#It's better to think of it as critique that I can either keep in mind

[ghcstcd]

Remember artists and creatives, you can't please everyone. And you shouldn't strive to please everyone.

[the-lemonaut]

Characters co-owned w @_magic.stardust_ on IG 😌✨ (a couple more comics abt this on my account already)

I'm not a very positive person, i have a LOT of doomer tendencies. I feel everything like it's cranked up to the max, and as you can imagine it doesn't feel great. Every day throws more atrocious things in my face, and i can't ignore it 🥲

I see other people feeling the same way. We dissociate and numb ourselves by watching, playing, buying stuff. Hateful movements are gaining traction and climate change has its foot in the door

And it's all happening either way, to some degree. I feel like shit, and i'm sick of that. I might as well have a little bit of hope, otherwise i'll go bonkers 😭 Do we continue doomering our way through life or ignoring things altogether, or do we choose to hope a little?

That's why i'm looking into Solarpunk and am thinking of taking any readers (and myself) on a little journey through a better world, and how it might work, through a series of mini-comics I'm posting here. I don't have all the answers (no one person ever does), and i don't hold any pretenses that this kind of world is going to be our future. But i often hear "You love critiquing the status quo, but what do you propose instead?" I'd like to find out too. Here's to something we can hope for, no matter how slim the chances are! Because as I said, i might just lose my mind otherwise ☠️

P.S for new peeps: this is an AU with me and my friend's OCs, so all characters are genderless and go by they/them. It's not identical to our world in that regard, but other than this fact we try to keep it more or less realistic 🤙

I spent a thousand krillion hours on this and the other Solarpunk comics, consider throwing 2$ at me on Buy Me A Coffee to raise my spirits :] I'm not doing well mentally these days, but people's appreciation helps a lot. Thank you very much!

[incidentallysunny]

I Was Never There.

Death Island Leon x Reader

Real!Dad Leon

Dead dove warning.

13k word count. Proof read 3 times until I got to around 11k then I stopped worrying and just skimmed. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I’d like to appear in the tagz pls so here’s a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing f*cked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don’t be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, daddy-issues, age-gap, overall disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, mentions of oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, any probably some other irrelevant shit I’m forgetting my b.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it’s a long one.

The drive from your college town to where your home had been all your life was as expected. Nostalgia and homesickness being mixed in your gut like a can of paint in one of those weird machines at the hardware store that your dad would take you to. Speaking of dad, you hardly remember him. He was present for a short while, your mom always excusing his absence with work this and work that. He really did get busy, though. Almost dying several times. You still remember your moms panicked phone calls, her countless prescription drugs for the same problems you now suffer from, and her late-night bathroom breakdowns. Apparently he couldn’t get out of this job though. Some real fucked up government shit he was tied to, your mom explained. All you know about him is that he saved the president’s daughter. Whatever.

So yeah- a perfect life with a perfect set of parents. One being mentally driven through the dirt and the other that you haven’t seen in 8 years or maybe more. You can’t seem to remember if the last few times you saw your dad were daisied dreams or reality. Bastard has never FaceTimed or video called you, either. Dunno if he even had a phone capable of that. Either way, it must be for the better, because your grades had been sufficient without stressors on your mind. And we all know a low-effort dad would definitely be one. But perhaps he’d rather just be there in person. Older people are like that.

You grunted, trying to drag your over-packed suitcase up the steep suburban driveway before sighing and standing in place. Sure, you didn’t need to bring so much shit home, but would you really want to risk some bitch at college stealing anything from your quad-dorm?

Before you could think and figure out how you’d even get the plastic luggage up the pristine, hand-painted porch steps and inside (without scratching them up and having your parents on your ass about their perfect house having a flaw) a voice called out to you. Unrecognized and not ringing any of the bells in your head. (If there were any left)

“Hey there, sweetheart. It’s been a while, huh?”

You turned to see a middle-aged man, similar to the last memory of your dad that had been printing-pressed into your mind for safe keeping. He was just emerging from the front door, broad chest accentuated by a well-fitted T-shirt. You immediately felt angry that his tits were bigger than yours. Would probably look better with a bra, too.

You didn’t answer.

Fuck- nerves were getting the better of you. Your palms were slick with sweat and you didn’t know if it was from the building summer humidity or anxiety. Was this normal? No the fuck it wasn’t.

“Uhh.. dad?” You queried- almost certain the gorgeous man at the door was just a hotter, older version of your dad and not actually him. The fuck is wrong with you? You’re getting this worked up over your father? Did college drinking really rewire your brain to be this fucked or is it all of the anxiety meds? Maybe both. Maybe you’re just overwhelmed. Maybe it’s because you rarely saw him and have zero attachment.

“Yeah, it’s me. Your old man. Missed you, kiddo.” There’s a pause for a moment- because you’re not sure why he’s talking so casually as if you see each other every weekend- like it hasn’t been years and years since you’ve seen him.

“Don’t remember me,huh?” He laughs satirically- like you’re supposed to be so sure. It makes you slightly furious and the feeling of anger bubbles up again- replacing any strange thoughts you were having moments ago.

No, my apologies dearest dad. I totally recognize you despite having met you enough times to count on almost two hands.

But the better part of you that managed to exist underneath the scores of problems you had just replied in jest- like someone without said scores of problems. It was best to keep the peace for now.

“You look a little different… sorry.” Is that all you can manage? It’s pitiful the state that your sullied mind is in.

He chuckles, though, like he knows your’re right. The sound is more pleasant and striking when it’s genuine. Makes you feel damp in other areas than just your armpits (thank you, heatwave).

“I suppose there’s truth to that. But It’s alright, sweetheart. I know it’s been a long time. People change, right?” His eyes scan you in an undecided way.

“But you, shit. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. College treating you well?” His words sound a little huffed then, he’s clearly beating around the bigger issue with a stick. But him calling you beautiful and being all fucking sappy makes your face feel hot and sticky like it’ll melt off. Got you wanting to rip the hair from your scalp to hear him say it again.

“Please?” You called out gently- gesturing to the suitcase and ignoring any other question. You were very much overstimulated- having overexerted muscles in your arms by being a weak bitch about a crammed carry-on. Just get your ass out here and help your daughter, thanks.

He shook his head- again laughing hotly while looking down as he stepped off the porch- his brown bangs were peppered with greys and they brushed his face on one side, his hair somehow pornographic on its own. Christ. He looked like one of those men you saw on Viagra commercials that obviously didn’t actually need it. Even the sight of your perfectly trimmed lawn and faux-looking home completed the scene. Where was the camera?

He walked over to you- there was a slight stiff in his stride; like he had a bad back or something. Maybe he did. Almost dying was the likely cause for that. Serves him right for leaving you with issues on top of issues. Maybe you should stop being mean, you’re the one getting hot over your own father. Again- because of him. Circle back to square one.

Leon towered over your frame as he hinged at the hips, picking up the suitcase with ease- the muscles in his arm flexed with each small movement. His face was a tinge of smug with a mix of something else…satisfaction? Maybe he was just pleased he was able to lift it without rupturing a hernia. Jesus Christ, his veins. You wonder if he has them anywhere else. No- maybe you should be wondering about taking your ass to an inpatient facility immediately. A few screws are loose and you don’t exactly have the tools to tighten them.

“I guess college did treat you well. You’re here in one piece.” He says- cutting you thickly from your thoughts and answering his own question from earlier. His blue eyes are sweet and gently lined with signs of aging. Which only makes him hotter- just like the fiery pits of hell that await you.

You scoff.

“Well, it’s not like I went to war or something.”

“Still. It’s nice to see you, sweetheart.” The word rolls off his tongue again. Your insides are trapezing around in their own miniature, fleshy circus- you’re wishing you could stab yourself in the stomach to stop the swarm of butterflies that don’t even feel metaphorical anymore. You’re sure they’re real now.

He continues, though.

“I know I haven’t been around much in your life- this fucking job and-“ You stare up at him- glossy doe-eyes and stupid look on your face. An apology- or even an explanation from your daddy might be part of what your scrambled brain needs.

“Work kept me away, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about you every day. I’m sorry if I wasn’t there for you like I should have been. Shit… What I mean to say, is- things will be different. I’ve retired. Your mother wanted me to tell you over dinner later but I figured you’d be happy to know. I’m not the best at keeping secrets.” He jokes at the end, but how is that true in the slightest? He’s kept his job a secret for your entire life, so he clearly can’t be that horrible at it.

“Oh.” Leaves your lips quietly, ghosting over Leon and leaving him wondering if he said something wrong. But then he realizes it’s probably just overwhelming for you. The worst part of him thinks you hate him. A feeling overcomes you though, and you rush in to wrap your arms around his waist- hugging him tightly. You now wonder why he didn’t hug you to begin with. Maybe he wasn’t an affectionate guy.

He says nothing at first- he’s even more awkward than you are if it’s possible. But he’s trying. He sets down your suitcase before returning your hold. One arm comes around the back of you and the other is overlapped on top- a hand nestling on the back of your head. Seems he’s getting a bit emotional, too. The attention from him is nice, though.

When you make a small grunt as to wanting to end the hug, his hands linger on your shoulders and he smiles at you. You actually return to, not feeling anything horrid become of your thoughts right now. Whether it be anger or incestual lust.

—

Your dad pushes the front door open with one of his large hands encased on the knob. Hands you immediately find attractive, wondering if they’d feel nice scissoring your cunt open. You now begin to understand why your mom was getting suicidal over him possibly not returning home. You’d kill yourself over him too. But that’s too morbid- especially after the moment you just shared.

That’s already lost to you.

He shut the door firmly, sighing, then gestures to the stairs.

You went up first, self conscious about your backside being right in front of his view but he was your dad. Wouldn’t be looking at you that way. You’re just brain-rotted and have an ill opinion of men.

Your old bedroom still looked the same, basically. Just emptier and more hollow without your things. But the walls were still painted a babydoll-pink and lined with the few girlish decorations you left on the wall. No way you would have been caught dead with those in your dorm. Not unless you wanted to endure torment and bullying that’d lead you to jumping off the dormitory roof.

He sets your luggage down and takes a seat on your bed. A groan escapes him as he puts a hand on his lower back for a moment.

“I see this room hasn’t changed much, has it?” he muses, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Your mom and I had a blast putting it together for you when she was pregnant.”

Yikes. You almost feel guilt for both the incestuous thoughts and the fact you may have ruined your parents' marriage. Maybe that’s not true. It was his work- not you. After all, he’s insinuating how happy they were to have you brought into this world. Plus- they were fine. Never argued or anything.

“I’m sorry. I dont- I don’t know what to say.” You laughed awkwardly, throwing your hands slightly up by your side.

His face doesn’t drop, though. It seems he understands perfectly fine.

“It’s okay. We can start from scratch. Not talk about… your room or childhood stuff. I know it’s a sore spot for you, sweetheart.”

Wrong. It’s more like a festering wound with the rusted knife still wedged in it. The knife being Leon and the wound your daddy issues, by the way. And having no attachment to him as a father figure makes the attraction worse. Notably when he calls you any term of endearment. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

What the fuck. Was he sculpted by Satan himself as some kind of hell-on-earth punishment? Is this purgatory? Everything he did now was driving you up the wall like a roach- every movement and small flex showing a vein or bulge of muscle. And his arm hair didn’t help. Fucking Christ- shave it off or something. You don’t know how you’ll be able to stand it.

“Okay…. How does that work?” You cocked your head to the side a little, shifting your weight onto one leg. A nervous habit.

“Well- what do most parents do with their kids? We could go out for dinner, catch a movie, just… hang out. I’d like to spend time with my daughter, you know.”

Okay, so maybe he did care. That’s a start.

“Uh… all three?” You questioned, an eyebrow lifting along with the infliction of your voice towards the end of your sentence. You’re indecisive like your mom.

He smiled, lines and the corners of his mouth pressed. Happy. Something you heard wasn’t common for him, anyways.

“Of course. We can go out tomorrow, honey. Your mom just wants us to all have dinner together when she gets home. She missed you- not as much as I did, I bet.” He does that stupid fucking wink again. It makes you switch emotions and want to throw something at his head. Maybe your lamp. You feel bad, It’s not his fault you’re acting like a mental freak about him. You don’t even bother to fixate on the fact you’ll have to have dinner with your cunt of a mom. Okay, maybe that’s harsh.

“Okay.” You breathe out, looking around your room. Leon takes that as a cue to stand up from your old bed- the thing creaking from his weight and leaving an indent on your comforter.

“It’s a date, then. I’m going to start dinner. As much as I love your mother, she can be…scary.” He says, still rocking that pressed-in-cheek smile and cracking your door closed behind him. By the way, what he really meant was probably ‘bitchy’- not scary. But dad seems too kind to say that. He loves your mom.

You can breathe again without his presence. It was smothering, like you had to overperform. You find yourself rushing to your dresser mirror to check how you looked. Hair looks great, face too- though a little tired from college over-studying and then driving 4 hours home with no break.

You might as well write ‘whore’ on your mirror with lipstick. Or a marker- since that’s a more permanent reminder with the way you’re acting. But part of you wanted to know what he thought of you- how he perceived you. For now though, it doesn’t matter. Had barely been 15 minutes since you arrived. You turn your attention to your suitcase and push it over flat, unzipping it before the teeth give out and some of your things spill from inside.

You had less than a sufficient amount of energy to care about it being broken now- so you just put your things away quickly before plopping onto the bed and indulging your senses with the smell of the floral detergent your mom always used on your sheets.

—

It’s some time later when you’re abruptly awoken by your moms manicured hand shaking you awake by the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping when you could be spending time with your father. He was excited for you to be home.”

‘Way to wake me up.’ You thought. She was always having a stick up her ass about this kind of thing. Or anything, really..

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Besides, we’re going out tomorrow to do a bunch of stuff.” You argue sleepily, sitting up as your back aches with your vision still adjusting. She cuts on the lamp, sizzling your retinas.

Her face perks up but is pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, okay..” silence.

“I’m sorry, honey. It was just a long day at work and I’m just over-the-moon for you two to finally have some daddy-daughter time.”

You wrinkle your face in disgust, but not fully disgust since you were just fawning over your hot dad earlier. Maybe daddy doesn’t sound so bad.

“Ew- mom. He’s just my dad. I’m not five.” She laughs, waving her hand off at you.

“Well anyhow- come down for dinner, will you? He put in a lot of effort to cook something for us.”

You cursed under your breath and straighten out your shirt- hoping she wouldn’t bitch about it being slightly wrinkled from you sleeping in it. You seat yourself at the table- adjacent from your mother sitting at the end. She’s already changed out of her office clothes and sure enough, here comes your daddy dad from the kitchen with utensils.

“Sorry ladies- almost forgot these.” He laughs, placing down everyone’s set before seating himself next to you. Fuck.

“You know- your father has only been home a few months and he’s already shown the extent of his memory loss.” She jokes, giving him a loving yet teasing look that makes you want to vomit. And yet jealousy curls up like a cat in your lap, wanting to be lavished with attention from you. The metaphorical jealousy pounces off your lap as you’re met with your dad’s hand on your denim-clad thigh. It’s an innocent gesture but you want to his hand to go further than just sitting politely.

“She’s right, but I can be useful otherwise.” He’s bantering back with her- and you realize he’s making an innuendo when you look over at his face. But it’s weird that he’s saying it while his digits cradle your thigh so gently.

“Gross.” You take a bite of your food- momentarily shocked that a dad of any sort could make such a pleasant meal, especially when he’s spent such little time doing domestic duties.

“Oh honey- you’re grown. We’re just teasing each other.” Your mom nods to Leon, taking a bite off of her fork. His hand slides off of your thigh and he grabs his whiskey glass to take a proper sip.

Jeez, he drinks that shit like its water. No grimacing. No face was made when he swallowed it. Just a guy thing you suppose.

Dinner drags on- the both of them forcing you to talk about your less-than-thrilling college experience. No mom, no boyfriend. No dad, I’m not failing. No you two, I’m not having unprotected sex- fuck off.

After that eventful meal and conversation where your parents basically eye-fucked each other over dinner, you’re left to clean up the mess while your mom gets ready for bed. She has to leave for work early in the morning- as usual. Guess she’s going to take your dad’s spot for the absent parent now that you’re grown and traumatized full and proper.

-

Sleep came and went- leaving you to trudge out of bed and do your morning routine. It felt out of place trying to do it back at home- but it was also a sentimental feeling to be doing just that.

Leon is already in the kitchen, shirtless and cooking. Seems impractical, but holy fuck. You’d gorilla glue your eyelids open just to not miss a single second of what you’re seeing. Maybe that wasn’t needed- because you've been staring long enough that your eyes prick with tears. You remind yourself to blink and you seat yourself at the high-top, the stool swiveling slightly when your bottom meets the material.

“Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” He asks, turning to look at you over his shoulder. His traps are distracting you. You want to chew your fingernails past the nail bed- bite a finger off too. You can’t stand it. For a moment- the way he talks to you- you’re pretending you’re not his daughter. And then a moment later, you’re not being delusional anymore.

“Mhm.” You mumble sleepily- wishing you’d have stayed in bed longer. But piercing morning light, lack of blackout curtains, and the chirping of birds outside made that idea inconceivable. Leon chuckled to himself- turned away from you.

You decide to scroll through your phone for a moment’s time before he slides a plate to you from across the island.

“Breakfast a la Leon.” He says- clearly being silly. Corny as fuck, anyways.

“You’re old.” You snort, setting aside your phone and grabbing a fork to pick at your food until he turns away again. You didn’t enjoy the idea of having a hot, shirtless man watching you eat.

He shakes his head, sitting down next to you at the island.

Christ. Fucking go away. It’s actually enraging now.

You want to scream at him- it’s irrational and crazy- but you do. Screaming at him and being sent away to a ward sounds more appealing than the anxiety crawling up your spine like a horde of fire ants. Potentially- just like the butterflies- they’re real too.

He seems undisturbed as he settles- taking a bite. You do the same- trying to ignore the fact he's so close you can nearly feel his arm hair touching you every second or so. He breaks the silence after a moment.

“So- after this, I’ve got a whole day planned out. Mall, movies, and dinner. Sound good?” You nod, a soft ‘mhm’ reverberating on the roof of your mouth.

He finishes before you and makes his way upstairs- the occasional pain in his back unmistakeable every few steps. And yet he wants to take you to the mall to walk around? You didn’t even know how to feel about a day with your dad. What’s a dad? What’s daddy-daughter bonding? That’s lost to you- well- more like it was never even discovered. Not even Columbus could have ventured out and conquered it.

Since he’s no longer in the room, you hastily eat the rest of your breakfast before you discard the plate and fork into the way-too-elaborate dishwasher your mom had installed (you totally didn’t spend 10 minutes trying to turn it on).

Back in your room, you settle on a simple, totally not underlyingly slutty outfit. Shorts and a crop top. Can never go wrong with that. It’s just soft/core prom enough for an outing with your dad. When you leave your room- Leon is just headed down the stairs. He turns to look at you, his smile is as jovial as it has been since you’ve seen him. For a moment though, you think you catch his eyes landing on your exposed legs- but you know you’re just crazy. You’re the one lusting after him, not the other way around. Your dad isn’t abnormal like you. His head is on correctly- even if it’s been battered and spun on his shoulders throughout the years.

“Ready?” He asks, stopping in place to wait for you. You nod stupidly, breaking from your trance to follow him in a descent down the stairs.

He’s dressed similar to how he was yesterday- jeans and a t-shirt that should be considered indecent. If you were your mom, you’d beg him to wear something that doesn’t highlight every curve and dip of his chest. Hell, if you were your mom, you’d never let him go outside. Too risky. But you’re not your mom. You’re just unusual.

As a perfect man does, he opens the door for you. Then opens the SUV door, allowing you in before shutting it behind. You’re sure you've never met a guy that does that in real life, but maybe it was a ‘you’ problem and not the guy. Who knows.

When he gets in, he cranks the vehicle only for rock music to start playing from the radio- making the corners of his mouth dimple with a pleased look. Really are the simple things for him. As for you, you’re suffocated in a Hellish torment by both his presence and the expensive scent of cologne and leather seats combo.

The ride isn’t long, nor bad. Albeit you two only talk here and there so he can focus on the road- and so you can focus on not dying (he’s not a perfect driver, but not terrible either). Just enough to keep your nerves teetering between a light anxiety attack and full blown panic.

You’re relieved to get there alive. Maybe not. Your thoughts have you thinking suicide may be your only option for now disgusting they are. And it only gets worse when he helps you down from the step up of the SUV- a hand on your exposed waist and the other on your shoulder. It’s harmless. Just a dad being gentlemanly. He was shaped and carved out in that perfect, chivalrous image with only a mallet and hammer. No reason to make it weird.

Inside the mall is a tad busy- the perfect amount to be comforting. You feel a bit more at ease in a public setting since you can now focus on anything but your dad’s chest. As long as he doesn’t require eye contact or talk to you, that is.

He looks around, arms crossed. It’s almost whorish. He has to know his arms look good. Or that his everything looks good. The fuck.

“So…” He cranes his head to the side, bangs brushing over his nose for a moment. The way he looks around makes his Adam’s apple and neck muscles a little more prominent. A perfect, stubbled spot to attack with your lips.

“What do you feel like doing first, kiddo?”

You. Is what you want to say.

He looks back to you, smiling down amused. He seems genuinely happy to be able to take you out. But really- his face is making you nauseous. Obviously not because it’s bad. But because it’s good-bad. Too good it’s bad.

“Uhh… “ you look away from him, scanning the entrance area and looking at any signs. Almost like an escape.

“How about new clothes maybe? Seems like something got ahold to the other half of your pants anyways.” He nudges you with an elbow, gesturing to your shorts with his head.

So he probably did look at your legs earlier. Maybe not in the way you think, though.

You glare at him.

“Seriously?”

Leon puts his hands up in defense. He’s always on the defense in life anyways.

“Joking, joking. You’re…grown.” His forehead lines crease when he raises his brows. You did get rather annoyed at his comment, however.

“I could always buy some even shorter.” You spit sarcastically.

“Yes- because every father wants to walk around with their daughter who has her ass out.” He’s quick to remark, this time he seems grumpier when he talks. Sorta like he’s uncomfortable with the conversation. Or that he’s mad.

“Sorry my legs make you so uncomfortable. I guess I should’ve left them at home.” The back and forth here could go on forever between you two but he catches you off guard.

“Shit- no. It’s not that- ‘s just you’ve got nice legs. Can’t have these…shitheads eying down my little girl. I may be old, but I can fight when I need to.”

You know he meant his words innocently enough, but the fact that he said nice legs has you giddy inside. Same feeling when your crush calls you pretty. Yeah- that sorta feeling. And his little girl. It has a ring to it. Could even legally change your name to it so that he can call you by it more often. Maybe he’ll even let you jump on his dick right away.

Your face is pure rose-shaded. A perfect, neutral shade to make your embarrassment pop on your skin. You’re sure it’s visible to him, too. Your mom always teased you about how blotchy it would get when you were humiliated. Particularly when she would tell awkward stories about you at family dinners. Bitch.

“What’s wrong? Don’t be pissed at me, sweetheart. I was just teasin-“

“It’s not that.” You interrupt- heart thumping into your rib cage. If it doesn’t stop, or you don’t stop your word-vomit, it might crack a rib or four. Probably more. Better have hospital bill and therapy money ready, dad.

“Then what’s the matter? I just want us to have a good time together. I’m not trying to upset y-“

“You said I have nice legs.” You’re quick to cut him off again.

“And…?” He trails off, cocking his head to the side like he’s confused. Because he is confused. You stare off to the side- eyes glued to the fountain. Maybe you could go drown yourself in the penny-flavored water that you guarantee hasn’t been changed out since you were still the unlucky sperm in your dad’s ball-sack.

“I like that. You saying that.” You speak a little lower now- afraid someone will hear. Or because the tinnitus is so loud in your ears. What you’re getting at is almost clear now. Or at least clear enough.

Leon’s expression is taken aback but still confused to an extent because he’s not even certain what you’re saying. Though, he has an idea.

“Oh- uh. Okay. Sweethea-“

“Holy fuck- stop calling me that. You’re not making this easy. Wanting to fuck you. I know- I sound mental.” You spill it out, guts on the floor and the sword still in hand. Holy shit. Just told your dad you want to fuck him. You could have backtracked- fucking dumbass. You won’t be shocked if he packs his bags and leaves off again tomorrow.

He’s silent for a moment.

“Okay- clearly I wasn’t around enough. I get that. But I mean- fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking around. Probably thinking the same thing about the fountain that you did. Still- he looked hot while having a crisis and contemplating immediate suicide. He paces while your nerves are being electrocuted in your body. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Just- sweetheart, no. None of that’s.. I can’t.” He starts, turning back to you. It seems he can look you in the eyes now. So maybe he’s not entirely disgusted by you. His face isn’t contorted with disgust, so there’s a chance. Yeah, you’re off your rocker now. You know.

“Look- let’s not talk about this. C’mon. Let’s go catch a movie like I promised.” He starts walking- leaving you standing in a puddle of shame and embarrassment for a moment before stopping to let you catch up.

Luckily- the theater is joined to the mall. It’ll be a short walk.

—

Leon is lax on the couch until he hears the crunchy sound of tires on concrete. You’re home. Despite his shitty back, he's huffing as he gets up fast and is already opening the door. The air is hot as it greets his skin and he watches you struggle with your suitcase through the heat-haze that spans over the distance.

He calls out to you- making your head snap in his direction. Your face is that of awe and confusion. You don’t seem to immediately recognize him- okay. He gets it. It’s been a while. Nevertheless, you’re beautiful. He’d seen pictures of you from your mother, but he’s in awe just as you are. Though, he doesn’t think that highly of himself so he often wonders if you’re even his kid. Couldn’t have made something that perfect, in his mind. He helps you with your bag and follows you to your room. But your demeanor around him is noticeably mousey. At first, it doesn't seem like much. You’re just getting used to him.

Plus, Leon knows he can come off intimidating. Sometimes. But for him, he’s got a good eye and his job has led him to being able to read even the tiniest bits of body language. Doesn’t take him long to see how you’re worming around shyly- subconsciously smoothing your hair down and biting at your lip. Same way your mom acted around him before they started dating. But again- maybe it’s just in his head. Leon’s been wrong a time or two.

A better man would have left it alone. Leon gets that. But an innocent thigh squeeze at dinner can help him test his theory. A thigh squeeze that’s under the guise of friendly, fatherly touch. You tense- he can hear your small, sucked in breaths as long as his hand is there, along with heat radiating off your body like a wildfire. If wildfires could be horny college-aged daughters with daddy issues, that is.

The idea disgusts him. Because he should feel disgusted and just kill himself. Where did these thoughts come from? He even has the urge to let his hand wander other places. Bets that you have a cute pussy. No matter what it does or doesn’t look like, it’s yours and he knows it's cute. He’d give you two thick digits in your hole (three if you allow him) and have his tongue kitten-lick your clit.

“There we go. Good girl.” Is what he envisions saying before diving back in for a mouth full of you. Girls like you love being praised. Especially by their estranged father-figure or a middle aged man. It’s all the same. He’d pry the daddy issues right out of you with his dick. It’s long and fat enough, and solves all of his matters properly. Your mom is in a bad mood? His dick will fix that. He can’t sleep? His dick will fix that. His daughter is a horny freak and begging for it? His dick will fix that, too- obviously.

It’s only when your mom makes some stupid fucking joke about his memory loss that he snaps back into reality and he loses the momentum he had going for an erection. Which is good. Maybe thinking about fucking your mom will make him normal again. So he drops a quip right back- something about… being useful. Yeah. Again, his cock is useful. Your mom bites at his words, but you’re annoyed and disgusted with his comment- especially with his hand on you while he says it.

Trust me, baby. Much rather be splitting you open than having performative, mandatory spousal sex. It’s like a switch flipped. He’s not interested in your mom. Should’ve had that realization years ago, even. Technically he did. He’s just now saying it in his head finally. Mostly he was exhausted because she had nothing to do with Leon even when he was home (unless it was for dick). Too bad he was a golden retriever following after her every step like a good doggy. Marriage did that to a guy. He just did what he was supposed to. Kept the lights on, blew out her back occasionally, listened to her complain, and took care of the lawn when he could. Easy enough. That’s what men do, right? He doesn’t really know what being a man is, honestly. Thanks, Major Krauser. Anyhow- he chokes down his food with a smile. The need to upchuck after everything he just thought up is a given.

He takes the liberty to fuck your mom later that night as promised per (faux) flirting over dinner. He has her face down-ass up, though. For… imagination’s sake. At least fucking a pussy and imagining you is better than his hand and imagining you. Or so he tells himself. Call it killing two birds with one stone, satisfying your mom and quelling his own desires. And it’s not hard to imagine any of it, because you look so much like your mother. He lies awake for a short while after- contemplating his existence and fucked up thoughts. He’s still holding back vomit and the urge to grab his gun from the nightstand and off himself all over the wallpaper, while in the process, traumatizing your mom. After an hour of this- he figures it’s fine, men think of perverted or weird shit sometimes. Jerk off to weird shit too. He hasn’t technically done anything morally wrong… sort of. It’s denial. At least he’s good at playing the part of a genuine, loving father. Because he is! He loves his family. Always has!

Spending time with you would make you happy, him happy, your mom happy. He loves you dearly. All is great. He’s swearing that his brain won’t be smoothied in his skull by tomorrow. It’ll be normal and function rationally.

But Leon wakes up with the thoughts being real as ever while he stretches an arm out to feel around for your mother- bed empty since she leaves at the ass crack of dawn. Leon had just missed her leave, he’s still getting used to sleeping in ever since he retired.

He gets up and heads downstairs- immediately starting breakfast to take his mind off his…mind. Breakfast is his favorite meal of the day, it makes him feel better to indulge in it right now. Though, he doesn’t bother putting a shirt on at any point- just rocking those generic, green and blue tartan patterned pajama pants. Cooking shirtless is weird- but he’s hungry and part of him wonders if he’ll get to see your priceless face when you walk into the kitchen. He shakes his head- telling himself that he just had this talk with himself last night. None of that shit.

He was right about one thing. God, he could make a killing in betting. He sees your reflection behind him in the small window above the counter but you didn’t know that. Just stood, gawking. It’s okay. He’s observative, you’re not. You’re his dumb little girl. Dumb in the way you shift in your stool next to him when he sits down, dumb how you hold your breath when he’s near, dumb how you can’t even eat next to him, and dumb how your thighs seem to wriggle when his arm ‘accidentally’ brushes yours. Oh, he’s definitely not wrong.

Still- he knows when to back off. He hounds down his food, before you even make a dent in your plate, and heads upstairs to shower. He’s analyzing every detail of himself, contemplating how he can get under your skin the most- his knuckles gripping the sink with distaste for himself. Because it’s wrong. He’s acting like a teenager. This is a date with his daughter, not his highschool girlfriend.

Leon skips over shaving his face. Likes to keep it a little grown out but not too much so. Just in case he gets the chance to eat (your) pussy or kiss (your) a neck. Then comes the Dior ‘Sauvage’ body wash he never failed to keep with him. He takes pride in smelling good if anything. And this particularly expensive wash, plus the cologne, was his lifeline for that. When he traveled for work- the D.S.O. better have god damned had some sent to his room as courtesy. Ever since Raccoon City- he’s adamant about not smelling less than great. He swears he can still smell the sewer on himself sometimes, even if it’s not really there.

His hair routine was even more extensive and involved a weekly hair mask. Hey- it wasn’t wrong for a guy to have nice hair. It paid off.

Heat protectant, blow dry, hot-comb to get any cow licks or fly-aways he might have- though it’s unlikely- and a little spritz of biotin spray to keep it healthy and shiny. All of that in reasonable time, too. And no- it's not weird for him to spend longer on his hair than your mom does.

Besides, you seem to appreciate the way he looks when you come out of your bedroom- watching him descend the stairs. Leon looks back at you- eyes on your legs momentarily then coming back up. He knows it was a quick look- quick enough to make you question it. You do. Very much. Still, taking you out in public wearing those shorts is less than ideal for him, but he’s the one who needs to be watched closely. Aforementioned, Leon’s great at pretending. Pretending to be normal. Pretending to not have ulterior motives. Pretending to not want your legs on his shoulders as he-

“All ready?” He interrupts himself here. Can’t let his thoughts keep going too far. Even if he does want to rest a hand on your leg while he drives. Or veer off the road and into a tree so that he can’t continue to be disgusting. He’d die with the image of being a good, wholesome dad in everyone’s mind. And if you did or didn’t die too, at least you would have died not having been fucked silly by your old man. He manages to not kill you both, though. He wasn’t planning to- his driving is just ass. He knows whiskey with his breakfast isn’t ideal but when you’re a recovering alcoholic plus post traumatic stressed failure of a father, it helps.

Can’t complain though since he gets to put his hands on you while helping you out of the vehicle.

Now you’re both in the mall- Leon questioning what exactly he’s supposed to do now. He hasn’t been to one since… he doesn’t have enough fingers for that. But you’re seemingly calm. Until he makes a stupid joke about your shorts. Sure. As much as he’s thinking about ripping a hole in the crotch to fuck you cause he’s impatient and stupid- he said it out of genuine concern.

He still has fatherly instinct. Some sick bastard could get a glimpse of your exposed legs and go jerk off to it or take a photo. Ironic coming from him right now. The call is coming from inside the house but the dad is too busy fiending after his own daughter to answer.

