? especially when he’s slurring on his words, too?

he’s not a charmer with words, and he knows it. that’s why the best he could do to prove his love is by teasing or joking around with you, he’s trying his best.

“these english men keeps bullyin’ ya… just tell me! i’ll shoot ‘em right between thei’ eyes, yeah?”

he wants to look strong and fearless for you, he wants to impress you in every way he can. sometimes, you’d see him getting angry about the fact that he lost something, wether i’d be a fist fight or a game, but the moment he sees you, he gets embarrassed.

you’re the only one who can reassure him that what he failed to achieve doesn’t matter much, the effort is more important.

✦ ﹒ bill williamson

doesn’t believe you. at all.

bill was always made fun of, or teased by others to get a rise out of him. and he doesn’t believe you, because he thinks it’s just another way to make him mad. but he can’t help and think how evil this is, using you, someone he truly admire, to pick on him?

when you insist that you’re not joking, bill starts to get angry. not at you, but it’s just the way he is, he’s trying his best but he’s still in doubt.

given your reputation with men, and how many times he have to ignore you on duty, he just think it’s purely for the entertainment of seeing him falling like a fool. williamson is someone who’s not joking around, and that you know.

“if you love me, why would you?” he snaps. then immediately regrets. he doesn’t wanna lash it out on you, and he’d drink himself to death if he’s actually convinced that you love him that way.

he wants to apologize, but no words are leaving his mouth. and there’s an unbearable amount of pressure on his shoulders by this point, but when you take your time and explain to him the reason behind your fondness, he softens up a tad.

you had the patience to deal with him, surely you were serious?

“fine. i believe you. but i’m warning you, if this is some sick joke, i’ll—… i’ll…”

he won’t do anything.

for the past few weeks, you’ve been awfully affectionate towards him to prove your point. and he complains about it, tho he secretly enjoy having your full undivided attention. every time dutch planned to take him for a mission, you’ve been prepping his saddle and equipments, and when he came back, you’ve welcome him back with your arms open.

and while you were acting like some kind of stay-at-home spouse, bill would be silently protective over you. when you have to talk to men and women and fake another of your identity to wrap them around your finger, bill would silently sit at a table nearby and watch carefully, making sure no one lays a finger on you.

and when you thank him for his care through kisses, all you hear are grumbling noises and a little “you’re welcome”.

he’s just an angry worked up man, but you love him for it. (surprisingly!)

[thesirencult]

MEN ARE LOOKING FOR THE APPROVAL OF OTHER MEN, NOT YOU

You know what I'm talking about. He is not looking to impress you. He is looking to impress his boys by being with you.

You are just another stroke for his ego.

Only 5%-10% of men do not care about their peer's approval. Let that sink in. You are less important to them than some of their friends are. This is why if a guy's friend makes fun of his gf he would drop her.

Now, women. We don't go around building strong relationships. Sadly, we stay competing with eachother for men's attention!! We should all create a girl circle with a couple good, strong ladies who are TRUE friends. Even if you can find just one good girlfriend or a gay friend, DO IT!

Why do you think he got you that Range Rover ? Why did he buy you the Cartier Bracelet that absolutely does not hold its own worth ?

He just wants other men to see you and feel jealous. Then they will consider him the ALphA.

When you are a high value woman you automatically raise the value of ANY MAN YOU LOOK AT.

That's why wealthy but low value men marry superficial but gorgeous women. They can play "arm-candy". Can you even imagine being with a man who does not consider you a person with their own identity, thoughts and ideas? Is the money worth it? How much does your dignity cost?

Don't get discouraged if the vast majority of men don't approach you. There are guys out there who have escaped this mindset or don't really care about the opinions of others. Sometimes I wonder if it is much better to find a "nerdy" guy rather than a boastful man. Maybe we should stop attaching value to superficial things like cars and a big attitude. Many high value men are super humble and reserved, cause they don't want anything to do with this "fast and shiny" culture.

I'm against approaching men first but I've noticed that many successful relationships start by a guy who is interested yet reserved and a girl that seduces him slowly and lets him explore her slowly.

They are only a handful of them, but look around you... How many women do you see who are truly high value in the way you're trying to be?

How many women do you see boosting men's egos and getting nothing in return?

Like I always say : Invest in yourself, build your own empire and let someone in only if they are there to support you and love you.

[matriarchjojo]

⠀⠀  ⠀⠀⠀  ⠀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐎.

KOKONOI + BIMBO!READER ‧₊˚⊹

18+, chubby!reader, friends to fwb, oral, public sex, praise, rich ass reader and koko, mutual pining, fucked out koko, (kind of) inexperienced koko, softdom!reader + sub!kokonoi, use of 'good boy' and 'mistress', mentions of bdsm and pegging,

You and your bestie koko just went shopping together and were now on your way, driving home in a limo, and.. you suggest sucking his dick.

All chars are over 18 ⊹ reader's skin color is not mentioned ⊹ mdni

The two of you were just coming out of dior after buying some heels and earrings, right on your way to Koko's limo. The driver was already waiting for you two. "And after he talked all that shit i said 'with that outfit?'" He told you about some stories back when he was part of a gang, and you two laughed. "That's so like you!" You giggled. "I wish I would have been there, ugh.."

you said as you got into the back of the car with the nice golden lighting and expensive champagne. Koko watched you get in, and as you turned your head, his gaze was very obviously on your ass.

Once he noticed you looked at him, he quickly looked away, and you had a knowing grin on your face before sitting down on the seats.

"So..we're going home?" You asked, you already knew the answer. "Yes."

All you two did was get dressed nicely to go shopping and then just sit at Koko's huge nice couch and watch movies from 1990 to the 2000s. You would watch for hours.. until it was pitch black outside and koko either let you sleep there or he would drive you home.

"Oh, koko! Do you remember that guy I mentioned I liked?" Koko remembered. He hated him.

He pretended to be this cultured man who liked art, fancy music, and all that shit.. but koko knew exactly he was just trying to impress you. He hated those fucking men, "sadly i do.." no man you ever brought up was ever good enough for you in kokos opinion.

You rolled your eyes with a grin "anyways..he invited me to a party in some fancy villa," you explained, and koko sipped on the champagne, rolling his eyes "mhm.."

"I won't go."

He didn't expect you to say that..he expected you to go and let this limp dicked fucker fuck you and leave you unsatisfied. Like every guy you wrnt on a date with..

He would never ever say this but..he could definitely make you cum so hard you'd go blind

"Ohoho~" he purred all cocky "you'll just let that amazing man go, huh?" You laughed and softly hit his upper arm with the back of your hand."I just don't wanna hear him talk anymore! God!" Koko looked at you with the most cockiest grin."Are you saying that... I was right?" He fake gasped, and you bitterly grinned at him in return "no I'm not saying that." You said.

"It's just that I just wanna be with you today," koko couldn't help but feel his heart soften a little bit. "It's way more fun to be with my best friends than with some boring fuck boy" and just like that you let his heart down again. Of course, koko loved you as a friend. In fact, he would say he enjoyed being around you more than anyone else actually. But he couldn’t help but think about 'what if'

What if he kissed you?

What if he told you he'd treat you better than anyone else ever did?

What if he told you that he'd eat you out?

What if you two were more than friends?

But he's afraid that if he did all of the above, he would lose you. And he didn't wanna risk it. Even though the way you looked at him most of the time was more than a friendly look.

"Well, that sounds perfect because I was planning on the same thing," koko said as he took a sip of his champagne with raised eyebrows. You smiled at him and then looked away to bite your bottom lip.

That's it.

That's what he meant.

Now it was dead quiet again, and there was sexual tension, it was making the air in the limousine feel stuffy. So koko just side eyed you while looking you up and down, from your cleavage that he could see through your open white button down dior shirt and the VS black bra, down to your chubby tummy that was visible through your tight and long black Mugler pencil skirt to your soft and squishy thighs wrapped in nice black back seam tights. And those beautiful red bottom Louboutins, he actually bought them for you on your birthday.

You noticed koko watching you. He always thought you didn't notice, but you obviously did. Truth be told..

You wanted to be more than friends with him.

Especially since there was always a quiet pause between you two where you could feel the sexual tension. And you were afraid that if you didn't fuck at least once..you two could drive away from eachother..

And that stare was the last straw for you. You just had to turn to him. You got a little closer than normal and said a little. "Hey." Like you were asking something. And it obviously took koko off guard. "H-hey?" He asked, confused and flustered. You were bending your upper body a bit, giving him an even better view of your tits and the pretty bra. It was making him feel hot all of a sudden.

"Can I ask you something weird?" You whispered, still leaning over to him, so close that he could smell the alcohol on your tongue. "Sure, go ahead, I guess.." he responded, still confused and filled with anticipation, deep down he hoped that you would ask him to fuck you. "Okay.." you said, taking another sip of your drink before asking.

"Have you ever thought about me sucking you off?"

Koko's grip on his glass, and the leather seats tightened that he almost ripped a hole into the expensive fabric. He was quiet for a second, knowing his face looked like he was lacking oxygen. Because he was. He didn't notice he was holding in his breath until he decided to laugh it off out of nervousness he wasnt good with women or even men. He's just a little awkward when it comes to intimacy, even when he really, really wants it. Like right now. "What??"

But as he laughed and you just kept smiling at him with that 'fuck me' look in your eyes, his palms started to get sweaty. "You know what I asked. C'mon, " you said, clearly. You knew you didn't need to repeat it. "Have you?"

Koko didn't know if this was one of your weird teasing jokes..if he said the wrong thing he'd be fucked. Not in the way he wants to be anyway..

"Uhm.." he laughed again nervously. "Is this a joke?" He asked with a suspicious expression. He wanted to be sure.

You just quietly shook your head. "No, I'm just curious." You said with an unreadable smile. Koko hated when he couldn't tell what other people were thinking. Especially when he couldn't tell what you were thinking.

Koko swallowed and looked to the side nervously until your voice made him look at you again "then I'll tell you something first.."