You’re royally pissed. He knows it. Women don’t like having it insinuated that they’re dressed like a whore. Big whoop, though. Someone has to say it. Then you blindside him. Big, needy eyes and saying you like it when he tells you your legs are nice. Then something about how you want to fuck him. Christ. What the fuck. He’s not sure if this is some kind of screwy set-up or you’re actually just so slutty that the only dick you’ll accept is your dad’s. He’s rocking a semi now. Would be a full hard-on if he weren’t in public but his head spins cause all the blood went to his loins too fast.

Leon doesn’t accept the advances yet. Not now, anyways. He’s mortified. He really thought he had himself going in delusion about how you were behaving- but he was actually right. And now being confronted with it… he’s fucking scared - that’s for sure. Hmm. Be a morally acceptable human or fuck your needy, whore daughter silly? He shakes his head and lets out an exhale.

That question needs some thought. No, it doesn’t. He knows better than to do any of that shit, right? He takes a moment to start walking while you follow along shamefully- the two of you headed to the theater. A movie is perfect. Don’t have to talk or anything. No interacting, really. But how the fuck is he just going to forget what you said? Sure, he’s been having questionable thoughts but they’re just thoughts. Your words, however, spoke it into existence. Like a fucked up, frankenstein’s monster of father-daughter reality.

Don’t mind us, everyone. Daughter’s got it real bad for me but I’m just going to take her to the movies and pretend it’s normal. Reality was distorted for him ever since the existence of zombies and BOWs anyway.

He lets you pick the movie- telling the attendant that he needs two tickets. It’s a horror movie. Of course. Something to trigger his PTSD, maybe. Then he could say anything he did after that was just accidental. A mental slip. He goes to fork over the $60 for tickets and popcorn- god, when did shit get so expensive? As he’s pulling out the cash, he sees you give him a look like you want to say something. His mind is racing looking at you- it makes him nervous.

“Uh.. what about candy?” You ask, looking away from him and at the display.

“What? Sour worms?” He questions you, laughing. Not in a mean way- but because it’s your favorite. So insignificant but he remembers. You were still a kid when he and your mom took you to see some milked out children’s movie that was a part of an entirely too long series. He bought you two boxes of sour worms then. You were a weird kid, though. The worms were split into two colors, and you’d always bite them down the middle and make him eat the side you didn’t like. But he’d do it. Gladly.

You nod, a little befuddled that he’d remember something like that. Cute. Too bad your weird ass just told him you wanted to fuck him about 15 minutes ago. So not entirely a cute moment.

“Oh- and two boxes of Sour Worms, please.” He adds, now pulling out a little more cash.

You both respectively grab your own drinks- Leon with popcorn in tow and you, your worms and cherry soda. His hands are full but he manages to flash the movie ticket between his index and middle finger to the usher, who then ripped it in half and pointed to the left end of the hallway.

You both don’t say anything, but you immediately race to the very top row like a child once inside the screening. Leon swears under his breath as he follows you like a geriatric snail. If a snail could have lumbar issues. He’s able to make it up the stairs to you quite some time after and takes the seat next to you that’s closest to the aisle. Safety and all that jazz.

Previews are already playing so it gives him peace of mind to not address the awkwardness between the two of you. Your soda is in the cup holder that’s separating you both, but you lean over to take a sip, cheeks hollowed out while you drink. Of course Leon looks over, fuck.

Pretty little lips wrapped around the straw until you pull off of it with a satisfied sigh. Cause you were thirsty from anxiety- like someone shoved gauze and cotton into your mouth.

He shifts in his seat and looks back at the screen. He doesn’t even know if you’re doing it on purpose. You’re not, however. He’s just a perverted dickhead.

Time passes and not a single soul has come into this screening. It’s Monday at 11am, after all. Who the hell would come watch a horror movie at this time? No one except two fucking weirdos. It’s making Leon’s nails dig into the armrest with the other set scratching at his jeans.

The movie doesn’t start off bad, to Leon’s shock. He’s actually enjoying it and you seem just as entranced, pulling open the box of Sour Worms without looking down. You do wind up looking down, however, to bite one in half because it just so happened to be a blue and orange combo, and you hated the orange side.

“Here.” Leon turns to look at you- your eyes coming up to meet his blue ones that are oddly blue enough to the point that any light from the screen makes them pop. Pretty.

“The orange half. I know you don’t like them.” His voice is husky and low since the speakers are blaring some generic string-quartet horror piece. He nods down to the half chewed candy in your palm.

You pinch it between your fingers, bringing it to his mouth as your cunt throbs. He was expecting you to hand it to him, but the way you confidentially yet instinctively brought it to his lips isn’t entirely unwelcome. The emptiness of the theater makes it that way. Allows room for incest of whatever. He opens his mouth for you, and you go to place the sour treat on his tongue. His lips gently close around it, before he grabs your wrist to hold your arm in place. A hold gentle enough to tell you that if you want to snatch your hand away- feel free to do so. But you don’t. And you won’t. He knows.

Candy in cheek, he brings your fingers to his lips and nurses your knuckles with a kiss before puppeteering your hand with his larger one, working each digit so that he can equally suck each one clean. You’re amazed, aroused, and alarmed all at the same time. Amazed because he looks so gorgeous sucking on your fingers. Aroused for the obvious reason. Alarmed because duh, he’s your father and things can only go further from here.

Leon places your hand back onto the arm rest between you, chewing the halved sour worm now. As if he didn’t just give you the most visually appealing form of sexual affection in the history of womankind. The dryness of your mouth returns and you take another sip of your Cherry soda. Maybe you can drown yourself in it. No, stupid. That’s what the public bathroom toilets are for.

Right before you set the plastic cup into the cupholder again, Leon speaks.

“Ah, ah. Put it over there.” You don’t even hesitate to listen. Record timing for you doing anything. You don’t even know why you followed his instructions so quick.

“Good girl.” His words send lightning of excitement down your nerves and straight to your clit as he pushes the armrest between you upwards and out of the way. Because that’s a thing, for some reason. It’s like theaters want people to fuck, give head, and spread their diseases everywhere. And why does he know they move? You don’t even want to question it. Maybe he’s just a knowledgeable guy.

“Come here, honey. Let daddy kiss that pretty mouth.” Fucking Christ. This can’t be real. Doesn’t matter, ‘cause again, there’s zero hesitation on your part. Leon likes that. A woman that can follow orders. He’s so used to taking them, not giving them. And your mom isn’t one to listen to other people. Either way, if this goes south, Leon can always just off himself. He wasn’t around much so what difference would it make if he was permanently gone? The reassurance of being able to log out forever gives him courage here. It’s rational.

You scoot over since you’re free from any barriers or restrictions, and he puts an arm over you. You swear you almost hear your skin sizzle from the contact. You’re not a witch- and as far as you know, he’s not water. Even if he gets you wet. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and swipe a thumb over your bottom lip- teasing you.

“D-dad.” You stutter a protest- cringing that you sounded the way you did just now. Maybe you shouldn’t be embarrassed ‘cause he’s your dad- but you are embarrassed ‘cause he’s hot. You can’t even figure out why you wanna back out suddenly. Probably because the idea was better than betraying your mom and knowing yourself as someone who fucks their dad. Anywho- didn’t he say something about kissing you? Cause he’s not even doing as promised.

Your dad leans in, his free hand is now on your neck and angling it just to show you how easy he can manhandle your body. He plants a kiss on your earlobe before saying anything.

“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t go giving daddy blue-balls now. It’s not polite to start things you don’t wanna finish.”

Leon’s words simultaneously gross you out and turn you on in a self-deprecating, disgusting kind of way. Not to mention he’s literally contradicting himself since he would gladly eat the half of the sour worms you didn’t want to finish- therefore entirely enabling you to start things you couldn’t finish. Hm. That must explain a large portion of your life, then. And besides all do that, doesn’t the know blue-balls is some kinda stupid myth or whatever?

His thumb falls down your lip and traces your jawline with intentional slowness while his eyes look over your face appreciatively- but it also seems as if he’s looking for or at something specific.

You get the courage to speak, air sucked fully into your lungs.

“Sorry, daddy.” The fuck is wrong with you? You could have said anything but that. It’ll only spur him on. But you want that, obviously.

He smirks, lips pressed together as the corners of his mouth do that same, pitted thing they do that you like so much. Must go hand in hand with how his chin is also dimpled. It’s sexy. But little do you know, it’s one of the reasons he keeps his stubble. Doesn’t feel like having his butt chin on display to the world- even if every woman that’s ever laid eye on him sees it and wants it buried in their cunt.

“That’s my girl. Didn’t even have to be around much to teach you that, did I?” Leon queries, grabbing your chin to crane your head just so that he can plant his lips onto your neck. His other hand is on your knee, unmoving. You want it to move, though. God- you’re sure whatever higher power is in the great sky is throwing up right now, moments away from pressing the reset button. The same higher power will make a new rule on humanity.

No free will and absolutely no incest. Yeah. Probably should have written that into the books ages ago, one fears.

You fidget as he kisses your neck, stubble scratching your epidermis yet tickling all the same.

“Not gonna answer me, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your throat, the neck kiss he gives it uses a bit of tongue- making your body jolt. “I know your mother taught you manners.”’

You mumble something pathetically apologetic, hands gripping the fabric over his shoulders. Hopefully your mom won’t notice his shirt being stretched out there- cause she notices everything.

“N-no, daddy. I knew it on my own.” You huff, that hand you wanted him to move is slowly doing so- fingers dragging along your inner thigh as if everything he’s doing to you is purposefully meant to be some kind of forewarning. But for what, exactly?

“Such a smart girl. Get that from daddy, you know it?” Ok, cocky…

Leon kisses his way back up your neck, jawbone, and then your cheek. It’s sweet- if being lavished with saccharine, sexual and inappropriate attention from your dad could be sweet.

You nod, feeling his grip loosen from your chin and now sliding up the back of your neck to tangle in your hair, threading it. He’s slow and deliberate- part of you wishes he’d not give you time to think about your actions. Not that you can really think anyways. Your heartbeat is muddled in your ears and the movie is still rumbling through the speakers while someone gets murdered on screen. Lucky them.

The hand on your thigh presses firmer into the skin just below the edge of your shorts, a silent telling for you to keep your attention on him.

“Sorry baby, daddy got distracted. Just so pretty.” He must be able to tell you’re impatient because he kisses your cheek (with an oddly dark undertone to it) before slimming the distance between your lips. He pauses right when they touch and you’re breathing in the taste-turned-scent of the sour worm you fed him earlier. Sugar and that weird orange flavor that is only specific to orange candy. You’re obviously not a fan, but it suits him.

You don’t get any time left to process before it’s a full on kiss- well, make out, actually. It’s slow. You can’t recall being kissed like this, ever. Normally it’s straight to tongue with guys, and not in, like, the good way. The ‘having an eel invading your oral cavity’ kind of way. Eugh.

But your dad’s tongue does brush yours, tastefully. You can actually feel the texture and it’s easy to tell there’s an erection fueling his actions- but not so much so that it takes over the whole kiss.

He uses your hair to pull you closer, teeth clashing momentarily. Not exactly the best feeling but everything else envelops your senses to the point that it’s only a flash of a moment. Your thigh is neglected by his touch, hand moving up and around onto your backside. He gives a squeeze to the fat of your ass and groans against your mouth before pulling you into his lap- legs folded on either side of his thighs.

You break the kiss, looking over your shoulder and to where the entrance is- the exit sign casting a nearby glow that gives you anxiety..

“Can’t- we’ll get caught.” You pant, that weird feeling that’s the grotesque love child of nervousness and excitement is swimming in your gut like a parasite before settling. The severity and realness of the situation sinks in.

Leon laughs low and mean, retracting his hand from your hair and moving to run it through the top of your scalp to push it back. He juts his hips upwards to prod his denimed erection into the cunt of your shorts. You mewl quietly, or maybe it was loud. The movie is just too deafening to distinguish which.

“Suppose you’re right, baby.” He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, leaning in to give you a light peck on the lips. “Told you you’re a smart girl, didn’t I? Can’t let me go around thinking with my dick, huh?”

His hand pats your thigh as if to tell you to get off.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Up.” He commands you with a huffed voice- not because he’s annoyed but because he’s a middle-aged man. Moving is hard. You ignominiously climb off of his lap, putting your bottom back onto the seat next to him. He’s looking at you, meandering a hand back onto your thigh just to rest in place.

You stare at the screen- but you can’t even register it because you’re too disassociated from what just happened. You almost want to beg him to fuck you right here- plead for forgiveness that you suggested stopping in the first place. And you can still taste that damned orange sour worm in your mouth.

Leon behaves, though. He’s good about that. Respectful. In the way of consent- not in the way of not tongue fucking his daughter in a public space. When the movie ends, he gestures for you to stand and you walk past him, carrying your empty cup and boxes of sour worms while the uncomfortable feeling of your slick clinging the gusset of your panties to your cunt. You look back at your father, the sight of him in the palely lit theater is a bit intimidating. He’s adjusting his pants for obvious reasons. You look away quickly and keep walking- a giddy feeling of satisfaction overcoming you. Shortly enough, you’re both back in the main area of the mall. You brush your shirt out and fix your hair- the thought occurs to you that maybe you look a little mussed and should have straightened up sooner.

But the daylight beaming through the sky roof brings you back to your senses.

“Hmm. What does my sweet girl want to get up to now?” Leon asks, intersecting his arms as he looks over you.

You think, mind fizzling as it short circuits. You almost smell smoke emanating from your head, too. How can you look him in the face right now?

“Uhh..” You really don’t know what to say. What can you focus on doing after everything that’s happened today?

“How about this? We can go home a little early and I’ll cook something up for lunch. The drive will give us time to work up an appetite.” He says, nonchalant. Right back to his same fatherly tone from earlier today instead of the ‘I want to split you open with my dick’ tone he had moments ago. Maybe he’s just being sweet and you’re overthinking.

You’re befuddled that he’s not saying anything else about… that. How can he so easily go from publicly groping you to acting cheery and normal? It’s frustrating. Disturbing even. Leon can see the disappointment on your face- but you don’t know that. You assume it’s well hidden, just like the fact you kissed your own father. He thinks it’s cute though. You’re just cock dumb for him. On the other hand, this whole situation is something he has to deal with.

“Got it.” You manage to say, walking a little faster than he does. This is the second time you’ve walked off from your dad, and it does irritate him because he can’t keep up like he used to. Displaced disc in his spine or whatever. Plus, he thinks you’re pissed. Which is worrying. Should have known better than to mess around with his own daughter, he supposes.

The drive back is silent and less terrifying than the previous, part of you thankful. Maybe he was only a bad driver in the morning. Unlikely, but not impossible. Maybe it was the fact that he drank whiskey with his breakfast. Hm. ‘Responsible’ in hindsight.

It’s still early in the afternoon when you arrive back home. The concrete is sizzling from the heat and the sun beats down way too uncomfortably for even a walk from the driveway to the front door.

Leon side-steps you to unlock the house before he urges you in. He may be morally reprehensible but he still didn’t want to let any cool air out- AC’s expensive. You plop down on the couch and he locks the door, walking past you and straight to the kitchen.

The tension is thick for you- but for Leon- not at all. You watch him disappear through the doorway as he goes to prep food. Why is it so hard to read his emotions? He’s like a fucking light switch. You’re annoyed- leaning back on the couch, until he calls for you. You’re quick to get up, scrambling into the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetheart. Mind giving me a hand?”

“Yeah. What is it?” You faintly cock your head to the side.

Leon looks to the side- directly at you. You’re cute when you’re confused. He can tell that all you’re thinking about is continuing where you two left off earlier. Shit, you’re no better than your mother. ‘S just that you’re not crabby and sour all the time like she is.

“Can you grab the saucepan from the bottom cabinet. Your old dad can’t exactly bend over too well.” He laughs- shaking his head. Yes, dad. I get it. I know you have a bad back.

You walk over to the cabinet where he’s leaned onto one hand which is rested on the marbled countertop. You feel a bit apprehensive to be close to him again. Mostly because you don’t trust yourself to not jump his bones, but Leon’s already ahead of you. As soon as you bend over, he pulls you back by the hips so that your ass is flush with his groin.

You’re taken aback but definitely not surprised. He’s a dirty old man, as you’ve learned.

“Gonna let daddy fuck this pussy now, or are you getting flaky on me?” He coos against your ear while he runs his hands up your sides and down again- creeping his hands to your front and over the buttons of your shorts- unhooking them through the slits.

“Yes.. want it.” You breathe in quick- the word coming out on its own. If god could hear you right now, he’d set your house ablaze with lightning.

“Need you to loosen up if I’m going to. You’re way too stiff.” Your shorts are the opposite of you, loose and unfastened fully so they fall to your ankles, and Leon nudges your feet apart with his boot. You realize he’s got a point as you feel his calloused hand glide down your hip and yank you in place. The other hand is spreading your pussy lips apart before finding that fleshy bud between them. A moan rumbles in your throat as your legs almost give out below you. He mutters a curse under his breath, and you realize his cock is now out while he rubs up against your ass- getting off on not only playing with your pussy but from dry humping you.

“Fucking christ. Got the prettiest ass, baby. Think daddy needs to see it bouncing on his cock.” You can practically feel that stupid, smug look as he grabs his dick- slapping it on your ass. It makes you cringe a little, but maybe you should be cringing at the fact your dad is the one doing it. You figure it’s just something he saw in porn, so it doesn’t leave your expectations high at the moment. Great. Leon adjusted himself back into his pants, for now.

His finger continues circling that bundle of nerves, your legs shaky as you’re being pressed into the counter, a hand is on your lower back to keep you down so he can do what he wants. You sound stupid- tears welling in your eyes as you babble nonsensically about wanting to cum. He moves his hand off of your back and sinks to his knees to be face level with you (even if it makes his back hurt a little), sliding his fingers up your inner thigh until there’s a digit prodding your hole, slowly pushing in.

He watches your cunt swallow his finger, barely able to fit it inside.

“Fucking shit, baby. Gonna have to stretch this pussy out if I want my cock in you, huh? Think you can let daddy do that?” He asks, breathy and sounding like he’s trying not to bust all over himself.

You eagerly shake your head.

“Yes, daddy. Need you to get me loose.” The words spill like a hot cup of tea from your lips, scalding Leon with desire.

“God damned. Such a polite fucking girl I’ve got. Might have to eat your mother out later to thank her for making you so respectful.”

You scrunch your face in disgust.

“That’s fucking gross.” You moan, Leon slipping a second finger into you, which should technically feel like four with how worn and big his hands are.

He tuts, planting a kiss to your asscheek.

“Now, didn’t daddy just compliment you? Could be a bit more grateful since he’s trying to make you cum” He grits, sounding a bit (terrifyingly) stern.

You apologize again.

“Sorry, daddy. Just don’t wanna hear about you and mom. Makes me jealous.” You admit, briefly thinking about their dinner conversation last night. Then about how fucking weird you are. You’re really hoping you get the courage to bash your head on the marble countertop and get amnesia.

Leon laughs, but in a way that makes you think he’s amused more than actually laughing.

“God. Want me to stop fucking my own wife just ‘cause you’ve got a needy pussy?” A third finger slips in, making an almost unbearable stretch as you feel a slight ache, but the previous two fingers already did enough work that it’s not completely unbearable.

“Maybe you’re not that grateful. Giving you three fingers here and she’s still too tight.” He twists his hand, letting the inside of you feel every inch of his knuckles and calluses. Your knuckles, however, are ghost-white as you grip at nothing.

“Maybe your fingers are just too small.” You say- mostly from built up tension and annoyance that you didn’t get to let out yet. But you regret the words.

He’s silent- which scares you. He pulls his fingers out of you- the stark contrast in emptiness is clear and the cool air stings you.

Leon groans as he stands up, kicking off his boots before yanking you by the arms to stand straight. He leans into your ear.

“C’mon. You’re gonna come sit on daddy’s dick, since you’re too fucking picky.” Goosebumps form all over you as he leads you to the couch. Leon leaves you standing there so he can get comfortable and discard his clothing, lying back with his hands behind his head. You make a mental note of how his biceps look with his arms bent in this position, even if you kinda feel like it’s lazy. But holy fuck, his toned stomach is perfect- sprinkled with a happy trail that will definitely lead you somewhere that will make you happy. Speaking of, his dick is nice. Fat. Not sure how big it is since you have not much to compare to, but you’d imagine taking it would be a bit of a proper challenge.

You step a little closer- crawling awkwardly over his lap- ass faced towards him so that you settle on his waist. It’s hard not to feel self conscious about your backside in this position, even considering the fact that he was just fingering you from the back moments ago. You’re mostly just upset you can’t gawk at his tits or stomach.

You grab him by the base, shifting yourself to hover directly over him, letting the tip graze your wet hole before slowly sinking down- a drawn out moan escaping you.

“Fuckkk. That’s it. Sit down on it. Take all of daddy.” You glance over your shoulder as you bottom him out; his eyes are half-lidded. Well, at least he’s got a pretty face while you’re fucking him. You almost failed to realize his hands moved from behind his head to your ass- gliding up your back and down again.

You take a moment to adjust, breathing shakily ‘cause his dick is so fat you think you might die. Or maybe you’re having a heart attack at your ripe age.

“Didn’t tell you to take any breaks, did I baby?” You’re annoyed at his pushiness, but you did have a bit of a sour attitude earlier. So you can only blame yourself.

You’re not sure how to entirely do this, but you move yourself up and down. Not at a fast pace, yet. Just that savoring your dad’s dick seems like a reasonable ordeal.

He doesn’t shut up, though. You’re learning just how much he likes to talk- as if he just wants to hear himself. Is he even getting off on you or the sound of his own voice? It makes you roll your eyes even if you do like hearing him say dirty shit.

"That’s my girl. So fucking good. Ride it nice and slow... Work that sweet pussy on daddy's cock.” You just might fall over dead hearing him say any of it- it’s disgusting but sweet Jesus are you eating it up. He must know it too because of how you clench around him involuntarily when he talks like that.

“You like when daddy praises you? Yeah, you love me telling you how good you are.” His words are husky and yet pleased with the previous tidbit of information.

“See how nice I am? Letting you sit on my cock after you made me wait earlier. Wasn’t very nice of you, now was it, baby?” His words have an underlyingly mocking tone, but you’d do anything to make him change it.

“No, daddy. Was really mean of me.” You whine pitifully, bouncing yourself on his dick like it’s your major in college and you’re trying to pass with flying colors.

“I know, baby. But daddy forgives you.” He murmurs, sitting up with you still on top of him. He’s flush against your back now- reaching in front of you to make those same tight circles on your clit. You both exchange your pitchy moans and his grunting and groaning- working up to a good point in both of your impending orgasms.

“Gonna cum in this pussy, got it? Daddy doesn’t like to pull out.”

You scramble a bit, squirming on his lap.

“Fuck, dad! You can’t do that!” You whine as his other arm holds you onto him- wrapped around your stomach. Your nails dig into his forearms, hopefully not leaving noticeable scratches.

“I think I can, baby. You’re squeezing me at the idea- I’m not fucking stupid.” He’s quick to be mean again, but you’d be a liar to say you’d don’t want him to cum in you. And you’re not a liar, that’s just deplorable- coming from someone who is literally fucking their dad with enough energy to power a small village for a month. And yet, you don’t stop riding him.

And your silence tells it all.

“Yeah- my baby wants a nice creampie.” He sounds more strained now, letting go of his hold on your stomach and using his hand to now guide you to roll your hips on him.

Sweat beads down Leon’s forehead, bangs sticking to his face as he watches your ass grinding against his lap.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that. I’m gonna cream this tight fucking pussy. Want that, don’t you? ‘Cause daddy’s gonna give it to you whether you want it or not.”

You should be a little more upset or concerned in any regard right now, but the last two days have made you into a proper whore to the point that you don’t even give a shit. Self respect crawled itself into a space shuttle and launched off of the planet, probably to never be seen again. Stuck in orbit, if you will.

You’re sucked out of the motions when Leon speaks again.

“Stop, stop.” He pats your bottom.

“Turn around, baby. I wanna see your face. Wanna kiss those lips while you’re on my dick.” Your stomach flutters with nervousness and a sickly sweet feeling. You lifted yourself from him with a trail of arousal to follow and maneuvered to turn around- this time he was holding his cock ready for you. Moments went by of you staring, getting a proper look of him since everything had been a quick blur so far.

“Come on, baby. Need you to mount daddy’s cock again. Told you I wanted to kiss you, didn’t I?” He exhaled, sounding a bit pent up. Jeez- seconds without pussy and he’s getting upset. Maybe he needs a therapist and anger management, not his college-aged daughter spearing herself on him.

You replied, yes, daddy. Sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you wait, daddy.

You dropped yourself down onto him once more- only this time it was easier since you were able to get accustomed to his dick.

“Start moving sweetheart, make daddy cum.” He instructed, leaning in to take you in a kiss. It was more dirty than the last kiss, somehow. His tongue slipped between your lips- Leon lifted you with his hands on your waist before jutting his hips up to slam his cock snugly into your heat, groaning against your mouth delightfully.

His teeth nipped your lower lip- giving you a little further taste of just what kind of lover he is. Or maybe this is just the version you get. Either way, you can’t complain in any area. You feel lucky to receive even a sliver of it.

The familiar roughness of his thumb returns to your already throbbing bud- circling at the same pace he’s now moving at. Despite his age, he seems awfully enthusiastic to do strenuous work involving his hips. Bad back, my ass. Or maybe he’s able to put that on the back burner to please you. Probably worried if he doesn’t give you good dick then you’ll go tattle on him.

Leon didn’t break the kiss whatsoever while he pounded into you ruthlessly, he swallowed up every moan and noise you made like it was alcohol. ‘Cause that was his favorite, obviously.

When he pulled his mouth off of yours, a trail of saliva lingered- stretching out while you giggled on top of him. Something about you laughing almost made him nut immediately, but he held out just to prolong this and let it engrain into his mind for certain.

“Got the prettiest baby- look so good on my cock like this. Want daddy to bust in that pretty pussy?” He asked, looking for your approval.

“Uh-huh. Need daddy to knock me up.” The words came from god knows where, making even your eyes look bewildered for a second.

Leon laughed darkly at you.

“God, baby. Daddy’s so fucking close.” He muttered stupidly, almost like he was drunk. At least this could be an ego boost for you- but the fact it was your dad canceled that out. Dick only counts if it’s from someone that’s not related to you. His eyes did that half-lidded thing from earlier that you found so hot, and he pulled you down onto his cock one last time, spilling thick ropes into your blood-related hole. His dick pulsed as he let out a muted grunt, head lolling back and his adam's apple on full, stubbly display. You could bite it, just like a real apple.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moaned. Jeez. He was a whore, honestly. The way he made noises and didn’t shut the fuck up was honestly… a case that should be studied. Maybe he had been turned out a time or two himself.

His cock didn’t soften though, nor did he not forget about you cumming. He lifted his head back up, looking down at where his thumb was. It was almost like he read your thoughts, not saying a word as he concentrated on making you cum. ‘Cause earlier he had been too eager to get in you and you were too eager to get on him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders (hopefully your mom wouldn’t notice any marks on him when she gets home from work later) and he gently fucked into you while you received proper attention on your aching clit. The combination of his dick keeping you full and the sensation of his digit sent you throbbing through your orgasm around him- low curses and other disgusting things coming out of both your mouths.

‘Cause you’re both disgusting.

[blockgamepirate]

This is my petty complaint time, this video annoys me SO MUCH and even more so what annoys me is that the latest comment on it is this:

HE TAUGHT YOU SO MUCH BULLSHIT, PLEASE NO, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM

And yes, I've been thinking about this stream for nearly three years now, I've been meaning to go through it to critique Wilbur's arguments, I just never got around to it

Wilbur: "Tubbo, you've created an anti-state capitalist dystopia"

So all Tubbo had explained so far was that his town had a big company that owned two other big companies. Nothing about the government or anything. It's true that one company owning all the major businesses is pretty dystopian, sure, but I have no idea where Wilbur got the "anti-state" thing from, usually capitalist companies are fine with the existence of states, states do a lot of dirty work for the capitalists

Spoiler alert: Tubbo's city turns out to be pretty much a city state so Wilbur is just wrong anyway, not that he ever acknowledges it even when it does come up

Also it's not like corporate acquisitions are completely unheard of in the UK, as far as I know. Admittedly the UK is also arguably a capitalist dystopia but you know what I mean, the concept shouldn't be all that shocking to Wilbur

He's being so dramatic and trying to make it sound like he's caught Tubbo in a mistake or something. He also keeps asking questions and then not letting Tubbo answer properly before taking like one word Tubbo says and running with it

But this is the one that I find the most obnoxious:

T: "I did some research into like economics and stuff and I discovered this thing called UBI, have you heard of it?"

W: "What's it stand for?"

T: "Universal Basic Income"

W: "Yeah, I know about that"

He clearly does not know what UBI is.

It becomes very apparent very quickly:

W: "So you've got universal basic income but then also the rich exist still?"

T: "Yeah! Yeah they do."

W: "How does that come about then,"

T: "So in my mind--"

W: "is this universal basic income different for different people?"

T: "No, no, the universal basic income is better for everyone, just the people who have--"

W: "In order for there to be a 1% that means someone's earning more,"

T: "Yes, someone is earning more"

W: "but that means the universal basic income isn't universal!"

T: "No no no, not everyone's getting paid the same but everyone gets the same to begin with, okay? But then you can build on top of it."

W: "Oh no, you've got a-- Tubbo, you've got a fucking social point system!"

T: "Have I made a social point system??"

W: "Tubbo, you've made China!"

None of what Wilbur says makes ANY sense here. The only explanation I can think of is that he didn't know what UBI was, made an assumption that it just meant "everybody gets paid the same amount of money" or something like that and then just spoke fast enough that Tubbo couldn't correct him

Tubbo is correct here, Tubbo knows what he's talking about, but he can't out-speak Wilbur who is just throwing so much bullshit out of his mouth that there's no time to even respond

So, UBI means that everyone in the society gets a regular payment of a specific amount of money that's the same for everyone regardless of their life situation (and generally a requirement would be that it has to be enough to live on, altho people do like to water this down a lot...) This would be completely irrelevant to your wages or salary or capital gains. You can choose to either live on the UBI or you can just do the regular capitalist things to earn extra money on top of the UBI

Obviously I'm not one of those people who think that UBI would solve all of world's problems, I mean I am an anarchist and all (and not an ancap either), but it's literally just a very streamlined welfare system. That's all. It would probably be a lot better than the current models we have but it's not fundamentally different. There's nothing particularly weird about it, the point is just to make sure that everyone has enough money to live on, in every other regard it's just normal capitalism

Wilbur completely misunderstands the whole thing (because, again, he does not know what UBI is so he's just trying to imagine what it might mean based on what Tubbo is saying) and jumps immediately to something he apparently has heard of, which is the Chinese social credit system, which has nothing to do with UBI. In fact I'm pretty sure it also doesn't actually have anything to do with income either, or at least not directly, so I don't think Wilbur knows what the social credit system is either

He's literally just talking in buzzwords

Like if you actually wanted to make a leftist critique of Tubbo's city, you could, don't get me wrong. But instead Wilbur keeps insisting that he's made a social point system despite Tubbo trying to explain why it's not that at all

Wilbur just keeps yelling over Tubbo until his own chat turns against him and finally Tubbo himself also kinda gives up

And from there Tubbo also kinda just starts playing into the bit and just lets Wilbur direct the whole conversation, the rest of it is just them getting more and more into the roleplay. Wilbur keeps talking about the state pension plan, even though Tubbo already tried to explain that it's part of the UBI (this actually is how UBI is supposed to work, it does indeed streamline most of the welfare spending! Obviously you can still raise questions about that (I can think of a few at least) but Wilbur didn't let Tubbo explain so I have no idea what Tubbo actually had in mind)

I could try to go through all of what Wilbur says here but it's just too much, so maybe some other time. Although to be honest there are so many other streams that I probably should talk about instead that some fans unfortunately took a bit too seriously because they assumed Wilbur knew what he was talking about

My point here is mainly that just because someone sounds really confident and knows a bunch of buzzwords doesn't mean they know what they're talking about.

[luvhughes43]

don’t have to pretend | blake hughes au

blake hughes au

summary: how blake hughes and nico hischier finally confess their feelings for each other

word count: 4.1k

“Nico, you know you don’t have to keep coming over anymore,” Blake whispered. she had been thinking a lot about their relationship lately, or lack thereof. she didn’t know how much longer she could take being so incredibly infatuated with him but unable to say anything. 

Nico looked confused, like the idea of not coming over to visit Blake was incomprehensible. Blake stared at Nico, waiting for him to respond. she hoped he would say that he wanted to be with her, that he had feelings for her… anything to suggest that he wasn’t just here to make her brothers playing less sloppy. she had watched the games, she knew that Jack was struggling and the reason was probably her. 

“I want to come over,” Nico finally responded, and although that's what Blake wanted to hear it wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would be. 

They both sat in silence for a moment, drinking hot chocolates out of mugs decorated with little ice skates. “yeah but, if you’re here just because of Jack then-”

“I’m not,” Nico butted in. They both stared at each other. 

“Right well,” Blake was the first to shift away from Nico’s heated gaze, uncomfortable in whatever awkward tension she had just created. 