"I thought about it." You said boldly.

That line definitely stopped kokos heart for a second. He started shaking and sweating.

Right after you said it, you closed the small window that let the driver see you two. Koko started breathing a little heavier. Are you actually trying to suck his dick??

"And?" You started, "What about you?"

Koko actually started to relax a bit hearing you confess. Having closure is all he needed to gain a little confidence. He felt your long nails trace his thigh over his dress pants, drawing dangerously close to his crotch.

He gulped and looked from his lap back up at you, being almost on his lap.

"Yeah.." he responded. "I did."

A smirk started stretching your pretty and lipgloss covered lips. "Want me to do it?" You asked, just above a whisper. Staring at koko like his dick was already between your lips.

Fuck he was sweating so much now, of course he wants it! But he just couldn't get any words out.

He coughed and nodded with closed eyes. "I need a verbal answer." You said, tracing your middle finger over the big golden chanel belt buckle. "S-sure—yes! Please.." he stuttered.

You smiled and kissed your best friend on the cheek, and he let out a frustrated and needy sigh. You've never seen koko being flustered. You only knew him being cocky, confident, and...cunty. so seeing him being so stuttery and nervous is refreshing.

Once you put your hand on his buckle, starting to unbuckle it while placing wet and sticky kisses on the sensitive skin of kokos neck. He surprisingly let out little moans and sighs.

The belt was open, and you unzipped his pants, wasting no time to slide your hand into his pants and boxers, immediately you found his hard cock. You gasped softly at the warmth, hardness, and most of all: lenght.

You never actually saw each other naked. Ever. He only saw you when you wanted to try on your new Victoria secret underwear, and that was also the only thing koko ever jerked off to. He never wanted to think of it, but his own mind betrayed him every time.

"Fuck—that feels..really fuckin' good.." he huffed, you barely even stroked him, but you weren't judging..you know he hadn't had a date since last year January when he met a cute guy at a party..and it was March now.

You continued stroking him as you pressed your tits against his chest. You looked up at Koko's face to see him already flushed a pretty deep pink. You wanted to kiss him until he couldn't even breathe properly. But you weren't sure if this was something he wanted as he could find kissing too romantic. "Wanna kiss?" Koko chuckled in response before just kissing you. It didn't even start of slow, because neither of you wanted that.

You just wanted to feel eachothers warmth. While kissing, you started pulling his pants now to his ankles, breaking the kiss in the process and lowering yourself along with the pants.

You put your hand on his chest to make him lean back into the leather seat while you kissed his bare thigh as his cock was right next to your face.

Finally seeing you like this was more than satisfying to koko, it was all he fucking wanted all this time. "You look so fuckin' beautiful.." you smiled but said nothing back, you just wanted his long and pretty cock in your throat.

As soon as you started kissing up his cock he tipped his head back "shit—oh my fucking.." he trailed off as he started moaning. His moans were pure music to your ears, and it just egged you on to suck the soul out of him.

You put your lips on the tip of his cock and he started twitching, "o-oh fuck—" he cursed again. You found it so cute how he already mindlessly babbled. You darted your tongue out and sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth with your tongue flat on the backside of his cock. You then slowly, slowly lowered your mouth on his cock until you reached his balls and his tip was in the back of your throat.

Koko felt like he was gonna faint, his hips stayed flexed, and an inch above the limo seat. His hand was in your hair involuntarily, he just needed to hold onto something or he would lose his fucking mind.

Then, all of a sudden you started to Bob your head up and down on his throbbing cock, making koko slap his hand infront of his mouth to cover up his loud and pathetic moans. But it was no use, and he knew it, but it was more so that the driver couldn't hear what a horny slut kokonoi Hajime was.

"Mhpff!—" he moaned against his hand. He had already started to drool against it. He was disgusting, but he felt good, free even. Giving you full control over him made him feel at ease, koko did have a busy life where he had to control everything, but having someone control him and his pleasure made him feel relaxed.

"Good boy.." you hummed before you started to stuff his long cock back into your throat. Kokos' eyes widened, and he scratched at the seat. At this point the didn't give a single fuck about the expensive leather because what you just called flipped a switch in his brain and he just moved his hand from his mouth, it was all shiny from his own spit

"m-may I—shit!.." he began. "may I call you mistress?" He asked, and suddenly you felt yourself getting to the point of being as horny as koko.. you truly did not expect this.. and you think neither would have koko.

You pulled off of his pulsing cock to look up at him and use your middlefinger to wipe away some if his precum from your lips. You would die to have him call you that, and you would kill to have him as your slut.

"You may.." you said with a sultry smile as you continued to jerk him off. "Tha-thank you.." then you squeezed his cock as a warning "who are you thanking?" You asked as you stopped jerking him off and just having a tight grip on him, before he could correct himself you got lower and started sucking one of his balls into your mouth. Making Koko's head fly back onto the seat rest and his eyes roll back. "I—" he struggled to catch his breath and choked on his spit for a second. "Thank you, mistress!"

"There we go.. Remember that for next time, " you said with a knowing smirk. Koko looked back at you, and you saw that he already had small tears in the corners of his eyes. He looked so cute..

Koko bit his bottom lip to stiffle his breathless moans. "Y-yes..Mistress," his mind went racing at the thought of a next time... God, he wanted you to do horrible things to him. He wanted to see you in a matching latex bra and thong set. He wanted you to tie and gag him. He wanted you to just fucking use him. Peg him! Ride his face 'til he can't breathe! He will fucking beg for it! The once reserved and cocky koko was now nothing more than a desperate slut.

As you continued to suck on his cock your other hand went up to feel up his chest to then reach his lips, koko immediately just started sucking on them as if it was in his DNA to obey you.

Koko grabbed your hand and swirled his tongue around your digits as your head kept bobbing up and down, koko pressed his hips up from the seat, and his eyes rolled back behind his closed eyes as he started sucking your fingers more desperately.

The feeling of him throbbing and twitching in your throat while his wet and warm tongue swirled around your manicured fingers made you so wet, you knew that your tights were also soaked through. You've never felt as horny as you did in the very moment. The rush of sucking your friends dick in a moving vehicle, not knowing if the driver can hear you. and the fact that koko would literally whore himself out for you,

"M-mhh!—" he moaned loudly around your fingers. He was about to cum..and youwere going to swallow every single drop.

Koko shivered and thrashed around. His grip on your hand tightened as his hips started to rit back into your throat. You hollowed your cheeks, and koko suddenly came with choked and loud moans. With every moan, he started to relax more and more.

The bitter and salty cum shot into your mouth and you moaned at the taste of his hot cum, it drove you wild..

Koko sighed one last time, and you took your fingers out of his mouth. He looked down at you, hair messy, lip makeup smeared with spit and cum.

His mind was so clouded by lust and the after shock of a life changing orgasm that he didn't realize where his cum was. Until he heard a gulp, and you licked your lips. "fuck—did you just..swallow it?.." he asked and you just got up to lay your chest on his and he winced a bit at his cock meeting your skirt.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and your kissed him, his tongue swirled around yours and he sighed at the taste of champagne and his cum.

You then looked at him with a soft smile. "You did good.." You kissed him again. "Y-you did good..you did really good.." koko complimented you back.

After a few seconds of just staring after each other, koko asked "so..you said next time.."

You grinned and picked out a long, pretty strand of his hair to swirl it around your finger. "Yeah, I did.. Would you like that?" Koko blinked away some of the remaining tears and nodded "yeah..sure.."

"Then how about you return the favor while we watch movies?" Koko's eyes widened assist cock twitched slightly against you, it's crazy how he's still hard..this never happened before. "Y-yeah,I'd love to," you jokingly hit him on his arm. "Don't go soft on me now. On the way home, we'll still only be besties, alright?" You said while sitting up and wiping your skirt and face clean with some tissues you had in your black dior purse, you handed some to koko and as he wiped his cock clean, you took a tissue and wiped his face clean.

It took him by surprise. He looked up at you, and you smiled. "You still have so much spit and lipgloss on your face, hun"

After you two were done wiping everything, you straightened your clothes out, and you sat back down next to him. If you didn't know that, you just sucked the soul out of his dick. It would look like you two were just friends.

But then you put your hand on his thigh,

You two knew his couch would need to be replaced after fucking it up with multiple cum, sweat and saliva stains.

[birdsareblooming]

im so tired of having to defend myself on both sides

like. ok. i'm queer right. bi, demigender, aro, etc. also you know a girl, demi or not. all the time i have to defend myself from american christians who via mistranslations and misinterpretations spread by horrible leaders for generations have been led into a cult-like hierarchy that tells them to hate me when hate for us isn't in their book or supposed to be in their ways.

i'm also "christian". i hesitate to use the full term because of how bad american christianity has gotten. but i believe in the same god nontheless. every day i feel i have to defend myself from queer people as well

like. i so get it. as i have just established american and european christianity has gotten so fucked up and literally off-script that i'm shocked we haven't gotten another 95 thesis and a completely new branch. it's awful horrible and people who believe in such ideas should not be in power. to the point where calling myself a christian feels wrong. at least in america.

i need ya'll to have some nuance.

firstly the understanding that those who hate queer people, non-white people in any form, women, whatever else. isn't even in the text they follow. people have misused it since it was written. preaching just the verse saying wives should care for their husbands and not the one right after saying husbands should love their wives. taking out verses referring to god's "womb." about adam might not even being a man, as in, more likely nonbinary, the verse about david getting an errection when hugging johnathan. changing verses about cleanliness into women and men not wearing the same cloths. changing verses about cultural codes and allowing a world where people have to resort to prositution into verses condemning homosexuality. [X]

like. you know the matrix. was written as a trans metaphor. then a bunch of alpha sigma grindset rich white boys took it and appropriated it, misinterpreted it, used it to boost themselves and hurt women. it's like that. those people don't make the matrix a bad movie, they just don't know it's a trans metaphor. and trans people who enjoy the matrix are like. normal and cool.