Nico cursed himself in his mind. She doesn’t want you like that, he kept repeating over and over again. Although, no matter how many times he told himself that Blake wasn’t interested in him, he would still hold out on any string of hope that he had. 

They had really connected over the few months that they had gotten to know each other, and either would be damned if they let that all go to waste. So, they both held on without knowing that the other person felt the exact same way. 

*

“You're going to get cold,” Jack had pointed out to Blake as he picked her up to go out. but of course, she decided against better judgement and had decided to wear her sluttiest top without any form of coverup so that she wouldn’t chicken out.

Jack hadn’t mentioned Blakes tiny top, and so she counted it as a win that his critique came in the form of needing something warm. “Like, I'm seriously not going to give you my jacket when you start complaining,” he continued with the roll of his eyes. 

“If all goes well tonight i won't need your jacket,” Blake had rebutted to Jack's distaste. 

“Yeah well, with your luck you're going to be single forever so I'll be waiting for you to complain about the cold,” Jack teased. 

“Right and… where’s your girlfriend?” Blake played into the sibling banter. “Last I saw your ex was on a lingerie mag and here you are… coming over to your sister's place before going out so she can help you pick out an outfit….” 

“Right, okay I'm done fighting now!” Jack said, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. “But seriously, do these pants match with this top,”

“You're wearing black skinny jeans, anything you wear is going to match, now go!” Blake responded, shooing Jack out of her apartment and into the hallway. She looked at her reflection in the mirror one last time before leaving, making a mental note to put on some more lip gloss in the car. 

“Who are you trying to impress anyway?” Jack had shouted once he and Blake got inside the bar. He was trying to find his teammates among the crowd, but it was no luck.

“None of your business!” she shouted back, catching the boy of her affections eye from across the bar. “Nico’s over there!” she yelled, turning to her brother who was already being pulled into conversation by somebody else. It seemed like fate was on Blake's side as she made long strides over to Nico who was, luckily, alone. 

Nico looked hot, and god… the things Blake wanted to do to him… she should be locked up. 

Blake wasn’t the only one appreciating the view though, because Nico was very clearly checking out his teammate's sister. His eyes trailed down Blakes face and onto her top, and if Blake had noticed him shift in his seat she hadn’t said anything. 

“You look good tonight!” Nico had leaned over so that Blake could hear him through the loud music. Blakes face burned at his comment, and she was glad that the bar's lighting was dim otherwise it would be very obvious that she liked her brother's captain. although, liked seemed like a very meager word when her whole world turned upside down upon seeing his dimples. 

“And you look very handsome!” Blake had turned her head close to his. She was going to need a few drinks if she was going to be this close to him all night. Especially, when all his teammates were here. 

Nicos face lit up with a smile, and Blakes immediately matched it with a bright smile of her own. 

“Sit beside me,” Nico said, pulling out the last empty chair beside him. He was still waiting for his drink. 

Blake easily complied, smoothly sliding the bar stool as close to Nico as was possible without raising suspicions. “So….” 

“Soo…” Nico copied Blake, both giggling at each other. They were two lovesick fools and yet, they didn’t recognize that the other was also helplessly in love. 

“So, how have you been?” Blake smiled, leaning an elbow onto the bar so that she was even closer to the brown eyed man. She was so down bad…

“I’ve been good, just waiting for a pretty girl to come sit with me, you?” he replied flirtatiously. 

“I’m really good! just waiting for a hot man to order me a drink…” she trailed off, focusing her gaze away from Nico and back to the bar staff.

“What do you want?” he said, already pulling out his wallet. 

A bartender came over to their section, dropping off a cold beer in front of Nico while offering all sorts of apologies for the wait time. He waved the waiter ramblings off, and instead looked towards Blake for her order. 

“A vodka cran,” she told the bartender, “double shot” 

Nico had handed over the cash. 

After some more harmless flirting, Nico led Blake back to the team’s table where she was greeted by everyone. 

“Nice outfit,” one of the boys piped up, eyes trailing down Blakes body. she was wearing some jeans and a tight corset top that pushed her boobs up just right…

“Don’t talk to my sister,” Jack huffed, swatting the guy in the chest. 

At Jack's words, your eyes immediately turned to catch Nico’s who was already staring at you. He looked torn, and before you could make any sort of move to question him he was shuffling chairs and sitting as far away from Jack as was possible. 

All night, Blake had been trying to catch Nico’s attention from down the table. He barely glanced in her direction for the rest of the night, and now she was afraid that when he did she’d start to cry. She felt so pathetic as the other guy's attention fell to her chest, reminding her that the guy she was trying to get wanted nothing to do with her at this moment. 

“I'm going to get another drink,” Blake said as she swirled the ice around in her cup. Jack nodded at her, and then she was walking towards the bar by herself.

Blake let the bartender make her “something special”, and she sat at the bar watching him pour a shit ton of juice and gin into her cup.

“Hey, you new here?” Some guy, blond and skinny sat in one of the many available seats next to Blake.

“uh no i’m not. Is that your opening line?” she huffed, giving the bartender a tip when she finally came back with her drink. Yes, Blake was being rude to the guy but she wanted nothing more than to be alone. Something that was impossible to happen in a bar at 1am. 

“Uh, can I have this dance?” The guy tried to correct himself, and Blake cringed as a mix of two songs from 2010 blared through the bars speakers. 

“No you cant-” Blake said, just as her head turned just enough for her to see a girl approach Nico. she couldn’t make out what they were saying, just that he was smiling in the same way he was earlier.  

“Actually,” Blake corrected herself, and the blond guy turned to his group of friends as if to say “i told you so, girls cant resist my charm…” 

the girl touched Nicos arm… “I’ll dance with you!” Blake forced a smile onto her face, turning back to the bar one last time to take a large swig out of her drink.

The blond guy grabbed her hand, and with a deep breath Blake let herself be dragged onto the dance floor which was coincidentally right beside the table filled with her brother's friends. 

The blond guy, who still didn't have a name, spun Blake around so that her back was against his front. she tried to lean back into him, but it all felt so wrong. 

The guy guided her hips, and her face heated up in shame as her brother's teammates started turning their attention towards her. 

Blake turned herself back around, now facing the guy who brought her to dance. they swayed together for a few more minutes, and as soon as the next song finished Blake was immediately bidding her goodbyes. 

She rushed over to the table, ignoring the blond guy's shouts for her snap. she grabbed her purse from her brother's chair. “Can we please leave Jack,” she practically yelled in his ear. 

he turned to his sister with a look of concern in his eyes. “Did he do something..?” he said, gesturing to the guy from earlier who was now retreating back to his group of friends. 

Blake shook her head. “I think i’m getting a headache,” 

Jack stood up then, waving to his teammates as he bid them all goodbyes. 

Nico had tried to catch Blakes eyes, but she refused to look in his direction.

By the time she and Jack got out to the car, she could feel tears of frustration threatening to fall. She had to keep her head glued to the window so as to not raise any suspicions with Jack, who was well… oblivious to all things that weren't in his direct line of sight. 

“Thanks for driving me home!” her words were rushed as she scrambled out of his car. “I’ll call you in the morning!” 

When her apartment door slammed shut behind her, Blake broke out into quiet sobs. She just wanted the mood from seeing Nico at the bar to continue for the rest of the night. It seemed that despite how hard she tried, nothing would ever come out of whatever she and Nico had going on. 

*

When Blake was 15, she had dated this guy who had lived a few doors down from her. The relationship didn’t last long, but sometimes Blake liked to think about the boy who broke her heart. Usually at night, usually when she was upset, and usually when she had nothing better to do than upset herself with her own life's events.

He had been nice at first, someone Jack had talked to a few times when he was out playing street hockey. She couldn't remember if Ryder had ever joined Jack and her brothers games, but that didn’t matter much anyway. 

What mattered was Blake overhearing him tell his group of friends that the only reason he was dating her was because she was going to compete in the olympics. 

“she’s like, the perfect girlfriend to have,” he had said to his friends. “i never have to see her, she's a champion, and like, I can make out with her and shit whenever i want,”

The last part hurt the most. Ryder was the first guy she had ever kissed and really been with. She didn’t have time to have boyfriends that weren’t always at the rink or the gym. Her seeking out Ryder and being with him was her own little act of deviance. 

Now that she’d gone to enough therapy sessions though, she was sure that the reason she wasn’t upset that he was with her because of her titles was because she wanted to be with herself because of her titles. When she was younger, she was solely defined by her medals. Therefore, it came to no surprise to Blake that her relationships would be defined by her achievements too. 

Anyway, that didn’t stop her crying to her older brother about the whole thing. 

She had bursted through Quinn’s door, tears silently streaming down her face as she fell face first onto his bed. He had brushed her hair from her face, asking her what was wrong. 

“He’s using me,” she had said, and Quinn looked upset enough for the both of them. 

“He’s such a fucking asshole,” he had said, looking at his younger sister with so much pity. “He doesn’t deserve somebody like you,” 

At the time, Blake wasn’t sure what “somebody like you,” had meant. All her life she was defined by her skills, her body, her wins and loses… she wished figure skating and relationships didn’t have to be so difficult. 

She hadn’t seen Ryder again after that. She had made no effort to go and see him, and Blake could’ve sworn she saw him slowly sneaking back inside his house whenever her brothers would go outdoors. 

Now at 20, Blake lays in her bed and reminisces on all the shitty parts of her life with a new lens. She remembers Ryder and how he had used her, her coach and how she forced Blake to compete through injuries, and then her mind turned to Nico. who hadn't necessarily done anything to hurt Blake but his lack of action made her feel pathetic. 

How is it that a man can flirt with you at a bar, make you believe for weeks that he truly likes you, and then refuse to make eye contact with you later? 

Blake’s head spun like one of those spins she used to practice. She had thought of calling Quinn but then what? She had already told him how convinced she was that Nico had liked her. It would just be embarrassing now to have to tell him that now she wasn’t so sure.

So, Blake did what she did best, wallowed in her own self-pity until she eventually drifted off into sleep.

*

A few days later Nico came knocking on Blakes door. She wasn’t surprised to see him, but she had already decided that she shouldn’t talk to him anymore. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come over anymore,” she had told him. She hadn’t let him step through the threshold of her apartment, and she hadn’t changed her mind under his soft gaze. 

“But… Blake?”

“Nico, I'm really busy right now. There's a lot of stuff that i’m going through and I cant handle-”

“You can’t handle hanging out with me?” he had said, voice quiet. 

Blake had to look away from his pointed gaze, wanting nothing more than to just confess her feelings. But if Nico did like her like she thought he did, then his reaction to what Jack had said at the bar a few nights ago just proved to her that a relationship just wouldn't work out. And so, as Blake always does, she prioritised what she thought would end up working in the long run. Instead of pushing through pain to win medals, she was pushing through her feelings for Nico to protect her heart. 

“I’m sorry,” she had whispered to him, gaze falling to the floor when he finally walked away from her. 

*

Nico had thought that he was doing the right thing. Sure, he had let things go too far when he started flirting with Blake at the bar. But come on, she was so gorgeous, and she was exactly the kind of person that he wanted to be with. Forget “kind of person”, Nico thought. She was literally the only person he wanted to see or talk to. 

He thought that maybe he was taking advantage of her in some way. after he had started stopping by her house and visiting, and they had become friends… Jack had started telling him stories of Blakes abusive childhood. He couldn't even imagine growing up in a sport so toxic. And then of course there was her career ending injury, which is the reason behind them even starting to hang out. 

Blake Hughes was vulnerable, she was hurt and she was upset, and Nico wasn’t sure if love was even something she was looking for right now. He felt like he was stepping over some sort of invisible line, and that if Blake didn’t reciprocate his feelings, she wouldn't want to talk to him anymore. 

But he was proven to be right regardless, because Blake wasn’t talking to him and he had no idea why. 

*

blake.hughes added to their story!

The devil’s holiday event was lackluster. Jack had caught the eye of some pretty brunette and so he was off flirting and doing god-knows what. She had hoped that by now that Jack would stop insisting she came to these kinds of events and outings. But Blake guessed watching Titanic every night for the last week counted as a setback in her recovery journey. 

She swirled the drink in her cup, watching mindlessly as couples mingled and talked amongst themselves. This was just getting depressing. 

As the night continued nothing changed. She sat in her spot by the bar, conversing with the bartenders with as limited a vocabulary as possible. If her mother were here, she would definitely be scolding Blake for being rude. 

“You okay?” one of the girlfriends had asked Blake as they waited at the bar for another drink. Blake had nodded respectively, and when that didn’t appease the girl she sighed. 

“Boy troubles, you know?” she laughed, hoping that the awkwardness would be too much and that the girl would take the hint and leave. 

“Hit me,” she had said instead, and so that’s how Blake spent the next 45 minutes explaining to Jesper Bratts girlfriend all the ways in which an anonymous man had shown feelings for her. 

“I mean, it really sounds like he likes you. you know how men are, maybe you should make the first move?” the blonde had replied. 

“But there’s a lot at stake here… this guy is.. Well,”

“Standing over there?” Bratts girlfriend said, pointing to Nico Hischier. He looked gorgeous, and if Blake wasn’t so shocked that she had guessed correctly she probably would have melted to a puddle on the floor. 

Blake fumbled with what to say, opening and closing her mouth pathetically as her gaze moved from Nico to the girl perched in front of her. 

“You guys aren’t very subtle, Blake” she said, patting the girl on the shoulder before launching into strategies in which Blake could “get her man”.

After the talk and another drink, Blake was ready to pour out all of her feelings to Nico because when she really thought about it, could life get anymore awful? she was already never going to be able to figure skate again, and she and Nico weren’t talking… nothing could possibly be worse than this. 

Wrong. 

In the 35 minutes it took for Bratts girlfriend to convince Blake to confess her feelings to Nico, he had moved on. Like, literally moved on from the group of guys he was talking to and onto a far too attractive blonde. 

Life was actually cruel. 

Like they always do, Blake and Nico caught eyes, and before he could make a move to come talk to her she was pushing past people to get towards the exit. She’d text Jack that she left when she was far, far, away from this cursed event. 

*

Blake had just taken off her heels and pulled the backs of her earrings off when loud knocks echoed off her front door. 

“Jack, I literally told you I was going home. I’m fine!” she stressed, yanking open the door without really looking at who was standing outside. 

“It’s not Jack,” Nico’s voice was soft. Blake paused where she was standing, slowly turning so that she was face to face with the man of the last few weeks… Nico. 

He looked even better up close. His beard was shaven, tie a little loose. He was her weakness if that kind of thing even mattered anymore. 

“Nico,” she had breathed out, like she hadn’t imagined a single possibility in which he could be standing right in front of her. The weeks had seemed that long. Like there was no possibility that he’d still be waiting for her. 

“Blake,” he sighed, walking into the apartment and shutting the door softly behind him.

“I really like you, you know that right?” she admitted. “Like, every time I'm with you I feel so calm and yet so overwhelmed with the idea that you were made for me?”

Nico didn’t have a chance to react before Blake continued saying her thoughts out loud. “Whenever I'm near you I get butterflies and I've never felt that way about anyone before. You're, youre so different to anyone I've ever known. And I know that you're Jack's captain and that I'm his sister and that could make things really awkward for you but I really don't care! Because I like you and Jack’s just going to have to get over that when the time comes,”

“I bought your jersey! I don't even own my twins jersey!” she continued, pulling out her phone from her small shoulder bag. She flicked it open, pulling up her duolingo streak. “And Duolingo! I have Duolingo to try and learn Swiss German!” 

“Nico, if you don't feel the same way that's fine. I'm so sorry for thinking there was something between us,” Blake began apologizing, dropping the phone to her side as she started to calm down from the shocks of the evening. 

“I have a notes app filled with all of your favourite things,” he interrupted Blakes ramblings. 

“When I'm missing you, I make two portions of my dinner and bring some over to you as an excuse to see you. When Jack told me I didn’t have to come over to visit with you anymore, I was upset. My first thought was that I really liked you and that I didn't want whatever we have going on to end,”

“you liked me?” Blake spoke, her timid voice breaking through Nico’s speech.

“I still like you,” he responded, and not a second later was Blake’s purse falling to the ground as her hands wound themselves around Nico’s neck. 

He grabbed her by her waist, fingers dancing over the small of her back as he brought her into a passionate kiss. 

By the time they realized what they were doing, Blake was backing Nico into her room. “Are you sure?” he whispered, breaking away from their heated make out session to rest his forehead against hers. 

“I need you,” she was basically whimpering, but Nico paid that no attention as he slowly started sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders. 

“You're gorgeous,” he whispered, trailing kisses from her lips all the way down to her cleavage. 

Blake moaned, gripping onto Nicos hair as the both of them sunk down onto her plush bed. 

*

In the morning, Blake woke up to her and Nico cuddling. Blake ran her hands lightly through his hair, all of last night's events rushing back to her with pleasure. 