as you can see i am passionate about this. i have all this stuff memorized not only to defend my queerness but my christianity as im doing now.

there are queer christians. there are certainly poc christians as right now, south america and south africa have the highest christian populations, to the point where they're sending missionaries to america.

again i'm asking for some nuance. when i see posts basically saying "the christian god is dumb" or "satan was right actually" and blantent misinformation about what the bible says. like those kind of posts hurt my heart. my god made me queer and loves me for it, i believe in a kind god, most good christians do. i feel like other religions don't get this treatment and it's just to spiritually piss off your catholic parents.

speaking of, in doing so you seem to forget about other abrahamic religions.

i once saw a post criticizing something directly from the old testament, out of context of course. saying god was cruel and the belives were flawed and all this due to one verse. people tend to forget, or not know, that the "old testament" is the tenoch. slightly different book order, same writings.

christians, muslims, jewish people, worship the same god. different names for god, some god, same base. if you make jokes about christianty willy-nilly, you're going to accidentally hit someone else. and even if you don't, you may hurt someone still.

it doesn't hurt because i think it's "sacrilegious" or i think you're going to hell. it hurts because my community doesn't care. my community doesn't see the nuance in people and decided a specific religion is the enemy. a specific group of people is the enemy. ive been marked as the enemy

it's casual jokes to you, to me it's making fun of my god

listen, by all means make fun of the assholes. i make fun of them every day. millionaires who use privet jets than preach and love to overlook the many verses condemning the rich and saying rich people don't go to heaven. people saying that as a woman of god you shouldn't enjoy sex. weirdos online and irl that seem to think patorizing random people will get them to church. dumb white people. it's great. fuckn. mormons and jehovah's witness leaders who are straight up running a cult based on a thread of the original intention. and it's funny because they're the assholes.

but don't attack the base religion itself. understand that the religion isn't inherently harmful, certain branches, beliefs, misinterpretations, and leaders certainly are. but please be kind to the people who are normal

before you make a post saying you're gonna. i dont know 'kill the uncaring god' that you're hurting people like me, any abrahamic religion, anyone who believes in a god possibly. also that's basically my parent, it's like you're insulting my awesome mom to my face bc my older sibling sucks. like thats just mean to her for no reason.

i'm just. tired. im stuck in the middle and i hate that i have to make this post because like. this is my home and my people and im tired of seeing this shit from my peers and family. just. have nuance. care about people. don't just say shit about a religion if you don't know its true.

im tired.

[bapydemonprincess]

Poetry

Prince Soma knows he is gifted in many things these English boys are just learning. From Maths to History, to Cricket and Latin, to painting portraits and learning various instruments.

But being in the Scarlet Fox House also means unique separate assignments via the House Master.

And this time their House Master has insisted:

"I want all of you to write the most romantic poem you can, from your own words! Your own heart and soul! No cheating and copying anyone famous, now."

And this is one thing the Prince finds himself stuck on.

He certainly didn't mind all the lovely romantic stories and poetry so far that the housemaster assigned, but...

Having to make up his own poem about something romantic??

He just.. doesn't get it.

A big thing Soma assumes is maybe there is a language issue. Do English consider romance that important? Do they define it differently here??

Soma knows most of his fellow House mates, especially Redmond and Maurice, but he has a feeling they both might be too busy these days to help him.

And the House Master himself is a good fellow, fun and amusing to listen to. He keeps Soma at attention very well!

But...

"Oh, what is there not to get, Your Majesty?? It is ROMANCE! It is what everyone, man and woman, eventually find! One day YOU will join one of those lucky sorts, especially with your culture back home, I'm sure, and become a KING with a QUEEN!"

....

Soma needs to find someone else to help him with this. There has to be someone.. maybe in another House??

He... is terrified of going near Violet Wolf House. He would only go to those guys in the most desperate of times!!

He knows damn well there's a reason Green Lion House doesn't have anything to do with poetry...

And finally he finds himself at Sapphire Owl House.

And almost is tempted to even try Ciel for a question even if he knows that boy likely doesn't care about anything romantic.

When suddenly Ciel's butler is coming around a corner!

A strange noise leaves the Prince and he is frozen, unable to take another step forward.

And "Mister Michaelis" also stops just after he'd come around the corner, staring right back.

"...Prince? Whatever are you-"

"I-I GOT LOST, I'M SORRY, I'LL-"

Suddenly he's in front of him, hand pressing to the Prince's mouth.

"Prince, stop yelling, your majesty, it's too early still for such theatrics."

The sweat drenched prince nods in agreement.

And Sebastian cautiously removes his hand.

"Now, why are you here? If you are looking for young m- ah, Phantomhive, he is doing class work at the moment."

"Well, um, I..."

Soma screams at himself WHY IS HE BOTHERING, JUST GO MAKE UP ANYTHING FOR THE POEM AND TURN IT IN.

"I was.. wondering if.. you could help me with.. an assignment...?"

"Hmm? Whyever me? I am the Blue House Master, not the Red-"

"BUT THIS ASSIGNMENT WAS CONFUSING AND NOBODY IN MY DORM GETS WHY, THEY THINK IT'S BECAUSE I'M NOT FROM HERE, BUT-"

"Prince you are yelling again.."

"Augh, I'm sorry- I'm sorry I'm just so frustrated, I thought I could handle poetry and I have so far, but this.."

"What is it they want?"

The Prince bows his head, as if ashamed, and shuts his eyes tight as if he cannot bare to see the reaction to his next words.

"I need to write a poem.. about.. romance. Something.. romantic."

....

Everything is so quite. So quite the prince almost fears Sebastian left.

But he finally does look up...

And sees...

The butler looking deep in thought.

He is looking away over at the glass windows, eyes away into space. Thoughtful about this.

His eyebrows even go down.

...Confused??

"Hmm, well, the idea of "romance" is a very common topic when it comes to poetry. Especially here, for the English have so loved to romanticize even the most ghastly unromantic things..."

Soma is confused again.

"What?"

Is all he can say.

The butler lets out one of his rare chuckles, and smiles back down at the prince.

"Romance is not originally about love, your majesty. No matter what these h- ahem, English men try to put in your mind. Romance is a concept, indeed that humanity has thought of, but it has been used to describe so much more than the concept of falling in love."

".....Huh??"

Is again all the prince can answer with.

"Prince Soma, remember the day you first came here to Britain. What was that first excursion like? Do you recall how you felt?"

"....It.. was snowing when Agni and I finally took to the streets. I.. I was finally able to see snow for the first time."

Soma started to smile.

"It was so beautiful, in the dark of night, seeing this soft white stuff cover roofs and streets, while street lights glowed brightly. The way it was so small, but there was so much of it. Softer than sand! Lovelier! Prettier! And then we saw how everyone reacted to it. Children and mothers running briskly along. Horse drivers rushing to go faster to get to their destinations. The guffs of air from the people's mouths and from even the horses snorting and whinnying. And-"

Sebastian hand his hands gently on the boys shoulders.

"That, Prince Soma, is romantic."

The prince's eyes blew open wide.

"The joy of your first experience seeing snow. A moment that only happened once. You can never experience that same exact feeling ever again. It is a beautiful moment. Only for you. it is yours. That is the true concept of romanticism."

"I- I..."

Soma pushed the butler's hands off him at once.

"I MUST GO WRITE!!! THAT- THAT ISN'T THE ONLY MOMENT- I MUST GO DESCRIBE SO MUCH MORE!!!"

Sebastian smiled and waved.

"Enjoy your writing, your majesty," He called.

And the prince practically fell over, trying to stop himself.

To turn back and wave wildly to Ciel's Butler and grin.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!"

And Sebastian just smiled wider.

The poetry reading turned out brilliaintly.

In fact.. it seemed to go even better than Soma imagined.

He'd doubted all the way that his writing would meet up to the House Master's expectations, given what the man had been going on about regarding what he thought romance was.

But next thing the Prince knew, after his reading...

He was facing an entire classroom of crying, sobbing young men, as well as the House Master himself.

"BRAVO, Kadar, BRAVO!!" the House Master gushed, and stood from his desk to give a standing ovation.

And the other boys followed suit!

... Well, Maurice stayed sitting, arms crossed, refusing to look forward even though Soma HAD definitely seen tears escaping down his cheeks... in the color of his eye make up, no less...

And Soma grinned.

Yeah, this school sure was fun!

[your--isgayrights]

Seeing your answered ask about metas makes me want to share this list someone made about ORV’s literary references: https://twitter.com/Jomeimei421/status/1806147303004336632

I think this same person also said something about ORV being a blend of low-brow fiction and high-brow literature and I agree. I would like to see a legitimate academic paper referencing or breaking down ORV, and now that I think about it, maybe this has already happened and I just don’t know how to find something like that.

This list is honestly such a great resource, thanks for sharing :)))) <3333

I would add the samguk yusa and samguk sagi to this list tho, even though the references might count as 'myths' or an oral tradition that's the nature of the older historical texts. I think I have a couple breakdowns of the references to the Samguk yusa, a post about ljh's name and the historical ancestors referenced, and some stuff about JttW.

In the concept of high brow and low brow, I agree that ORV is very good at being like very respectful of anything that is a 'story' and I think good at portraying the sort of 'character' that some genres or reading types represent. I think one of my posts is definitely about how the KDJ relationship with his mom is very representative of the sort of evolution of webnovel culture out of classical literature and trauma literature scenes in the sort of 'professional,' established Korean publishing. Also as a Naruto guy I really respect the JttW arc for being like 'hey all middle grade action stories and shounen a little bit comes from JttW tbh.' I also think the premise of ORV is great as sort of the natural conclusion to like American gods or Rick Riordan type justifications for all religions being true bc people believe them: ok, then here's also one man's favorite anime boy being real because he believes in him and he's actually going to punch God now. Oh also a literary reference I guess is that metatron and etc are from the Talmud rabbinic scriptures. Though I think myths about him are mostly from kabbala / oral tradition (which stems from Judaism but even now there are Jewish people who think it's very wrong to call them Jewish beliefs. Part of that is probably that in more modern history kabbala has partially been developed and sort of appropriated by non-jewish people in a way that is kind of similar to orientalizing / mysticizing the more 'normal' Judaic beliefs practiced by wider Jewish communities ((think tiktokkers who are like I Am a Witch doinG Qabala but actually she's basically just writing creepypasta in her brain about things other people actually believe in that she knows nothing about)). At the same time, there is kabbala that naturally developed from people Jewish faith in the same way orphism or other 'occult' beliefs developed out of governmentally/societally enforced/accepted Greek and Roman religions throughout history. Fun fact: Sefer ha-bahir is apparently an influential text in the development of og kabbala and apparently literally describes the idea of transmigration so that is fun.)

Ok besides the historical stuff the media on the list I'm actually exposed to is just Han Kang and then Naruto (I watched some of one piece in middle school but retained very little of it tbh I just know who some of the guys are. Actually I just had a dream where I complimented a guy's one piece shirt and then he asked me if I liked the anime and I had to be like oh... No).

I did some research on YSA's reading 'taste' though and I think it's very fitting because they're realistic books with "literary value" that are like very relevant to society but obscure enough that you wouldn't make up reading them just to impress someone, unlike Han Myungoh claiming 'art of war' is his fave book (that's another lit reference in there somewhere I think? I just remember finding it fitting... It's the type of fit for business men who want to seem macho and smart but actually don't enjoy reading at all... I would say if they said three kingdoms was their favorite I would at least believe they read it or saw an adaptation but like art of war just isn't really a Story it's more like self help? Like there are stories but they're showing 'lessons' about war lol.)

[penroseparticle]

irreplaceable rant? to the left to the left

My irreplaceable rant is essentially:

When Beyonce wrote Irreplaceable it was like a giant stepping on an ant. Even in 06 she was shaping up to be a Juggernaut. B'Day launched at number 1 I believe? She was blowing up. Well established, producing bop after bop after banger after banger. And We bought Irreplaceable because we, fully, were on board. Beyonce COULD have another you in a minute. The mythos of Beyonce was taking shape. She was Beyonce, you were some guy. To the left.

When she wrote Lemonade it was like. Oh there are stakes now because whether you think Jay Z is great or not or a garbage dude or whatever, he's at least closer to her level than just "some guy".

Like. Of course she could have another you in a minute if you were some dude. But could she have another Jay Z in a minute? No, categorically she could not, and to say otherwise is to tell yourself fun lies because you hate cheaters or men or whatever. I am a firm believer that Beyonce is one of a kind and cannot be replicated in our lifetime as a cultural phenomenon, artist, creator, singer, you name it she is. incredible. But I'm also not going to pretend Jay Z wasn't in some ways just as singularly, powerfully monolithic with popculture just because most of this website understands rap less.

She writes the Sistine Chapel about him because like it or not, she wants to. She looks at him and sees things you could only dream of creating and I for one am just happy to be here, and could care less what you think about Beyonce's specialist boy who is the catalyst of some of the best music I've heard in the past decade, and also someone who MADE some of the best music I've heard in the past 20 years as well.

Beyonce's first solo recording was 03 Bonnie and Clyde, btw. As in, she was a feature on a Jay Z song before even releasing Dangerously in Love. Which. Also prominently has a Jay Z feature. In the lead single. That arguably launched Beyonce's career. Why would she ever write songs about the man who helped her launch her career that she has been married to for 16 years. A damn mystery.

And for the record, if she wanted to make the most beautiful art in the world about literal garbage, so the fuck what. We hate Duchamps The Fountain on this website now? Irving Penn spent years taking extremely detailed, well composed photos... of actual trash. Like Mud Glove. His photos were hanging in the Smithsonian a few years ago. Turns out beautiful art that says something, even something about trash? Still beautiful.

[uglydollyboy]

What do I feel for him¿ I get that question all the time so I decided to make a post about it. If you want, you can read it completely.

~Dennis Nilsen~

First of all, who is Dennis¿

Dennis Andrew Nilsen was a serial killer known as the Kindly Killer, The Muswell Hill Murderer and the Killer Of The Tie.

He murdered atleast 12 young men until 1983

He liked to be called "Des" by people and he worked as a police officer and a Civil Servant. He died in prison at the age of 72 years old in may 2018 in pain because of internal bleeding. He has a book, his autobiography "The History Of A Drowing Boy" and he has another book written by Brian Masters called "Killing For Company"

He had a dog named Bleep, who was put down after his arrest and he even had budgies named Hamish and Tweetles. And apparently he had a cat too called DD

I wanna clear out that I won't call him "Des" because I don't think he'll let me, or I even deserve to call him Des

Now that you have simple information, I'll put how he was.

Dennis was a very VERY romantic person. If you analize who he was by reading his book and seeing his views on some things and more, you'll notice that he was a romantic, profound, poetic, gentle and unique man. Not to mention handsome as well

He used to love music, cinema and arts. He loved the movie Psycho, loved classical music and loved a painting called "The Raft Of The Medusa"

He was a very intelligent man¡ He was very smart, he had a lot of culture in different stuff. He was a gentle and loving man because of how he acted with the bodies.

Dennis would keep the bodies and the difference with Jeff Dahmer was that Dennis would sleep, dress up, undress and even talk to the bodies. One of his victims had suicide marks on his wrists, and after getting killed by Dennis, one of the things Nilsen thought was that nobody was able to hurt him anymore.

Dennis NEVER had sex with a dead body, the only thing he did was please himself without even touching the body.

Dennis was (you can confirm this by many documentaries) known as a boring guy who had no social life and if he had an idea, he would repeat it over and over and over again.

His views are so profound and so beautiful, changes your point of view on that specific thing immediately

Now that you know that, Let's talk about my twitter.

I used to think that he was just another serial killer and that's it. How stupid I was...

He became the love of my life after I find out who he actually was thanks to someone in twitter, but by the time I find out who he was I was already in a shit position.

I made fun of him and I even talked about how I wanted to fuck him, which made that person in Twitter kinda hate me for all of those ridiculous things I said and posted about.

It was too late, I was stupid enough to disrespect who he was. It's okay to make jokes about him, but not the way I did. What I did is unforgivable.

Now with that out of the way. To finish this whole yap, This is how I feel.

I am in a very deep love with Dennis Nilsen. You did not get it wrong. I'm in love with a serial killer.

I'm in love with a serial killer. Did I cross the line there¿

He is a big part of me, I never felt such deep love and affection for someone, it might seem fake what I say, no need to remind me.

But believe me please, I feel so bad for what I did, making fun of him and more. Please... I'm deeply sorry for that.

I'm so fucking stupid for thinking that he was just one more serial killer. You have no idea how guilty and bad I feel for not sending him just one letter.

If I just knew him before... the letters I would've sent... I cry and wish every night to dream with him but It doesn't work. NOTHING WORKS. Even hugging my pillow every single night

I'm so fucking stressed about this, mostly with the fact that he would hate me if he was alive. I am not a biological boy with blonde straight hair and blue eyes, doll looking and with a lot of culture in music and cinema

I'm an ugly person who thinks he is a boy. I would SACRIFICE, I want to sacrifice who I am just for him to like me as a person or friend atleast.

I keep suffering for a dead man that would never like me no matter how much I change, how much I try. He will never like me as much as he would like Zeynep.

I try and try and try to get into his things. But still, that won't make me a better person.

If I could just see him one more time, That's enough for me. Hearing his voice one more time it's enough as well.

He would think I'm such a cry baby and a loser for the things I feel. But atleast he has an opinion of me.

I'm desperate to get something of him, just to feel like he is here again. I have lots of pictures of him in my room, all put around my bed and wall, thinking that he is listening to me talking or doing something else. But reality is that... No. He is not here.

My eyes are swollen from crying last night and my voice is shit for screaming how much I love him all the time. If I just knew him before, I would've sent all those letters I have. Even if he didn't reply to them, atleast I sent them to him, right¿

I know that he hates me, no need to remind me. But I still can't help the fact that I adore him with all my heart. All my friends and family are TIRED of me saying how much I love him.

I... I just want him to read my letters, see me and tell me what he thinks of me. But that's not possible anymore.

I'm currently crying while writing this, sorry Dennis because I'm such a cry baby and a loser.

I spoke to my psychologist about Dennis because I'm confused, I don't know if my love for him is good or bad, so she told me to make a list with good and bad things about loving him. Currently I keep doing that list

I'll keep updating this probably until I'm satisfied, one more time. I'm sorry for all the things I did and said about him, I'm sorry if I annoy you all the time. I understand if you don't wanna be friends with me.

If you reached this part, woah, thank you for reading. I love you

[ehlnofay]

I have been thinking about Nordic childhood traditions lately. As far as they go, I only found that young men in the Old Holds hunt ice wraiths in the dead of winter as a claim to full status as citizens, and that Nordic names are chosen based on omens and given in a special ceremony when a child is young. I'm interested in your thoughts on the childhood traditions of the Nords. Would they differ from hold to hold? How different would they be in a more cosmopolitan hold like the Reach compared to one of the Old Holds where the Old Ways still thrive, such as Dawnstar? Would traditions be different between young boys and young girls? What if a child were to grow up sheltered? What would they be missing out on during their childhood?

hmm, interesting question… I think most ritualised traditions pertaining to childhood are about growth and moving from one state to another, so your question is making me think mostly about coming-of-age traditions. the ice wraith thing is obviously an example of this, but not one that would be super accessible in most of skyrim, and though I can imagine it still being practised in some communities I imagine others might consider it archaic (the source for that one dates to the second era iirc, so definitely not a contemporary observation!) I wonder what other kinds of practices might stand in its place… skyrim is harsh country and socio-culturally speaking I think nords value both knowing the land and how to manage it and protecting the hearth and home. durability and community are prized and rites of passage into adulthood would need to exemplify these ideals. I’ll keep pondering this… might be fun to try to figure out what these traditions might be

(I do imagine that there are visual changes before and after earning adulthood – there are probably garments that only children wear and vice versa. and I don’t think people begin to braid and decorate their beards until they’ve recognised as an adult. they can have one beforehand, it just has to be boring. so beard care is often a point of pride)

and I DEFINITELY believe that there’s enormous variation between the traditions of different holds. not least because the environments that shape them are so different (the swamps of morthal prompt different ways of interacting with the world around you than the snow-clad pale or the mountains of the reach)… imperialisation is also a massive factor. skyrim as we see it in-game is so heavily influenced by the empire that despite the whole civil war occurring over Nord Lands and Nord Traditions and Nord Beliefs, there is exactly one character shown who gives a rat's ass about any of the old gods, or how they've been overwritten by cyrod interpretations. now I do think the game is just wrong about that and there are definitely more people who feel that way, but even so - one has to assume it's affected how traditional milestones and rites of passage are perceived and celebrated. religious traditions in particular would have had a hard time sticking around as skyrim became more used to the imperial pantheon. cities, being generally more cosmopolitan, more crowded, more imperialised, and kind of seen as separate from the land, are probably where these traditions have become rarest and altered the most (there isn't always the right cultural backdrop for them - there often just isn't space). they’re still there, just different.