Nico groaned when he finally came to, head moving against Blakes shoulder as he tried to shield himself from the light that was shining through her curtains. He placed a few soft kisses onto her shoulder before snuggling closer to her.

She set one of her legs over his, and then allowed him to pull her as close to him as possible. 

They would discuss the nature of their relationship later. but now, all the two cared about was spending as much time with one another as possible before life got in the way. They went back to sleep peacefully, knowing that they don't have to pretend anymore.

[superectojazzmage]

Watched the Nimona movie last night. Review I guess. It was pretty damn good. Definitely would’ve probably been regarded as Blue Sky’s magnum opus if they’d gotten to release it instead of being fucked over by Disney. Very cute, very funny, very powerful in the right moments. A thing that stuck out to me is that it’s really only an adaptation in the loosest sense of the word. It takes the core premise and beats of the comic but is functionally an entirely different kind of story that does its own thing. And given that ND Stevenson was heavily involved in production, I suspect that was intentional.

The comic was much darker and more downbeat in a lot of ways, plus it was significantly longer and thus could afford to be slower paced. But more than that, it was a lot more meaty in terms of themes and scope. The whole “LGBT allegory” element was there, but it wasn’t the sole focus, the comic was a story about a lot of different things; not just an LGBT experience, but also discussion of fantasy genre tropes and clichés, criticism of other fantasy deconstructions, character study, exploring what it means to be a hero or villain, critique of the glorification of crime and cruelty in underprivileged communities, corruption in governments, peer pressure, the senseless and self-perpetuating nature of violence, the worthlessness of revenge, etc.. And above all that, it was a story about trauma and people’s responses to it, with Ballister representing people who actually deal with their problems and move on while Nimona represented people who let their mistakes and suffering and grief consume their identity, or worse, use it as an excuse to indulge their worst qualities and take out their feelings on everyone around them.

The movie, by contrast, has a much more narrow focus. The LGBT allegory is front and center and basically the entire focal point of the movie, aside from a spattering of themes about the danger of zealotry and rigid fundamentalist thinking. This gives the movie a much tighter narrative and pacing that suits its inherently shorter runtime, but also leads to a ton of changes to the story either to convey a different kind of message or just work better in a different medium. Most obviously in how Nimona is vastly more sympathetic in the movie and essentially really is the silly gremlin the comic fakes you out into thinking she is, scrapping the comic’s twist that she was a genuinely bad person who was completely serious about wanting to be a villain, caring nothing for the lives she destroyed with her behavior and idolizing Ballister because she thought he was the same as her and would thus tell her what she wanted to hear (i.e., that she was justified in killing and destroying everything around her in the name of getting even). And in the changes to the Institution’s history and nature. And all sorts of other things.

All in all, I feel if you go in comparing and contrasting the movie and the comic, arguing which changes are for the better or worse, you’ll be setting yourself up for disappointment in either direction because they’re two different beasts and it’s like comparing apples and oranges. So keep that in mind if you’re a fan of the comic watching the movie or a fan of the movie wanting to look into the comic. I think ultimately I still like the comic better, but that’s purely my personal opinion and there’s plenty that I think the movie did better.

Some other observations:

Riz Ahmed my beloved, thank you Mr. Stevenson for this perfect casting. Literally perfect for Ballister.

Acting in general was very good. You can tell this was a passion project for a lot of people, not just Stevenson.

Only two changes that are objectively bad are Ambrosius losing his awesome Van Halen hairdo and changing Ballister’s last name — Blackheart is a way cooler name than Boldheart and it’s a pointless change, one that I’d argue even hurts the narrative since it makes it too obvious that Ballister isn’t actually a bad guy.

The animation is really great with fantastic expressions, stylish movement, and wonderful aesthetics that perfectly suit the story, but there’s times where it feels a little off. But there are parts where it looks less “movie” and more “cheap mid-2000s CGI-and-Flash cartoon show from France”.

The humor can be a hit and miss, in a “going through the motions of a Hollywood animated comedy for kids” way. The movie excels when it’s either imitating the comic’s Old Internet sense of humor or going hard on the drama, but there’s bits where it seemingly slams on the brakes to do Illumination-esque Twitter humor and those bits definitely throw off the vibe.

Having an actual straight up attempted suicide in the climax was shockingly ballsy. I genuinely can’t believe they went there, but I’m glad they did because the film wouldn’t have felt nearly as raw without it.

I don’t know how they managed to make the Director even more of an asshole than in the comics, but they did.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Could i request G, I, L, O, and U for Mihawk with the alphabet please? I love your takes on these characters.

Aww, thank you!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

His love for you isn't a game, but by god does he love the thrill of a good hunt. His darling being feisty is ideal for him. With his dream already being well achieved, he's honestly quite bored in his day to day life. Terrorizing random pirates that irk him in one way or another only entertains him so much. He needs something with real substance, and that comes in the form of playing a cat and mouse game with you (he frequently calls you his little mouse as a term of endearment and slight teasing jab).

Fighting back against him and running away is an extremely frustrating process, and not just because of how unsuccessful it is. No, it's his attitude that drives you up the wall. He keeps giving you critiques and pointers. You tried to run while he slept? He's admonishing you for not even trying to drug or poison him. You tried to fight him? He's correcting your stance, your hold on the weapon, and your technique the entire time. You made some elaborate escape plan? He calls it cliche and says that he knows you can do better than that. All of this combined almost makes you want to throw in the towel and sit quietly in his castle just to spite him.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

While he adores the fun of you running away and fighting him, he does hope that you'll settle down and come to love him eventually. Even then, he still wants you to be a little feisty. Like having some playfully sharp banter and doing little things to get a rise out of each other. Think like a somewhat vitriolic spin on a Morticia and Gomez Addams type relationship.

Outside of that, he wants to have a quaint life with you in his castle. He'd also like to teach you how to fight with a sword because he does want you to be self sufficient to a degree, plus he considers it to be a fun bonding activity. Once you've calmed down, he plans to marry you. The rings will be uniquely gothic yet simple, and you'll have a quiet ceremony in his garden... At least it was quiet until Shanks and company showed up because they someone caught wind of this despite Mihawk's best effort.

Mihawk isn't super interested in children, but he doesn't hate the idea either. On one hand, he thinks that Perona's spontaneous appearances are enough, but if you two were to have a surprise baby or some kid washed up on shore, he wouldn't be upset about it.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

In hindsight, it's a little embarrassing how easily he drew you in. Mihawk is an attractive and charming man. The first interactions are short and sweet. They give you a taste while still maintaining an air of mystery. He gives you little gifts, like an article of clothing that he thought would suit you or some well-aged wine that he made himself. After that stage, he offers for you to come have dinner at his home. At that point, he's been a suave gentleman, so you see no reason to turn down him. What you don't realize is that he has no intention of letting you leave once you're there. That will be an after dinner surprise for you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Beyond trapping you on his island, you're pretty much free to do whatever your heart desires. He won't even disarm you because as mentioned in G, he loves a good fight. On top of that, he won't force you to do anything with him besides just staying on the island. If you two kiss, it's only going to be because you initiated it. He wants you to want him, and he also admittedly gets a kick out of how annoyed you are when you start to want him due to him being one of the very few people you ever get to interact with. He won't harm you either because he simply finds no reason to. It's not like you're going to be any real threat to him, so hurting you would be like a hunter giving a handicap to a baby deer.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

A few things: He enjoys your fighting and escape attempts, he's shockingly respectful of some of your boundaries, and he isn't prone to jealousy.

[fernsnailz]

Not sure how much meat this question has to it but if back in 2006 you were the one that spearheaded the shadow the hedgehog game, how would you have done it?

i'd want ShTH 2005 to keep the same core energy its final form ended up with, but tbh there's a lot i would have done differently lol. here's my 3 step plan for how i would have directed it previously/would direct any sort of reboot or remaster

1. TIMELOOP!!!!!!

i'm not the first person to come up with this idea and i won't be the last to talk about it, but the gist of this point is that ShTH's story makes WAY more sense when you treat it like a timeloop. you finished a story path and end up back in westopolis? great job, you're at the beginning of the timeloop again. it's a smart way to make this wack story a little more cohesive.

i would LOVE to further utilize the timeloop concept for this game because it could be a very simple addition to add flavor OR it be the core of the game's story and gameplay. small things like shadow going "hey wait, have i seen this before?" when he's going through westopolis for the third time can hint at the narrative, and once shadow realizes he's in a loop he's motivated to find EVERY path in search of the full truth. every new story path could be treated as a new game+ as shadow starts to consistently remember more from previous timeloops, carrying over certain weapons, abilities, and memories from his previous experiences.

one really cool idea i saw a while ago on here (edit: FOUND IT! i'm talking about this post) is someone's ShTH timeloop pitch where after a few resets, silver starts to show up and tells shadow to stop messing with the timeline. this continues, and eventually silver becomes a final boss of some of the paths. this idea has never left my mind since i saw it and i need to find the person that came up with it they mean so much to me

i have more timeloop thoughts but i will move on for now

2. simplify or rework the morality system and levels

this is my big gameplay critique - there is A Lot to do in ShTH and very little of it is consistently fun. i have grievances with the morality system i talked about a while ago, the gist of my opinion boiling down to "the system removes agency from shadow and the story doesn't fit within the morals you choose anyway." i'd either MASSIVELY rework the morality system to make it feel worthwhile or just throw the whole thing away. unfortunately i don't have many pitches for what to replace it with since i haven't played that many games with branching stories - maybe the story paths you go down are based on BIG story decisions shadow makes during boss battles or in cutscenes (?) like choosing which boss to fight, which characters to save, what moves or weapons to use, stuff like that. i just want the stuff that leads to branching stories to be more impactful and a little simpler.

this also applies to the levels, of which there are... a lot. and maybe there should be less? i think it would be smart to cut down or combine some of the levels, then really flesh out the ones that matter. and given the non-linear nature of ShTH, i think a version with levels more focused on exploration and combat would fit the game better than the linear mission-based gameplay of the original.

3. MORE GUN

listen man. they advertised this as the sonic game with guns and in my opinion i think they could've done better. i mostly just want a more fleshed out weapons system with upgrades, a little customization, better controls, etc. just put the merchant from resident evil 4 in there and have him accept rings and i would be happy

-------------------------

those are the big points i would personally stick to, but i do have smaller points i would consider as well, including:

make black doom seem competent

explain who the chaotix are working for and fit it into the story

no more "kill this many enemies to progress" missions. please

super shadow can have a gun now

[elliespuns]

It’s definitely not a hate comment towards the actresses; it’s just a critique of the makeup staff or whoever’s responsible for that. But what I’m getting at is that both Bella and Isabela look way too young; they could pass for 10-year-old girls, and the worst part is they’re trying to sell us on Isabela carrying a child all empowered and Bella taking care of the baby like Dina’s partner??? Bella will end up looking like JJ’s slightly older sister. And can you believe both women, barely 5’1, are going to be taking down every guy in their path??? Good Lord, I’m so frustrated.

And I’m sure as hell we’ll just settle for whatever they give us and eventually accept it, but it’s not what we deserve as fans.

I agree with everything you say. Not here to dis either. I loved season 1 even though there were so many things that made me roll my eyes or mad for actually not happening at all (like all those Ellie and Joel moments they screw us over with by not delivering them and making their bond less impacful). But this is too much. I get it. They can't make the actresses meet the original Ellie's height, but with what the make-up artists can do nowadays, I was at least expecting Bella to age for the show. 

We can't have two (19 and 20) year old girls slaying everyone throughout their way of Seattle if they look like 12 year olds. Not to mention one of them is supposed to be pregnant; how's that going to look? Also, the cast for Jesse? Young Mazino definitely looks like Jesse's real age, so we're now having Dina, who is 12, date Jesse, who's over 20?

I love this duo for how capable they both are as a team. I don't mind that they won't look exactly the same, but the age, chemistry, and dynamics should fit. If I'm not getting this, I don't want anything else. 

I am not the one to point out flaws, and I usually look for the better parts in everything because I can appreciate effort, but I feel no effort really has been put into anything I've seen leaked. It feels like everyone's just pissed that Pedro won't be there on set to light up everyone's day, so they just kind of gave up on trying, or idk. It's just sad.

I can't even start thinking about certain scenes because they get even more hilarious when I imagine them based on what I've seen so far. Can you imagine the weed den scene? I don't want to watch two 12 year olds make out. Or the shamblers encounters? (if there will be any). Not even talking about the farm era, where Ellie and Dina live as a couple with a kid. If they don't make the girls age, nobody will take the whole show seriously. There are already so many people disliking S01 (most of them are game fans), and the creators just keep adding to the pile of dislikes. People are gonna be so angry and upset. 

Look, these are just leaked photos, I get it. Maybe the girls were just testing/practicing. Who knows. Maybe they'll even surprise us. But until then, I know I won't be expecting much because I'd rather expect the worst than expect a lot and then get a slap in the face.

[waltzingwithyourenemyattheball]

PICK A CARD: MESSAGES FROM SHIV-SHAKTI (DIVINE MASCULINE-DIVINE FEMININE)

Left: 111 ; Right: 333

Disclaimer:

Take what resonates and leave the rest.

Personal Readings are paid only. DM to book.

No one is allowed to copy my work under any circumstances.

Thank you for allowing me to read for you, and provide feedback.

✨111✨

Justice will be served, it’s been long due for you isn’t it? You have been waiting, praying, hoping and have been hopeless and joyless too. This is your confirmation of justice being handed to you. Especially in relationships, I see someone along thinking they will never find somebody, some people came almost too good to be true, and as you suspected they weren’t, they betrayed you, made a fool of you, but I am being told to tell you, that you were not the fool, how can someone so pure, someone who’s intent was nothing but innocent is the fool? Why do we think that pessimism is maturity and optimism being naive? Isn’t the true fool the one who betrays? Aren’t they the one who actually lost something good due to their own stupidity. Please go BACK TO TRUSTING YOURSELF. You will find a partner who trusts themselves too, a union of too mature adults, a union grounded in reality, a union till death do you part, a union with kids and family, a union of loyalty and legacy, a union joining two communities. MOST IMPORTANTLY, A UNION OF MUTUAL RESPECT AND UNDERSTANDING. You will be soon tied to your destiny, weather a partner for most of you or life purpose, or the balance of the yin and yang, but its time to go around the sacred fires and take sacred vows. Also the number 7 and 11 popped up, these are soulmate numbers, you could marry your soulmate or for some of you, they could be a friend. YOU or the, could be born on the 7, 16, 25th or 11th , 20th, 29th be a 7 or 11 life-path. COMMENT ’rose’ to claim 🌙DM to book a personal tarot reading, your mystery messages want to keep being channeled🌙

✨333✨

(There are many messages, take what resonates and leave the rest) For some of you: you don’t reach the sun from earth on foot, change your plans, you are dreaming big so why is the plan  so hurried, you don’t trust this plan either so why are you hurried pushing it further, what’s yours won’t get copied, put your own unique touch, but for that you need time, you are a good leader, motivating and charming, but what’s the need to hurry. LEARN PATIENCE. I am seeing someone overwhelmed, who wants to stop or slowdown but won’t admit to themselves.  KEEP MOMENTUM, but do not be hurried, you get hurried, then frustrated and then nothing seems to work out and then it forms a loop, relax. I AM GETTING VERY FRUSTRATED ENERGY FROM YOU and anxious.  Oooo, BIG KING ENERGY! You are a person with intense passion and a solid plan, that’s rare. You might be the creative type that is logical too. Maybe you never could just fit in one category but like clay kept taking the shape the energy or the activity needed from you. It’s confirmed, you are not meant to be in a box. The message here is to take the logical, analytical mind take a back seat in the initial stages, don’t critique yourself or your plans too much, let the energy take form, during the course of times, things self correct automatically.  SAVE THIS AND RE-READ THIS, take a print or screenshot, but please don’t just read and move on without doing anything about yourself. Hope you feel better, and keep taking deep breathes.  COMMENT ’relax’ to claim message. 🌙DM to book a personal tarot reading, your mystery messages want to keep being channeled🌙

[dxstopiaa]

Illicit Immorality…

Synopsis: Seems like turning to a life of crime was disapproved by your tutor, now there’s a price to pay for it. [Request, a sequel to my last fic if you may. ] (¯ ³¯)♡

Characters: Teacher! Al Haitham x Fem!Criminal! Reader.♡

Warnings: NSFW, interact at your own risk. [Includes: Previous Teacher x Student dynamic, Reader is aged 18+, bondage, degradation, male masturbation, edging, cockwarming.] [Please forgive me for the haitham brain rot, my poor brain flooded with him atm. ] (づ￣ ³￣)づ

It would be a crime not to remember you, his pretty little student who sat quietly at the back of his class, who excelled in all assignments which touched her hands, who he never expected to see in a run-down warehouse selling knowledge too forbidden for even Al Haitham himself to know.