(whether there’s any difference between the traditions of boys and girls – I honestly don’t know what to think! tes is in such a weird place gender-wise because it feels like the writers tried to create a world without sexism, or at least in which it was negligible, but then did exactly zero reflection on what the ramifications of that would be on anything ever. I can’t really tell if the social roles there might be different, or how, because the game never says that the roles are different but it also never really challenges player expectations either. so I respectfully bow out of answering that one because it confuses me)

[gothicprep]

some interesting twitter discussion i encountered today, piggybacking off a tiktok screenshot of an either late-teens girl or early 20-something woman saying "i wish i could be friends with boys the way that boys are friends with boys". the guy side of twitter chimes in, basically saying that whenever they had women express this to them, they reacted poorly to stuff that's pretty common in guy group friendships. the woman side of twitter is screenshotting these and saying shit like "ack, for all this talk of male loneliness, isn't it interesting how these guys talk about friendship in a way that's antisocial and boorish!"

it's always really something to see conversations like this happen, because it's a very clear expression of someone not being familiar with the social nuances in a setting they haven't really spent time in. and on top of that, it being so alien to them that they don't even realize they're wearing this lack of experience on their sleeve.

this is hard to put into words and there are probably a few things i'm missing here, but in my experiences of being the only woman in a friend group, Guys Being Dudes social culture involves a lot of giving each other shit, but not in a way that's mean. it's more like a signal that indicates you being a part of the same group. it's not like there aren't any generic insults that fly like "hey, you dipshit", but what's more common are insults that show you're paying attention – "hey, you dipshit that's always tripping over because you don't know how to tie your own shoes." it shows you actually notice what that person is like lol. and that person has the right to come back at you, and it's kind of a give and take. it's a game. there are bad dynamics that can sometimes come out of this, where someone is picking on someone else too much and there are awkward dominance displays going on. but for the most part, it's mostly just clowning around.

and – not always, obviously – this stuff drives a lot of women nuts. and as you get older, you move away from acting like this around people who will be bothered with it, because out of the context of a friend group, it's rude. but "we give each other shit for fun, and that's how we know that we're friends" has a lot of connecting power under the right circumstances.

there's a scene in "jackass: forever" where jason acuna is staked to the ground and a vulture is picking cuts of meat off his body, and the bird pecks him and he starts spasming and kicking (it's been known to happen when you get pecked by a bird with a giant beak). and one of the guys off screen is like, "don't kick the bird, dude" and acuna says, "i'm not kicking the bird!" but he's mad that someone would suggests that he would kick the bird. he understands that the bird is an outsider. the bird isn't in on the joke! nobody wants to be mean to the bird here. it's all about what's happening to acuna. this is obviously a pretty extreme version of the thing i'm talking about but, eh, it works for my purposes.

and it's not like it stays this juvenile forever. you grow up. life happens. but having this foundation in a friend group of 5+ doesn't prevent you from talking about life stuff together. even if this type of camaraderie doesn't make a lot of sense to you on the surface, that doesn't mean it's not tried and true. and, tbh, i get the sense that a lot of the men who struggle with pervasive feelings of loneliness probably *aren't* part of a group dynamic like this.

[demigod-of-the-agni]

NOTE: this is an old draft that does not reflect my current ideas but I liked the thoughts behind it so I'm posting it anyway. You can find my new updated thoughts here.

If Pavitr had to have a job/role from the FFXIV universe, he'd be a dark knight.

Like yes he's going to be a part of the emo edgelord gang and wield a big, grim-looking sword. He's going to be dressed in black, pointy armour and everything, be all moody and foreboding and lonely and covered in blood and absolutely livid and drenched in gore and viscera and the miasma of suffering. He's dressed in the skin of a killer.

Agni, that doesn't sound like it'd fit Pavitr. He's a kind guy so he'd probably be a healer!! He's cracking jokes!! He's so friendly!! He's lovely and he gets along with everyone!! Why would he be a dark knight?

In the context of what ATSV has built up regarding the Spider Society/mentors, as well as drawing upon how Indian culture approaches mental health, I genuinely think the dark knight job matches Pavitr to a tee. Lemme break it down for you [break dances].

SPOILERS for the DARK KNIGHT QUESTS.

The dark knight job is... if "with great power, there must also come great responsibility" delighted to get its hands bloody. It's a tank job, meaning at its very core its about protecting the party no matter the costs, and "no matter the costs" is pretty big for the dark knight specifically, because it means you have to dig deep for the darkness that lies within every heart and soul.

And like all Spider-Men, Pavitr is riddled with darkness — drowning in guilt, his regrets (losing Bhim Uncle, a father figure, a mentor), and after what went down in ATSV, with the collider and Mumbattan falling apart? Suddenly there's a lot of fear thrown into the mix, if whether he'll be able to do his job of protecting. If he's even good at it; after all, he was too busy having fun and being carefree to handle the Spot. He was called in as backup, he was called in to provide support, he was called in to help others but he failed.

He is the blade of virtue and righteousness. He is to sever the threads of evil, to cut wrongdoers down before they even have a chance to strike.

And one night, there's a little blood on his hands. Just a little, not enough to soak his entire fist, but it's enough to stain the ground an ugly red.

And at first Pavitr is horrified — Spider-Man was never supposed to go this far. He was not supposed to kill. Spider-Man never kills. (But he's the blade of virtue and righteousness. Blades are very good at killing.)

Conflicting emotions keep him from really finding help — Spider Society, and its twisted perception of mentors? Miguel's strict code and Peter B.'s nonchalance don't make good foundations for seeking help. And while Jessica is by far the most suitable adult there to actually provide support, Pavitr never gives her the chance, because Indian boys don't have problems. Their issues are theirs to handle on their own, because they're men, they're independent, and any showcase of vulnerability is a sign of weakness. It means you are crippled and you are worthless and you are undeserving of others.

And so Pavitr is left to stew in his own madness. He doesn't divulge any of his miseries, his sorrows, his fears, he doesn't say anything to the bruises on his fists or the metallic pang of steel that follows him everywhere. He hides it with a smile, of course, because Indian boys look nicer when they smile, are pleasant and approachable and are a sign that they have been raised right. Pavitr's a nice boy, the aunties say amongst themselves. He'll grow up a right young man and help the world in many ways.

But with every outing as a hero, Pavitr comes back feeling like a fraud. He's a murderer, an unanchored soul who can't keep up with his body, a dulled blade who gifts suffering instead of a quick demise. It's also then, when he's balancing on the knife's edge of darkness, that he finds the dead knight in the shadows of Mumbattan's abandoned foundational infrastructure.

Pavitr has been finding many dead folk recently — which is no surprise, death follows him wherever he goes — but he's surprised to see the knight come back to life, 'claiming his mortal wounds were nothing but a scratch. And the knight, oh, he knows Pavitr is hurting, is aching, is drenched in so much blood that he doesn't even know what to do with himself. And he offers his aid — one bloodied soul to another. I'll help you tame that darkness, the knight promises, I'll offer my blade so that you may become my pupil, a true blade of virtue and righteousness.

Pavitr can't say no to that.

[fruitsofhell]

I still think about this post I made anytime I see someone talk about Sephiroth Like That. It's still so weird to me, do people realize a character being designed to be hot doesn't automatically mean they're supposed to like… sex-y? With Kuja and Sephiroth I mean this as in their attractiveness is meant to be aesthetic more than sexual, it's like that shit Greta Gerwig was saying about Barbie to me.

I remember something that really struck me when I first played those two's respective games was the way their beauty was treated. I had never taken a game with bishounen characters seriously before, so there was a slight culture shock at how much aesthetic weight was put on them, especially combined with the angel motif in both their characters. Two interesting details about angels (archangels or guardian angels specifically) this brought up in my mind was 1) that traditionally these angels are meant to appear as incredibly attractive people, and 2) that they're traditionally portrayed as androgynous men. Which hey, they nailed those both on the head with their "One-Winged Angel" and "Angel of Death".

But with angels, that humanity and human attractiveness is kind of just a guise for a creature, ancient, divine, and terrifyingly powerful - sort of far beyond the actual functions of a human skin. So their attractiveness is not because they're sexy or sexual, but because its an aesthetic representation of that divinity - a way to make that appalling level of power more palatable and, attractive.

And I find that really fun and interesting, a lot in a gender way because, once again, angels traditionally being seen as masculine, and that sort of "sexy for no reason even if its a de-sexualized non-human being" is only ever an excuse for flaunting a feminine form and not a masculine. And I tell you boys, I am on my hands and knees scraping at the dirt everyday for representations of male beauty.

Which is why for Sephiroth and Kuja this was so striking to me. The way their designed beauty incidentally or purposefully invokes the beauty of angels is just so cool. They are characters not at all presented as having any sexuality of their own, but that It-Factor they got encompasses their character and how they are popularly perceived. Like what would Sephiroth be without his imposing form, long silky hair, and cat-like eyes? Or Kuja without his doll-like face and, well, everything else about him? But that beauty is not FOR us or the characters - it's attractive, even captivating, but venomous. Those mako eyes only hold emptiness, to then be set ablaze by an otherworldly, alien hatred; Kuja's lips only purse in a sadistic, callous grin before twisting into the tortured scowl of a disgraced angel willing to destroy creation out of spite.

And that cruel beauty is mesmerizing to players and a lot of what they're remembered for. Which once again was amazing to me cause they're guys and seeing men get that level of attention warms my cold bisexual heart, but also because MAN it ties in so well to their motifs. I straight up think you get less out of them by assuming that being designed to be hot and being a character with sexuality are synonymous. At least personally I am way more enamored with this dynamic of these beings made to catch our eyes (either narratively or meta-textually) in order to tease our senses and twist our hearts, as they move whole celestial bodies and crumble empires with a smile. I'm Just Obsessed.

[mmkin]

The Siren's Shark (Ch 5 - but this siren has some spice of her own)

yeah baby i'm on a roll here's another chapter, whee. Link to AO3.

Content warning - some smut, so 18+ but it's good smut, so hey.

V

o0o0o0o

Arlong sat back as Kuroobi made his report of the contents of the crates and boxes Yolande had brought onto the ship. He didn’t think his siren intended to harm him – that went against the bond they shared – but his nakama insisted on vigilance, and after what had happened with Nami, the ray fishman’s paranoia only increased.

"...Jars of fruit preserves or spices, but I also came across empty glass bottles and vials along with filled ones of various solutions. Some look like oils, others are powders. Various paraphernalia I would expect of a chemist." Kuroobi looked down at the piece of paper. "Some of these could be used against us if she so desired it."

“Hmm.” Arlong stared off with a thoughtful frown. She hadn’t asked for space on the ship, but then there was just enough room for her plants. It would be interesting to see what she could do if she had the room for a laboratory, but Kuroobi was right to be cautious. “Keep an eye on her,” he said, knowing the other fishman would be pleased, and relieved, to hear that.

o0o0o0o

Yolande wished she could have seen Flen’s face when Arlong collected the money from him. When the doctor proposed to her several months after Yoshi’s death, it wasn’t out of love, but pragmatism and loneliness. Not that there was anything wrong with pragmatism, and there were worse reasons to marry someone, but she did not relish the idea of sharing a life with the pompous man. At least she never had to see him or his nephew again.

As she came to the cabin, she glanced down at the table as she passed it. Several pieces of correspondence littered the surface, and she raised her eyebrows as she saw a list that was not in Arlong’s writing, or the former captain’s. Several lines down, and she realized this was a list of the inventory she had in the cargo bay. She looked up to see Arlong standing in the doorway, looking down at her. He realized what caught her attention, and gave her a level stare.

She tilted her head to the side as she gave him a pointed glance. He smirked at her challengingly. Hoo boy. The rough edges! She picked up the paper, reading through the rest of it. Kuroobi had missed a few things only because she’d hidden them well.

“Pretty thorough,” she muttered. “You don’t fuck around, do you?”

“There’s a different fucking I prefer to do.” His grin widened.

o0o0o0o

“Well… I suppose I can’t blame you. If I were the captain, I think I would have done the same. The only concern I have is that he handled my supplies carefully.” She set the list back down.

Arlong closed the door and approached her. "Kuroobi may be a warrior first, but he respects other professions. It does make me wonder what you are capable of producing if you had the space."

“Various things. Some medicines, if I know the chemical formula or plant extract. Antiseptics. Oils for perfumes or foods. Preserving or pickling produce. Often, what I make is based on what’s locally available or in demand.”

“Weaponry?” He saw her stiffen at that, but she didn’t say no. He smirked at that. “Fireworks, explosives?” he inquired with a small grin. Silence met him, and he grinned at her. “No need to be modest,” he said with a small laugh. This should be fun...

o0o0o0o

Over the last couple of weeks, she'd simply taken the time to familiarize herself with the ship and crew, and their captain. She'd gone from being a widow living with her stepdaughter to being the lover of a pirate captain and the only woman on a ship full of men. If there was one thing that could be said about past experiences, it was that it left her more prepared for the latest upheaval in her life.

Arlong was in many ways still an enigma to her. Open enough he was about his desire for her, and he was eager enough to lecture her on fishman history and culture, but when it came to the last decade of his life, he would clam up, or offer scant information and though no one had said it, it'd become apparent that the sharkman also told his crew to not talk about it, either.

It left her no less curious about whatever had happened to Arlong and his crew. She sat there in the bed, savoring the last few minutes of warmth she would have under the blankets with Arlong’s residual body heat before she got up for the day. As she did, she watched him take a bottle from a chest and decided that she wasn’t going to be silent again.

Arlong drank a lot. Powerful fishman he might be, that much alcohol would take its toll on him in due time. She called out his name softly, and he turned to her, his hand on the cork of the bottle.

“Do you really need to drink that?” she asked. He stared at her for a moment.

“Why do you ask?”

"I just… noticed that you drink a lot. In the morning, with lunch, after dinner..."

“What of it? You think to be like a scolding, nagging wife and forbidding me from drinking?” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes at that. “No, Arlong. I enjoy a good drink now and then. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned for you.”

He glanced at the bottle in his hand before looking at her again. Their gazes locked.

-Bitterness, hate, fear, wariness, shame, guilt, regret-

She held out her hand to him. He moved close, wrapping her hand in his large one as he stood at the side of the bed, looking down at her. "Such a sweet little siren," he rumbled as he let go of her hand and reached out to lift her chin. He was wearing a pair of pants but hadn't put on a shirt yet. She reached out to touch his chest.

“It’s easy to seek refuge in drugs or alcohol. I understand it,” she said softly. “But you don’t want it to become a crutch.” She wrapped her hands around his wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze and feeling his hand flex, fingers twitching against her chin. “Do you at least think you can wait until dinner? Save the drinking for when everyone is having fun tonight.”

“If I’m not having a drink this morning, what do I do then?” he challenged.

“Read a book? Play a game? Go for a swim?” she replied lightly. He snorted at that before a smirk spread across his face, and the grip under her chin tightened by a fraction.

“I see a pleasant distraction right here,” he purred hungrily. She slid her palms along his wrist and forearm, feeling the sharkskin. It was nothing like she’d ever felt before, and Arlong had made it clear through his physical responses if not his words how much he liked it when she ran her hands along him. Her hands trailed down to her elbow before circling back to his wrist. Sometimes it simply boggled her how thick his biceps were, or how large his hands were compared to her own.

"If it will help you feel better, Arlong." His hungry gaze did arouse her, but she also felt the instinct as his siren to soothe away his pain.

“Mmm. Good.” He started unbuttoning his pants. “Let’s see how you do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

She’d used her hands on him, just as he had for her, but she knew eventually the subject of oral pleasure would come up. Fine, she was willing to oblige, but she wouldn’t let him get in the habit of using her in any way he saw fit – at least not without reciprocation. She looked at his cocks, already semi-hard as he opened the front of his pants.

“That hardly seems fair,” she commented as she sat there on the bed. “After all, you have two of these. And I only have one of this…” She lifted the hem of the nightshirt, revealing a pair of striped panties. She was gratified to see his cocks twitch at that. “I doubt there’s a man alive – or dead – who would turn down the chance to receive some head. But I have needs, too.”

Arlong narrowed his eyes, staring down at her challengingly. She smirked back at him, refusing to back down. “Come now. Out of the two of us, I’d say I have more work to do in that department than you. Don’t I deserve pleasure, too?”

His lips stretched into a grin, and she felt a glimmer of uncertainty. Did she want these teeth at her snatch? Or his nose anywhere near that vicinity? Well… what was it they said? Fortune favors the bold�� though was this too bold?

Her heart thudded in anticipation as they stared at one another, his cocks out and throbbing, and her pussy aching at the sight of Arlong aroused for her.

“You think to give your captain orders?” he asked with a low growl. She nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact.

“Right now… you’re not my captain. You’re my sharkman. My mate.”

o0o0o0o

My sharkman. My mate. Her words echoed through Arlong’s mind as he looked down at her. Her wavy hair was rumpled from sleep and her nightshirt was old, many washings having caused its original colors to fade. But she still looked pretty damn fuckable. He noted that her nipples were poking against the material of her nightshirt.

With a soft growl, he reached down, tugging her panties off and tossing them to the floor, hearing her squeal of surprise. He grinned down at her.

"You asked for this, siren." With that, he pushed her back onto the bed so she was lying down before sliding a hand below her lower back, lifting her hips as her pajamas bunched below her breasts. It was quite a nice view, he mused to himself, the morning light casting a gentle glow on her as she lay there, open for him. With his other hand, he slid a finger and then another into her, hearing her sigh in pleasure as she wiggled around. She lifted her legs, draping them across his shoulders as he lowered his mouth, his nose resting lightly on her stomach.

He’d tasted her on his fingers, but the source was much sweeter. He growled into her as his tongue joined his fingers, and she let out a shuddering gasp. Grinning at this, he would growl into her at intervals, enjoying the effect the vibrations from his throat had on her.

"Arlong…" she groaned, wiggling her hips as he flicked his tongue across her clit. "Oh, fuck… please…" As he intensified his attention, she rocked her hips against his face, and he let out a few loud snarls, feeling her shudder against him every time he did so. She lifted her pajamas higher, massaging one of her breasts and sliding along her stomach with one hand, giving him something to watch while her other hand went on his head, fingers tangling into the mess of thick black locks.

She ended up with a few scrapes along her lower stomach from his nose because of how she bucked against him as she approached, and went over the edge, but he didn't hear any complaints when she gingerly examined herself afterward. He licked the slick off his lips, remembering how her most intimate parts quivered as he massaged her clit while licking her clean.