Yes, it was the last place he expected to see you, sitting atop a crate whilst you surveyed all of the canned knowledge you obtained, by illegal means. He stood behind a rack of barrels, watching you pull each and every item from a dilapidated sack, smirking slightly to himself. Just five minutes left.

He recalled when he would slump in his office chair, thoughts of you and your provocative actions clouded his hazy mind as he guided his large, calloused hand up and down his thick cock, struggling to keep his groans from being unheard of. Surely you knew what effect you had on him back then?

To see you here now, so oblivious, so content with your crimes that Al Haitham was itching to punish you in ways you couldn’t even dream of. He thought he had taught you better than to do this, when you could do so many other things for him instead.

You continued to inspect the loot, transferring it all into the box to your left, humming unknowingly. You knew you shouldn’t let your guard down, after all you did have a client to tend to very soon. Barely audible footsteps, an exasperated sigh, then that familiar, baritone voice followed.

You quickly regretted turning to greet the once anonymous customer, the synthetic smile immediately wiped from your lips. His deep chuckle drew you from your trance, now merely a few feet away from you.

“Foolish girl.” Al Haitham mocked, watching your features merge into one of horror, perhaps even fear, “Did you really think you could get away so easily?” He continued, crossing his chiseled arms over his torso. His slow, almost teasing steps towards you didn’t help, you struggled to come up with a suitable defense.

Instead, you remained silent, gazing intensely at your past tutor with shame, his own eyes flicking from the items back to you. He continued to scrutinise the labels on the knowledge capsules, at times reading them out loud.

“Archeology and architecture? You’re pirating these objects for this?” Al Haitham critiqued, looking up, though the sight he was greeted with was not one of fury which he presumed. Instead, he was met with a timid glance. The same expression you wore in all his classes.

He hummed in consideration, seeing your shaky hands clasped in your lap. With another stride, he crouched down to your height, his turquoise irises filled with an indescribable emotion. Were you simply frightened of being caught out? Or was there something else you refused to admit?

“If it’s imprisonment which you’re so worried about, why don’t i make a deal with you, doll?” Al Haitham bargained, snaking his arms either side of you, his lips brushing against your neck. You shivered at his words, a futile attempt to stand your ground lost, an amused chuckle left his lips.

“Why don’t i get what i’ve wanted, and you can leave partially unscathed?” He offered once more, but the cryptic tone he always carried made it much more difficult to decipher his intentions. You sat still on the box, words caught in your throat.

“What…What do you mean.?” You hesitated, but those half lidded eyes of his was making it increasingly more challenging to concentrate on anything other than the arousal growing in your abdomen, squeezing your plush thighs together.

This exerted a displeased sigh from the Scribe, he placed a heavy hand on your thigh, the other cupping your jaw. A very poor execution of proving your innocence, he thought.

“You know exactly what i mean, don’t you do this for all your clients, princess?” Al Haitham ridiculed, that bitter language mixed with the false fondness of the petname making your condition a whole lot worse, “Unless you’re doing this on purpose.”

You’ve always known he had a tendency to be cold and deceptive, occasionally even ill-tempered, but not to this extent. He lifted you up with no trouble, sitting down himself and placing you on his lap. You withdrawed from his stare, feeling ashamed to be doing this now despite the numerous times you’ve longed for it.

Al Haitham latched onto your waist, quietly snickering as he pulled up your skirt, admiring the pretty shade of green your panties were whilst tracing lines upon the delicate fabric. Squirming and whining around in his lap from his touch did not aid his formed erection, for he gripped your hips tighter, leaving marks for sure.

“Stay still, i’m not accepting any obscene behaviour from you.” He commanded, you could feel his unmoving fixtation on you, feeling ashamed in his presence. Your hands covered your face as you leaned closer into the crook of his neck, inhaling the cologne he often wore.

A discontented noise of sorts left his lips, next the sound of rustling and your hands pulled behind your back. You gasped in realisation, seeing his belt no longer on his waist, but clasped around your wrists. Though you knew better than to thrash about in protest, this seemed more ideal than prison.

“Really, now you’re embarrassed? What happened to you wanting to repent? With your body nonetheless,” Al Haitham teased, continuing to ghost his thumb over your clit, broken pleads from the edging almost inaudible. He beckoned you closer so he could whisper in your ear, chuckling from your hesitance. “Whore.”

Archons, has he always been like this? You asked yourself. So reluctant to give you what you want despite your urgent pleas, or so sadistic to enjoy seeing you writhe in frustration as he pleasures himself directly in front of you?

He merely sat slouched, spreading his precum over his tip, almost tauntingly, as he shifted his hand up and down his dick, then placing his fingers in your mouth, compelling you to lick them clean.

And which you did, the Scribe groaned at your compliance, wondering how your mouth would do the same to his cock, yet that could come at a later, less desperate time. He supposed he could reward you temporarily, pushing your dampened panties to the side, scoffing at how pathetically you were whining now.

You whimpered in anticipation, growing more needy by the minute, latching onto Al Haitham’s biceps in an attempt to stabilise yourself whilst he lowered you down onto his dick, partially sobbing from the sensation of him stretching you out. You clenched tightly around him, eliciting a deep groan from him.

“Relax sweetheart.” He hummed, hilting himself fully inside of you, savouring your pleased moans as he bounced you on his cock. By now, he was certain that anybody outside the warehouse could hear the lewd noises you were making, seeing you being fucked so aggressively by the Scribe himself, eyes rolled back and mouth agape in hedonism.

Seeming pleased enough, Al Haitham firmed his grip, halting any movement from you, returning your discontented, almost confused glare. So now he’s teasing you?

“Now, explain to me what you’re doing here in the first place and i might let you have your way with me.”

[thatguythatdrawsalot]

Ruby - Atlas Design Critique.

I'm ending things off with a post about Ruby, now I do love making these kinds of posts but I don’t want to make it a top priority because, of course, I wanna draw other things especially since I start college around the corner. These posts tend to take more creative juices from my small brain. Until then, just consider critiques/redesign posts on a hiatus. 

RWBY Archives

I’m glad you guys were able to see me talk about outfits in a negative, negative, neutral-positive, and now POSITIVE way, mainly due to being biased. The archives say pretty much the obvious in her having a new style and being more cutting-edge with the look aka more stylish. I think they nailed it as she looks more mature and better yet her corset is way more reminiscent of Pyrrha. You know? The friend Ruby wants to honor since she saw her die right before her eyes- I can keep gushing about how cool she looks but uh, again I’m being biased, she’s cool-looking but not… practical. As in this outfit isn’t necessarily good to wear in Atlas, or rather the tundras. I wouldn’t mind this if she was solely stuck in Atlas/Mantle but she goes on outside missions, why on earth is she wearing a mesh? If anything this outfit would serve better if she was in Vacuo. The outfit had an alternative version of No Sleeves and even her presumed Volume 10 outfit looks so identical to her Atlas design.

Amazing how even the best outfit in Team RWBY still doesn’t make her look warm for the climate.

Hair

Remember back in my Blake Critique post on how I said I hated the ‘Spitting-Image of Parent' trope in fiction? They could’ve given Ruby a ponytail to look similar to once again; Summer, but they didn’t they got Ruby’s messy bang out of her field of vision and swooped it to the left! She looks 100% cuter and combat ready and while everyone was excited at her for looking more like Qrow, I was excited cause her hair looked more like Taiyang’s hair in being swooshed to the left. Though I wish they gave a reason as to why Ruby changed her hair all of a sudden, when characters change hairstyles it’s usually to show a display of growth with a ‘Show Don’t Tell’ reason but I’ll be biased and assume Ruby just wanted to look more mature ever since stood her ground in Argus for a reason I don’t wanna rant about.

Primary Color - Red!

Ruby doesn’t fail in representing her color of Red. The long red cape already does the job well plus her red skirt, she’s a gold star for being a red-themed character. But when it comes to her sleeves, blegh. I’m sure people have noticed this by now but Ruby’s sleeves are light gray which is so similar to her skin tone, which puts more emphasis on her arms. I swear the first time I saw the teaser trailer and saw Ruby’s model, I thought they decided to ditch the sleeves but no. The sleeves are just super light like her skin. I think it would’ve helped the design if they either made Ruby tan like her sister or made the sleeves a darker gray.

Negatives?

I do love Ruby’s Atlas look but as I said I can’t be biased. As cool and cute as she looks it isn’t a proper outfit for the cold environment she’s in, she even shivers in the show canon. The sleeves matching her skin look weird. An open skirt is silly and what’s sillier is a belt holding it in place. I also really hate how Ruby’s cape was just… replaced. Back then I thought her cape had significance as she continued to wear it even when it was withered and tethered, but even back then I thought her Vale cape held more significance- but anyways it was just replaced. Whatever I guess- oh my god it’s the same cape with lazy fabric around her neck. They couldn’t give her a different styled cape? One where it’s held together by a string? Buttons? Pins? No?...

Redesign

Okay, I know it’s crazy, but I ditched the cape and emblem. I know, I know! I just used the canon logic and since the cape didn’t mean anything to Ruby for it to be replaced, she could just ditch it for now. I know the cape is an iconic element but I couldn’t find a way to incorporate it. I also ditched the metal emblem, I know it’s a ‘mother’s promise’ and her mom’s emblem but uh… she didn’t wear it in Volume 2, I didn’t think she would care to wear it now. I wanted the look to be different but I think I just made Ruby unrecognizable now. I know the formula is to have Ruby wear a cape and the metal emblem but I just… couldn’t. I’ll confess to you guys about something, the main inspiration for this outfit was Ruby’s Ice Queendom design. I love it and wanted to try to get Ruby with that similar vibe, but I can understand if everyone may not like this. No cape, no metal emblem, and looks a little more childish when Ruby is supposed to be mature. I get it, but I wanted to show you guys that you shouldn’t be afraid of drastic changes to designs. It can sometimes work and sometimes not. 

Conclusion

Ruby’s outfit is still arguably the best amongst her team even when it’s not climate-appropriate, as much as I nag about her sleeves being too close to her skin color and the decision of her cape being repaired I still do love it. It isn’t perfect I can admit that but she is on the top best Atlas designs for me. If this outfit was instead held off for Vacuo or a return to Vale, it’d be top fifteen at the very least in all of the designs we’ve seen across the show. 

But of course it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! :D

[king-paimon]

I've read up on your blog through a lot of Houseki no Kuni's manga. I liked your analysis though I gotta say come the last chapters, specifically since chapter 95, I didn't always agree with them.

I didn't need the end to be happy sunshine and rainbows, or the opposite, for Phos to go all revenge monster on the gems either. But at the end there, I felt like we all just accepted everything Ichikawa threw at us with no criticism, all that torture flattening the narrative's nuance, and if I didn't like it, I was seeing it through the wrong angle.

I know you don't act like that, which I appreciate. Throught all your reviews, you expressed understanding on why so many people disliked the story. Thank you for that, thank you for not being judgemental. And I'm glad you enjoyed the ride.

I just couldn't help but feel like so many story threads were left lose, and so many complete 180°s were thrown that didn't match the story or it's characters. Some people described it as a self-sabotaged narrative, and I see it. It wasn't enough to give me catharsis - especially with the character set up as the villain getting everything he wanted.

I guess I just had higher standards, which the story didn't meet. That is not a bad thing, after all.

I think my biggest gripe is with how Cairngorm's character was handled, and I'd like to include this here. The ambiguity of their predatory relationship was in poor taste, and remained unaddressed. I can see why so many of my friends left the series when that plot point happened. They deserved better.

Hi @intoxtinction! Thank you for sending me this message and sorry that it took me so long to finally respond. Real life has been kicking my butt and free time to do anything on here is a rarity. But I still wanted to write a response to you because I really loved your response! And yes, I saw the comment you left on my last HnK meta post. You're good; don't worry about it!

Thank you again for your kind words. I'm glad that you like my posts, even if they sometimes become long, nonsensical rambles and especially if you don't agree with some of my points! I love that. Whenever I wrote my posts, I always try to keep an open mind and take into account that all fans are different and would have different views when it comes to works works like HnK. As far as I can see, HnK is one of those works that is supposed to draw up conversations because it's not a simple, straight forward story with clear distinction between black/white moral characters. Everyone who reads it is going to view the events in the story differently based on their own beliefs and even if everyone's views conflict with one another, I think it's fascinating and even wonderful. So even if I may not agree with some fans when it comes to certain aspects of HnK, I never hold it against them. I don't want to demonize anyone for how they interpret the story, at least not too harshly anyways. I know when I'm biased, but I don't let that stop me from at least trying to understand where other fans are coming from. HnK was such a fascinatingly complex and unconventional story, and the fact that it can spur many views and feelings from people is one of the reasons whyI liked the series.

With that being said, however, I also think it's important to be open to properly critique our favorite works. HnK is not immune from these critiques, because for as much as I enjoyed following the story over the past couple of years, there are many aspects in the overall story that were far from satisfying. So many loose ends, incomplete character arches, and questionable story decisions... After being away from the story for some time now, it's become more apparent that there were many aspects to the HnK that has me question Haruko Ichikawa's story telling abilities. Don't get me wrong, she's shown to be a very fascinating storyteller and I overall liked what she created. But when it comes to the incomplete story threads for all of the other characters besides Phos, I can't tell if some of Ms. Ichikawa's decisions were intentionally left up for interpretation or if their stories were just not important to complete since at the end of the day, HnK is about Phos's story. One of these decisions I question the most about is Cairngorm's story arch, so I couldn't agree more with you, @intoxtinction. Cairngorm was done dirty in so many ways and they deserved a more satisfying ending to their story.

I was planning on writing two last posts that would be focusing on these topics. But because life has been kicking my butt too much lately, I don't know when they will be out, if at all at this point. But if I'm able to complete them, I hope you'll get the chance to read them and share your own thought. And again, it's totally fine if you don't agree with my points; I'd still love to read them!

[sapphire-mage]

So You Want to Get Into Classic Final Fantasy? (A Guide to Final Fantasy I-VI for Those Who Want To Check Them Out)

You may have seen recently that the HD Remixes of Final Fantasy 1-6 are coming to Switch and PS4 in Spring (or that they're already on Steam or mobile), and you might be thinking, "Should I try one of them?" Maybe you've played VII/VII Remake or XIV, and you're like, "Maybe I should give one of these a go!" Maybe you're thinking to start in numerical order? Maybe you already have one in mind?

Either way, I want to throw my 50 cents into this conversation as someone who has played every number but 11. This isn't going to be a critique. I like all six of them. To varying degrees? Yeah. But I'll be honest about pros and cons of each. Let's begin, shall we?

GENERAL TIPS AND INFO:

-Take note that ALL of these games are turn based combat JRPGS. They may have something different between each of them, but they are all turn based combat driven.

-FF1-FF3 have a turn based style where you can decide the actions of all of your characters, and their actions will be played out on a basis of their speed, kind of like Pokemon. FF4-FF6 allows characters and enemies to act freely while you decide their next move, which can be more dangerous, but take note, there is a 'Wait Mode' you can activate that will stop the flow of battle while you scroll through the magic or item menus.

-If by some chance, Final Fantasy isn't vibing with you: By all means quit. Maybe pick up one with a story that interests you more. Maybe turn based combat isn't your thing. Maybe you want a better leveling system. Maybe you would rather do more modern adaptations. It varies, but don't be afraid to step away. If it's not your thing, it is not your thing. That's okay.

-When it comes to any of these games: Wait until they are on sale. Square tends to put their games on sale pretty often, and pretty often, those sales are a steal. So keep that in mind!

OKAY! Let's begin!

Final Fantasy I

Despite being the first in the series, it's a difficult sell as 'your first Final Fantasy' or 'your first classic Final Fantasy'. But it isn't a bad choice, especially if you have a decent amount of JRPG experience anyway. The story exists, but more in a 'world building' way and not a 'character' way. It is also the shortest out of all six being discussed here.

What may be a pro or con for some is that the main four characters are self-inserts. You choose their battle job (a choice that is permanent, by the way), name them, and then use them for battle and adventure. But they barely speak a word of dialogue, if at all. This is bad for people who want characters to feed off of, but great for people who want to put their OCs as the characters (I'm those people at times).

General Tip: Feel free to use whatever character class selection you want, but for a general idea: Warrior is powerful but expensive to keep powerful, Thief is the fastest but slightly fragile compared to the other two fighters, Black Belt is almost has powerful as Warrior but significantly less expensive, White Mage has access to insane healing spells but very expensive, Black Mage has access to insane attacking spells but very expensive, and Red Mage has access to half the spells W and B Mage have but has the versatility to use a sword and both of their spell options.