"My turn," Arlong reminded her, his cocks aching for her. He'd rocked himself against the bed while eating her out but held himself from cumming onto the sheets.

"Impatient, are you?" she asked with a lopsided grin. He sat back on the bed, gesturing to his groin, giving her an imperious stare. She chuckled softly at that but offered no further comment as she settled herself between his legs, looking down at his claspers with arousal and a touch of nervousness.

“All for you, my siren,” he rumbled. He ached for her, and his cocks twitched under her gaze, oozing several drops of precum.

She started on the one that was closest to her. He was so big she couldn’t fit it all in her mouth, but her effort was admirable. A deep snarl of satisfaction purred from him as he felt that hot mouth and tongue work around him as he occasionally shifted his hips, feeling her use a free hand to trail her nails along his stomach, something that he found more stimulating than he would have expected.

She alternated between the two cocks, sucking and pumping and occasionally reaching down to massage his sac while he watched, growling encouragement to her. He rested his hand on the top of her head, his head lolling back as he lost himself in the pleasures that her mouth and hands had to offer him.

One load shot down her throat as he moaned her name, and he gripped his other cock as he stared at her with half-lidded eyes, jerking himself off so the second load splattered onto her cheek and chin. True, cum could easily be cleaned off while the bite marks were considerably longer-lasting, but it still thrilled him to see her with the evidence of his passion on her face.

“My siren,” he growled, sitting up and leaning over her so he could admire his handiwork while she blushed. “Such a pretty sight you are.”

She smirked at that, maintaining her dignity as she rose to her feet, looking down at him. “I know I am going to fondly remember the sight of you between my legs, your nose on my stomach,” she shot back. He growled at her playfully and pulled her into his lap, showing her that he wasn’t quite done with her.

o0o0o0o

Back in the good old Arlong Park days, the fishmen were mostly free to do as they pleased in the villages where Arlong had extracted tribute. This included taking pets from the humans, because if Arlong could have a pet human, why couldn't his fellow fishmen? So tribute money was not the only thing extracted from the villages Arlong kept an iron grip on, and Nami was not the only human kept by the fishmen, though she was the one who'd been kept the longest. Unlike many of the other humans that caught the attention of a fishman, Nami had never been called upon for that sort of service.

Yolande was quite unlike Nami, her noises made it evident what Arlong used her for, though he made a fair amount of noise as well, the cacophony penetrating the walls of Arlong’s cabin when he really went at it. I do like hearing my siren sing for me, especially when she’s trying to not make any noise, Arlong had admitted a few nights ago while drinking with his crew, giving out a lewd chortle as he did so after one of the other fishmen commented on the screaming they’d heard earlier.

She’d been out of earshot when the captain made that remark, which was probably a good thing, Chew mused dryly as he slurped up some of the ramen that was the offering for today’s breakfast.

Unlike Kuroobi, Chew did believe in sirens. He remembered his mother telling him about them, and hearing about them again as he got older. He'd known Arlong long enough – and seen Arlong with a few girls back on Fishman Island – to see that the gleam in Arlong's eyes when he looked at Yolande was more than mere infatuation. He never imagined that he'd see a fishman and his siren, but here it was. He wondered what it might be like to have a siren of his own.

He stepped outside of the mess hall for some fresh air, bracing as the cold air hit his face. A knit cap sat on his head, a fortuitous find after the capture and ransacking of this ship. Even after several months of drifting through the cooler parts of the South Blue, Chew was certain he’d never truly get used to the cold. The Conomi Islands seemed almost like a dream sometimes.

"Hey, you all right?" he heard Yolande say. He turned to her and regarded her with a cool gaze. His head was pounding with one of his migraines, and he was grateful that the clouds were thick and gray because if it'd been sunny, it would have felt like the light was stabbing into his eyes. Fucking big-nosed kid and his hammer.

His first instinct was to brush her away and tell her he was fine.

“My head hurts,” he said instead. She was a nurse after all, wasn’t she?

“Is it a headache or migraine?”

“What’s the difference?” he shot back. She asked several questions about his headache and health, and he answered them.

“I suffer from migraines too, and I have medication that can help you if you’re willing to give it a try.”

His cool facade cracked as he stared at her with surprise and interest. She gave him a smile before retreating from his side, returning several minutes later with a small bottle in her hand. She held it up so he could read the label so he knew what he was taking.

“Take one pill with some water. This makes me drowsy and it might do the same for you, so be sure to square off a few hours for rest. If it turns out to work for you, I’ll provide you with more, okay?”

Chew stared down at the pill in his hand. He remembered hearing Yolande’s voice the first time she came onto the ship. He’d been feverish, and in his delirium, could not help but recall the time he’d been sick as a young boy, and how his mother had hovered over him, taking care of him.

She’d died less than a year after that, and with no family members available or willing to take care of him, he’d ended up in the slums, where he fell in with Arlong and the others.

He got some water from the mess hall and took the pill before doing as she instructed and taking a nap before joining the crew for dinner.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he heard her ask. He turned toward her, knowing that if not for the pill, he’d likely be feeling like shit and that could have lasted into tomorrow if his luck was being especially shitty.

“The pain’s gone.” He stared at her for several moments, before adding a quick “thank you.”

She beamed at him. “I’m happy to hear that, and you’re very welcome.” Arlong called her away to sit next to him, and Chew got himself some food and sat down with several other fishmen. He wanted to dismiss her attitude as a facade, a forced cheeriness for her job or some such, but he had the feeling that she was sincerely happy to see he was better. He remembered how relieved and happy his mother had been when he’d recovered from the sea-pox after several terrifying and uncertain days and nights. He’d only been five when she died, so there wasn’t much he remembered, but he did remember the warmth in his mother’s eyes and touch.

o0o0o0o

Yolande drifted in the direction of Arlong's cabin, wanting to read and rest for a bit before it was time to help Hatchan with the evening meal. If she wasn't with Arlong or spending time by herself, she often found her way to the kitchen. She was by no means a chef, but she knew well enough to make a basic dish tasty, and she might not have six hands, but Hatchan welcomed her help in the kitchen nonetheless. He was happy enough to answer her questions about fishman culture and Fishman Island. It was a far cry from the World Government-provided textbooks she remembered from her childhood and the scant – but condescending words – offered about non-humans in these texts.

As she drifted down the hallway to the cabin, she paused as she heard Kuroobi’s voice. It appeared that the door had swung open a little again. It was something she’d noticed a few times, and one had to be firm in pulling the door shut for it to stay that way. Something about the doorjamb, she presumed, but carpentry wasn’t a trade she had tried her hand at yet.

She stood there in the shadows, seeing light from Arlong’s room cutting its way across the floor in the dim hallway.

"Are we just supposed to drift forever? I know we're supposed to be in hiding, but at some point, a decision has to be made," she heard Chew say.

Some grumbling from Arlong that she couldn't make out, then Hatchan spoke up. "Perhaps we could go to the New World."

“There’s a reason why we chose the East Blue in the first place, chu.”

She closed her eyes. The New World. East Blue. Twenty years since she’d been in the East Blue, and even longer since the New World...

“There could be uncharted islands. I mean, we’re fishmen, it shouldn’t be too hard finding a new island, especially a small one,” Hatchan pointed out.

“As long as we’re out of this freezing hell,” Kuroobi growled. She pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh.

“We are fishmen, so perhaps we do some plundering before we do that. Amass a bigger ship and more resources. I’ve heard more than once that you do not want to go through the New World ill-prepared. Even if we decide on something else, we do need a bigger and better ship,” Chew argued.

She was so intent on staying quiet that she did not react until it was too late when Kuroobi stepped in front of the door, cutting off the light. She yelped quietly as his hand wrapped around her upper arm in an iron grip, and she was dragged before Arlong after Kuroobi slammed the door shut.

“See, I told you,” Kuroobi said in an accusatory tone as he glanced at the captain.

“I wasn’t trying to do anything. I simply came to the cabin to rest, and the door was already open,” she explained as she tried to pull away.

“Let her go,” Arlong ordered. She took a deep breath and straightened herself, looking at the captain. “How much did you hear?”

“Chew asking if you were going to drift.”

“Mmm.” Arlong seemed relieved at that. What had they been talking about before? What was the crew not telling her?

“What are you running from? What happened in the East Blue?”

Arlong stared at her, and she wondered if this was one of these times he would say he didn’t want to talk about it. The other fishmen looked at him.

“I, along with my nakama, created a haven for fishmen on an island, where we might enjoy life on land. However, humans took it away from us and drove us out, and others attempted to enslave us.”

It was the truth. But not all of it. She wondered if she should press the issue. Hachi was fiddling his fingers together nervously. Hmm, perhaps not.

“All right. That explains a lot. I’m sorry that happened to you. Chew’s not wrong, you can’t drift forever. Well, unless that’s the kind of lifestyle you’re looking for, but it’s not, isn’t it?”

“What do you think we should do?” Hatchan asked. She gave out a nervous laugh.

“The New World can be rewarding, but it also has risks. Ultimately though, I think the decision rests with Arlong. This is your crew, not mine, and you know them a lot better than I do. The only thing I object to is unnecessary dangers or risks, I’m sure you understand that.”

“It’s reasonable,” Chew put in. “We’ve been through enough.” He gave his captain a pointed glance. Arlong regarded him coolly before returning his attention to her.

“This will require some consideration,” he finally said.

o0o0o0o

Hatchan was in the kitchen, setting things up to cook for the evening meal. He turned to see Kuroobi slide into the mess hall.

“Would you like something now?” the octopus man asked. Kuroobi shook his head as he stood in the doorway that sat between the mess hall and the kitchen.

"You are a curious man, Hatchan. You are my nakama and we have known one another for so long. When you left us, I did not want you to go, but Arlong thought it best. You are back with us now, having seen further proof of the prejudice humans have against fishmen, but you still defend them."

Hatchan held back a wince. He longed to tell his nakama about his time at Sabaody, but that would mean telling them about his involvement with the Straw Hats.

“I’ve said it before, and I will say it again, there are good humans,” Hatchan said calmly, refusing to let Kuroobi intimidate him. “Yes, there’s bad ones, but also good ones, too. I’m not going to hate a whole group based on the actions of some. That would make me no better than the humans who hate all fishmen.”

“Nami betrayed us,” Kuroobi said curtly, nudging the subject in another direction.

“You know what Arlong did was wrong. Maybe if he had treated her better, he might still have his park.”

“Hachi, you have always been too soft to humans. Look at what happens when you try to make friends with them,”

“That’s not the point and you know it. Things have changed. I’ve gotten older and wiser. Whatever was done to fishmen in the past, Nami had no part of it. She was an innocent child that got swept up in all of this. She only wanted the freedom of her village. She’s moved on to better things.”

Kuroobi glanced at him sharply. Hatchan quickly realized his mistake. “I just mean, she had the Straw Hats. And her village got its freedom. Yeah, I miss Arlong Park, too. But I really hope that we can move on to something better, too. You’re my nakama.”

Kuroobi relaxed, if only by a fraction. “I do want better than this.”

Hatchan smiled before he noticed Yolande and Shioyaki enter the mess hall. They were here to help him with dinner. Kuroobi turned to see her and regarded the pair with a curt nod before retreating. Hatchan saw a flicker of sadness on her face before she entered the kitchen, pulling on an apron and washing her hands.

A ship full of hungry fishmen was a daunting prospect for any cook, even one with his experience and extra limbs, and the Commander of Banquets had practical skills to put to use, especially since there wasn’t much occasion – or room – for the parties that used to be held at Arlong Park.

Shioyaki was also one of the fishmen more willing to accept Yolande as the newest member of the crew. Kuroobi wasn’t the only one who seemed unable to look past her mixed heritage, so Arlong’s siren welcomed all the friends she could get.

“Do you have any funny story for us today?” Shioyaki asked as he chopped some vegetables. Yolande frowned thoughtfully before she grinned.

“Okay… here we go. This is the story of Little Kato and Big Kato.

… Once upon a time, in a village lived two men who had the same name, Kato. To tell them apart, the one who only owned one horse was referred to as Little Kato, and the other one, who owned four horses, was known as Big Kato.

Little Kato would sometimes borrow Big Kato's horses to plow his field. While doing so, he would refer to all five of the horses as his. Big Kato caught wind of this and angrily corrected him, telling him to not do it again. Little Kato did it again the next time, so Big Kato killed Little Kato's horse.

Little Kato could do nothing but skin the horse and place it in a sack so he could sell it at the marketplace. That evening, he came across a farm and asked for a place to sleep, but the farmer’s wife would not let him in but told him he could sleep out back. Kato didn’t want to sleep in an open space so he settled under the window, and since the weather was so nice, the wife left it open.

As he lay there in the grass trying to get some rest, he overheard her being visited by the village magistrate, who was bitter rivals with her husband as their sarcastic comments about the farmer revealed. When the farmer came home, she hid all the good food, and the magistrate hid in a chest.

Seeing Little Kato trying to make himself comfortable, the kind-hearted farmer invited him to spend the night. The wife had only gruel for the farmer and the unwanted guest. Little Kato convinced the couple that in his sack was a wizard, and that the wizard had filled the oven with good food and wine for them.

It was where the wife had hidden the meal she was sharing with the magistrate. The farmer asked to see the wizard, but little Kato demurred, saying the wizard would lose his power if people laid their eyes upon him. However, the wizard was perfectly happy to put the farmer’s greatest enemy at his mercy, for a bit of gold.

Kato then pointed to the chest, telling him that the magistrate was in it. The wife threw herself down at Kato's feet, afraid of what else the wizard might do, and confessed her affair with the magistrate. With a grieving heart, the farmer told Kato to take the chest and the gold. The young man took the chest and gold, but after a while, it started to feel quite heavy for him and his arm ached from dragging it along the road.

He stopped at a bridge to rest, and kicked the chest, talking to himself about how the rest of his journey would be much easier if he dumped the chest into the river. The magistrate pleaded for him to not do that, and if he unlocked the chest, he’d give Little Kato all the money he had on him.

Now with a good-sized purse of gold, Little Kato returned home. Big Kato asked how he had gotten hold of such wealth, and Little Kato told him that he had sold his horse's skin. Big Kato killed his own horses and tried to sell them, but when he asked for the same amount of money Little Kato got, the tanners beat him.

Little Kato’s grandmother died, and the young man put her in his bed as a last sign of respect before she was to be taken away. Big Kato, bitter at the loss of his four fine horses, slipped into the house in the dark of night and brought his axe down on the old woman’s corpse, believing it to be Little Kato.

Little Kato took his grandmother in the wagon the next day to bury her. At the inn, he told the ill-tempered innkeeper that his grandmother was relaxing in the wagon and to bring her a glass of wine, but that she was deaf, so to be sure to shout at her.

The innkeeper came to the wagon where she was propped in a seated position, offering her the wine. He shouted at her several times and when she didn't respond, he hit her on the nose, causing the woman to fall over. Little Kato burst from the inn, accusing the innkeeper of killing his grandmother, pointing to the hole in her head that had been caused by the axe.

Realizing the misfortune that would befall him if he did not take responsibility, the innkeeper offered to bury her as if she were his own family, as well as a purse of money for his silence. Little Kato went on his way, now even richer.

Upon seeing that Little Kato was alive, Big Kato visited him to see what happened. Little Kato convinced the other man that he simply sold his dead grandmother’s corpse.

Big Kato killed his grandmother and attempted to sell her corpse several times, and the terrible crime came to light. His reputation tarnished, Big Kato stuffed Little Kato into a sack to carry him to the river and drown him.

He passed a temple and went inside to pray before doing this deed, leaving the sack near the street. An old man with his cattle passed by, and he heard Little Kato whining about how he was not meant to die when he was so young.

The cowherd told him that he was so old but still couldn't go to heaven. Little Kato convinced him to take his place in the sack so that his way to heaven could be hastened. Little Kato promised to take good care of his cattle and went off. Big Kato reclaimed his sack, none the wiser, and threw the sack into the river, certain that his problems would finally be over.

On his way home, much to his shock and horror, he saw Little Kato cheerfully come up the path with some cattle. Little Kato told him that the sack landed at the bottom of the river and a mermaid promised him a herd of cattle if he would give her a kiss.

Big Kato fell for Little Kato's stories once again and asked Little Kato to tie him up in a sack and toss him into the river, even adding a heavy stone to the sack to make sure he reached the bottom.

No one ever saw Big Kato again, and Little Kato lived comfortably for the rest of his days...”

“Haha!” Shioyaki said with a laugh. “I think the story would have been better if Little Kato was a fishman, though,” he added dryly.

She raised her eyebrow at that. "Hmm... the story could be reworked like that."

The salmon fishman smirked at that. “So you have a collection of these stories eh?”

"I pick them up here and there. Some I get from sailors or merchants, like I did with these limericks. Others I read from books or hear from friends. It never hurts to have a few tales and jokes in your social repertoire," she said with a chuckle. It was amazing what one could learn just by listening or digging around in old books. She'd learned so much in life and knew there was even more to discover.

And sharing these amusing bits often served as a good icebreaker, as she’d learned early on in her life. Make others laugh, put them at ease around you. It didn’t always work, but it did often enough for her to keep it in her repertoire if hiding wasn’t an option.

o0o0o0o

“Humans drove us from the home we created for ourselves, and to flee them, we had to enter this cold hell,” Arlong snarled, taking a swig of his drink as several fishmen called out in agreement. “Hiding from humans and licking our wounds, when we are the superior race!”

The recent discussion he’d had with his nakama helped him make a decision. They’d drifted long enough and had the time to recover from their wounds.

“We will make a place for ourselves in this world. And the first step is a newer and better ship. I don’t doubt many of you remember the magnificent Shark Superb. What a fine vessel it was…”

There were murmurs of agreement as several bottles or tankards lifted into the air. Arlong grinned. “What do you say we get a better ship?”

Cheers met these words. As well as when he announced they would be turning northward, into warmer waters.

A platter of various cuts of beef as well as gyoza was brought to him along with sauce to dip it in. He let out a wondering hum as he tasted the spicy sweetness on his tongue after dipping some beef into the sauce. Where did this flavor come from?

“Is this one of your surprises, Hachi?” he asked. The octopus man blinked and shook his head before pointing out Yolande, who was sitting at one of the tables with Take and Shioyaki. He called her over, and she rose from the seat, approaching him.

“This sauce, I am told you made it. What is it?”

“Sweet hot sauce, my personal recipe.” She stood there as he stared at her. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and like most of the others here, she was clad in something with long sleeves, in this case a thin sweater. He idly wondered how she’d look in beach gear. A nice little two-piece that showed off her cute gills and firm ass would be pleasing, he mused. And he’d be better able to admire the bounce of her tits or the sway of her hips when she wasn’t so covered up. He pulled his thoughts back to the present moment, licking some sauce off his finger as he looked at her.

“I’ve had that type of sauce before, but never this good.”

“You’re too kind.” She looked down, and he reached out with a hand, grabbing her arm and pulling her to his side.

“Sirens are said to sing, but I think the crew will be happy with your sauce, hm?”

“I would prefer to use my chemistry skills for this than weapons,” she whispered. He narrowed his eyes before making a soft tutting sound.

“It would be a shame to not make use of your skills when the opportunity arises. After all, we will be getting a bigger ship in due time, and you can be sure we will need to defend ourselves, hmm?”

His grip tightened. She frowned and took a deep breath but like before only offered silence as she stared past his shoulder. He smirked before returning his attention to his meal.

o0o0o0o

The story of Little Kato and Big Kato has been borrowed from the tale of Little and Big Klaus (sometimes spelled Claus) a Danish story collected by Hans Christian Andersen and then featured in Andrew Lang’s Color Fairy books.

As always, reviews and feedback are very much listened to and appreciated.