Final Fantasy II

This is the Final Fantasy that I have to inform you is 'The Bad One'™ of the six. Personally, I love this game. Has a surprisingly deeper story than you'd expect, dealing with a rebellion trying to bring down a facist overlord (which is awesome). But it is probably the hardest of the six. Walk in the wrong direction and high level monsters will eviscerate you.

It also has a very unique leveling system. Where most games in the series require EXP and give you stats as you level, this game gives you stats as you USE those stats. Want your HP and Defense to go up? Take some damage, and you'll have a chance to level those stats. Want your Fire spell to grow stronger? Use the spell in battle, and the spell will grow stronger with your MP and magic power, possibly. Want to get better with swords? Keep using swords, baby!

Also, has the coolest villain of the first three games in the form of The Emperor. He looks like The Goblin King from Labyrinth and is such a bastard. Very entertaining.

General Tip: Keep characters focusing on a specific thing, but have everyone be a 'mage knight'. Give each character a weapon to focus, and a magic type to focus (white magic or black magic, don't cross types). If you want a very specific suggestion, consider making Firion and Guy handle weapons of your choice, but use white mage to heal. Have Maria use a bow, but utilize black magic and being your mage.

Final Fantasy III

It is my least favorite of these six, but it is a beloved game in the series for a reason. Most importantly, it is the game that inspired a lot of XIV. Hell, XIV fans may recognizes many songs (including the above one), enemies, and characters throughout.

The big thing I should mention is that this game has two versions on Steam: The Classic Remix (sprites, insert characters that you can name but have no character arcs) and The 3D Version (3D figures, actual main characters with names). The decision is yours and yours alone, Steam users.

Otherwise, this is the first game to allow a Job Sytem. As you progress, you unlock jobs that your characters can select and become, but you can't do it as freely as you may like. Also, when your character is that select job (let's say Black Mage, for instance), they can only be that job and nothing else until you change it. Once you do, the skills and abilities that character was able to use before may not be usable anymore unless you change them back. You'll see.

General Tips: Kind of figure out what kind of jobs you want each characters to handle, and stick with they general realm for each of them. Fighters be fighters, mages be mages. There may be times where you'll want to break that, but that's up to you to strategize.

Final Fantasy IV

We're finally reaching the 'epic stories' of Final Fantasy now, so I'll be talking a bit more about story. IV is the first real dramatic epic that Final Fantasy is known for being, and the characters and story prove that. Is it the best in the series? Arguably not, but it is very good. Dealing heavily with themes of redemption, revenge, and forgiveness.

From a gameplay stand point, it's probably the most challenging of the 4-6 era. There isn't that much freedom with your characters, as each of them have their designated skills, abilities, and talents set from the start of leveling to the end of leveling. And you can't change those things. So instead, you need to level your characters, figure out how to best beat the upcoming bosses, and use what you have.

And the music is fantastic in this game. Songs ranging from gorgeous melodies of feeling safe and home, to some stressful and tense songs as you come face to face with the enemy. You may recognize some from Endwalker, as Endwalker pulled a lot from this game.

General Tips: Learn everything that your characters can do, and utilize them to the best of your ability. Maybe your healer needs to focus on buffing or attacking, while another character heals with magic or items. Maybe you need to better research your enemies with what you have. Everything is creativity in this game with your limited options.

Final Fantasy V

I'm not gonna sugar coat it: This is my favorite in the series. But I'll try not to be biased. For starters, the story steps down from its epic roots to be more comedic. Somehow, this game managed to be a parody of FFIV and every Final Fantasy that would follow V, before any of them would be created. You'll have a lot of goofball good guys and bad guys, while also having a mean as hell main villain who has a strange, almost comedic origin story.

CW worth noting: There is a character who goes through some gender clash. Basically, you're introduced to them as one gender, when it is revealed later that they only disguised themselves as that gender because people of their born gender don't get respect in their occupation. Feelings on how this character was handled vary, but the character is beloved regardless and stays true to themselves to the end. I wouldn't say it was outright transphobic, but I wouldn't say it was handled with grace (one piece of dialogue makes me wince). And it may get some side glances from players now. But ultimately, the cast and fans accept and love this character regardless.

The music is very Pokemon Hoenn region: TRUMPETS EVERYWHERE! Somebody was having a trumpet party while this game was being made. Still, the music is great, especially the boss themes as you go further into the game. The track you're listening to is my personal favorite from this game.

But I haven't even spoke of the strongest aspect: The gameplay! It has a job system like Final Fantasy III, BUT you can carry over things you've learned from previous jobs! Got a Black Mage, but you want to utilize Time Magic? Good news, you can equip the Black Magic you've mastered while using Time Mage! Want to try out Monk, but you want to keep stealing items with your Thief? Have your Thief master 'Steal', and then equip it as a Monk. The strategy and creativity is unlimited!

General Tips: At the start of the game, you have access to a job known as 'Freelancer'. On the surface, this job is useless. But later on, you'll find that it automatically equips ALL passive abilities (ie HP +20%, Dual Wield, Equip Armor) without using up any of your slots! So take note: Freelancer is a secret endgame class! Strategize with that in mind! LEARN WHAT PASSIVE ABILITIES YOU CAN!

Also: Don't. Underestimate. Blue Mage. If you can figure things out, Blue Mage is insanely powerful. Then again, I speak as a devout Blue Mage fanatic.

Final Fantasy VI

As far as epic Final Fantasy games go, this is the biggest and baddest one from 1-6. Action, comedy, romance, horror, tragedy, joy! Everything and more in this theatrical adventure! By far, the strongest story of the six in my eyes and the eyes of many. Often argued to be one of the strongest stories of the entire series even beyond the classic six, and I agree! Lovable main characters all around, some kick ass female characters who take the forefront over most of the guys often times, and a psycho clown who serves as the central villain! I would argue, from a story stand point, this game is the quintessence of classic Final Fantasy.

Music is out of this world. Some of the best tracks you'll hear in the series, along with an opera song that will warm your heart and a final boss theme that will make you question what anyone saw in a certain One Winged Angel.

And then there's the gameplay. While I will admit that I find V's gameplay better, VI's gameplay is still quite good. Like IV, all characters come with skills and abilities that are unique to each character, which makes party formation important. But once you get past the first act, you gain the ability to teach magic to ANY CHARACTER IN THE GAME (except two late game secret characters, but you don't have to use those)! As long as they keep a certain item equipped, they were learn the spells those items have to offer over a span of battles. This turns all of your characters into battle mages, and creates for some interesting strategy.

THE ONLY DOWNSIDE is the final act. The final act removes every party member from your team but one, and with that one, you have to reunite EVERYONE. And those quests vary in difficulty and time, although almost all are optional. And that wouldn't be an issue save for the fact that the final dungeon will force your to create THREE TEAMS of FOUR PARTY MEMBERS (maximum, you can enter with one party member on each team if you want). As such, you might want to consider leveling and teaching spells to as many party members as you can. This hurts a lot of fans of this game, but it never bothered me.

General Tip: This is less of a general tip and more of a demand. When you get your airship for the first time, UNLOCK MOG! I don't care if you think or were told Mog is bad. If I can beat the final boss with him, you can make use of him! Look up how to unlock him and make sure you do it! Hell, it may make the final dungeon easier, cause you'll have him as a party member. You can always recruit him later, but during that early part of the game (before you lose every party member), Mog can learn a water dance ability that is surprisingly useful. But that's just me. Some people hate Mog, but I'm not some people.

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Alright, that's all six. Now, from a stand point of which of the six should be your first. Well... Ranking them from best to worst starting option...

Final Fantasy V or VI

Final Fantasy IV

Final Fantasy I

Final Fantasy III

Final Fantasy II

This isn't ranking them in quality, but whether they are a good starting place. At the end of the day, I would recommend picking up V or VI if you've never played a classic Final Fantasy. If you've never played a Final Fantasy period, then maybe also consider VII, IX, or X. But that's up to you (and if I do a post on those).

As for whether you should pick V or VI...

IF YOU WANT CRAZY GOOD GAMEPLAY AND DON'T MIND THE STORY NOT BEING TOO SERIOUS, play Final Fantasy V.

IF YOU WANT CRAZY GOOD STORY WITH SOME PRETTY GOOD GAMEPLAY, play Final Fantasy VI.

Or play both. They're both really good.

If you've played one or both or want a reason to pick up one of these others:

Play Final Fantasy I so you can connect with the most classic of the series, as it won't take up too much time.

Play Final Fantasy II if you want a real JRPG challenge that rips you from your safe zone.

Play Final Fantasy III if you want to connect with a lot of the creation of XIV.

Play Final Fantasy IV because it's awesome.

Play Final Fantasy V because it's awesome.

Play Final Fantasy VI because it's awesome.

So yeah, that's everything. Again: You don't have to play any of these. Or all of these. You could play VI, and I promise, I won't be like, "Wow. You didn't play V? Cringe." If someone does, screw them. Play and try what you want to play and try. I'm just here to guide the way.

As for 7-15... Maybe I'll discuss them. But that's up to you for now.

[cumscrotesailboat]

I finished Citrus, the "infamous" GL that i keep hearing about and as far as i've seen, its only the anime thats insanely weird. The manga is super different from the anime adaptation. There's a lot to critique with this series BUT the argument i hear saying that it caters primarily to men is not quite accurate. It was made by a sapphic woman, of which the story was inspired by a real experience she had, published by a company that caters to QUEER women. It certainly wasn't made with men in mind.

(Also, spoiler at the bottom if you have plans on reading it)

With that out of the way, the "incest" subplot of the series felt like it had little significance to the narrative of the story. The only time it was being mentioned was the Blonde MC's inner dialogue about how she can't possibly be with the Black haired MC because they're sister and that's it. At the end, their parents agreed to not get married so the two can legally be married. There was no push back on the parents or anyone they knew, it was just there. I can't tell what the author's purpose with it is. In another wlw series i read, the incest subplot was there to shut down the argument "If same-sex love is ok, then that should mean incest love is ok too bcs it doesnt affect anyone right?", but in here I can't be sure if its for drama or if its for the "spicy forbidden love awoogawooga" japanese anime fans seem to love. Personally, i think its the former. It's drama but very weak drama. I don't wanna write off the latter that fast either. Sapphic women can get weird with incest fantasies too. I personally am not into it bcs its incest, crazy take i know, but sure ig? This one I don't really care since it had such little effect on the narrative that you can just ignore it or even delude yourself with thinking it wasn't there at all and your understanding of the series would still be fine.

For the sexual assaults in the early chapters. I dont fucking know man, why did she do that? I mean, we know why, she was trying to push the Blonde MC away as seen in the letter but uhh.. 🤷🤷🤷? Sexual misconducts, harrassment, and assault just makes me feel uncomfortable so this is the one I dont like with the series at all. To give meaning to it (just bcs i dont wanna gloss over it that fast), the black haired MC did that as an impulsive act of selfishness, isolation, and fear of companionship. Early chapters has her shown as shackled by her family's legacy so she was cold and also fucked up.

Another thing are the supporting characters, there's this middle schooler that just fucking REEKS of trauma and the series just doesn't address that. It's so funny bcs you are 13 girl, don't talk as if you're in that grown up world you keep talking about. They're all great tho, even if they felt flat. One thing i keep noticing with nowadays consumption of literary is that every character has to be well-rounded, no it doesn't! its fine if the main cast are the only rounded ones! but yeah, that middle schooler has to be stopped. Please author, what the fuck is wrong with that kid😭☠️

Overall, its really not as bad as its reputation precedes it to be. Its weird yeah but not as weird as the majority of people say it to be. Its fluffy and drama and it definitely wasn't made for men. It's really whatever and only got its reputation bcs of that weird ass anime adaptation thats trying to cater to those freak ass "otakus". Saying that word makes me feel disgusted, jesus christ. I have mixed feelings if its a series I'd recommend bcs there are other series that are better but what i'm sure is its an okay read. I'm big to romance and drama and this series has that. It didn't make me cry but it made me feel tense and sad for the characters, and in my book thats a successful attempt at those genre.

My only gripe with it really is the unnecessary incest and SA, thats why its getting a low score for me. Everything else was fine

anw balls

[askdacast]

I don’t really get the way The Chosen portrays Jesus. When one of his disciples gets something half right by offering to help Jesus carry stuff out of the goodness of his heart, Jesus responds with a half assed, “Thank you but…” When Jesus orders his disciples to work with wheat, Jesus acts like an earthly king by not even being there to work with them. Jesus also rudely interrupts one of his disciples when that disciple tries to tell him about an idea to raise funds.

Hey anon, forgive me for not answering your questions directly. But seeing as you’ve been going around sending this same message to several different blogs talking about The Chosen, I do feel the need to address something else.

(IMPORTANT EDIT: if you’re not the same anon who’s been sending messages to @sojourner-between-worlds then please ignore this post, I wrote it with this assumption in mind)

First of all, while I’m not really particular about spoilers, you have to keep in mind: I’m a busy person. Most of us are, with jobs and lives outside the internet. I have my postgraduate studies right now, and lately because it has been quite busy, I haven’t had the time to catch up with The Chosen’s new episodes exactly as they are uploaded. I’m still stuck on episode 3, mind you, with basic knowledge of episode 4, and I won’t be able to catch up very quickly. I know it probably wasn’t your intention to spoil me, but coming into my asks and telling me directly about events I haven’t watched yet is just a tad rude in that regard, especially if I really DID care a lot about not being spoiled.

Which brings me to my next point - I have absolutely no problems discussing The Chosen, even critiquing it. I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn’t criticize anything about this show. It’s not like I have 100% positive things to say about this show either - as mentioned before, I quite disliked the ending of S4E3. So I’m usually more than glad to share my opinions, positive or otherwise about this show. And I don’t mind either you sharing your opinions and asking for a discussion.

However, it appears to me, from your asking this same anon Q to many blogs, that it’s not really a discussion you want, so much as to complain about things you don’t like and asking “big name blogs” (if you can even call us that, we are just random people on the internet…) to affirm your negative opinions about this show. And I’m sorry to say, I don’t intend to do that.

If it really was a discussion you wanted, you are free to make your own Tumblr blog to make your own critical posts. You can complain as you please, and you can even invite further discussion and other’s opinions. After all, reblogs are much easier to keep track of than anon asks. But instead, I see you not just repeating the same asks, but when a blog gives you an opinion you disagree with, you send further anon asks basically picking apart their opinions and arguing with them ad nauseam about how The Chosen has so many detail inaccuracies in the show.

Forgive me for being blunt, but there are so many better uses of your time than arguing with strangers online. This is neither healthy nor productive.

You need to remember The Chosen is NOT Gospel. It is entertainment - it is an adaptation of the Gospel. Artistic liberties and inaccuracies are bound to happen. ANY story - not just gospel-related ones, but adaptations of history, famous books etc. - will inevitably have to take some liberties as you move from book to screen, fact to fiction. Do I agree with all of these changes? Do I think the “it’s fiction” argument is a good excuse to just change the source to whatever I want? Of course not. One needs to respect the heart of their source material and what it’s trying to say. We will rarely agree 100% with the way something is adapted. But we need to approach these things with grace and some common sense, because adaptation in writing is really really really hard. Word for word faithfulness to the text will not always translate to the screen well, and liberties NEED to be taken in order to tell a good story.

Just because the Bible never says exactly where Jesus did XYZ miracle doesn’t mean The Chosen should just show them going nowhere. Just because we don’t know the half the disciples actual backgrounds, does not mean it would be better storytelling for Thomas, Thaddeus, Nathaniel etc. to just show up like “ayo Jesus I appeared from the ether and want to be your disciple.” It would be confusing, especially for a newcomer who knows nothing about the Bible!

As I said, The Chosen is not Gospel. It is a piece of entertainment to encourage people TO read the original gospels and form THEIR OWN opinions about who Jesus really is and what He came to do for us. Dallas Jenkins and co. have made NO claims to presenting gospel truth or a new gospel. All they have ever set out to achieve was to bring to light what the gospel is, why it is so important, and HOW it could be important to you too. We can absolutely disagree with how they have gone about this goal. But let’s not claim that the very act of making a tv show is the same as trying to rewrite the gospel.

If you still don’t like The Chosen despite other people’s opinions, that’s 100% fine. You are entitled to your opinions, and you can hold firm to them. Ironically, going around asking people to agree with you, and angrily arguing with them when they disagree, only shows a lack of conviction in your opinions, that you NEED someone (people online whom you’ve never met no less) to tell you that you’re right. I’m not asking you to like this show, but to have some grace towards the people who do - the people who’ve really been touched by God through this show - and the people who’ve made this a possibility.

I am, once again, not saying you cannot criticize this show. But I am imploring you to do so in a way that doesn’t tear people down, but builds them up. If you don’t like how The Chosen portrays Jesus, then show people who the REAL Jesus is.

We are all doing our best to obey and serve the Lord with what’s in our hands, and only He alone can judge whether or not we’ve done the right thing. (Romans 14:3-4) I suggest you do the same.