#Still not going to go for him on principle. I don't like that fucking move.

[amplexadversary]

.

[rubys-domain]

yeah, i'm gonna skip the lyney/yelan banner. i'm fucking tired after the struggle to get kokomi. i might pull on the weapon banner if there's good 4 stars (namely sac sword/sac frag), but beyond that, i'm saving for venti's eventual rerun. at least on main.

on the alt, as much as i'd rather not, i'll still have to keep pulling. i decided to not do what i said i'd do and kept pulling on the kokomi banner anyway. since thoma refused to come home, i can at least try to get yanfei's c4. i'm already at c2, and i still want a rosaria anyway just for her exploration passive so why not. if xingqiu does rerun with yelan i'll probably be fine. i still have a decent amount of freemogem sources outside of archon quests. after that, i only want shenhe and zhongli and maybe beidou for a potential taser team. so i can be locked and loaded when another good claymore comes out that chong can use. that or just redhorn rerun. (seriously i'm waiting on beacon and hunter's path reruns so fucking hard but who knows when that'll ever happen.) the good thing about redhorn is that refinements aren't as appealing since, having fairly low base def, the passive doesn't really apply to chong. still hoping navia or wriothesley bring about new claymores that chong can use that are better than redhorn. tho if wrio's gonna be a standard banner character then i hope his weapon is shit for chong so i don't have to feel bad about not being able to get it like i do with beacon

[dreamofjoys]

— CHARGES

Synopsis: The Chief Justice of Fontaine would like to press charges against you for making him break his own principles

C/W: afab, smut, 4.0 archon quest spoilers, public sex, unprotected sex, spanking, you call him your honour, begging, he calls you doll, fingering

A/N: I told myself not to write genshin fics but this man just took my whole breath away

"Do you know why you are here?" Neuvillette's mint breath fan over your ear, hips bucking up to push his lengthy girth back into your hole. "N-no, your honour." You couldn't stop the string of wanton moans that fell out of your lips as Neuvillette fucks you roughly, folding you into half just to get better access to your pussy. You nearly screamed when his dick hits on a spongy soft spot in your pussy that has you seeing stars.

Sensing that it was your weak spot, the chief judge continues to abuse that spot, punctuating each thrust in a slow yet hard manner. "I am pressing charges against you," the judge finally speaks, flipping you onto your back with his dick still rock hard inside you. "for making me break my own principles." You yelped when you felt a sharp vertical pain on your butt. Looking back at Neuvillette with teary eyes, you realised that he was spanking you with the cane that he carries around whenever he holds trials to establish order.

"Neuvi, it hurts." A tear fell from your eye as your butt burns in pain. Neuvillette's heart swooned when he hears the nickname. "Oh, but does this hurt?" you moaned when his dick moves again to kiss your cervix. "I-I like this one more, Neuvi. Pl-please don't hit me with that." You tried your very best to give a pitiful puppy dog eye, even pushing your lower lips out to look more pitiful. However, such mere tricks does not work on the judge who has been delivering sentence on a daily basis, especially if it's one that is of high status.

"Doll, didn't you hear what I say just now?" One of his hand reaches down to rub circles on your clit, playing with the bundles of nerves like a fidget toy. "I am going to press charge against you. Reason being? You made me break my own principles." His slim yet long fingers join his member in to stretch your pussy hole, making you moan in delight at the feeling of being stuffed full. You move your hips up and down, bouncing on his cock and fingers to chase your high.

Neuvillette could feel his usually composed aura falling down. He grabs you by your breast, lifting you up so that your back is finally pressed against his front.

"I am not like this," His dick now drills into your hole at an immensed speed while both of his hands has switched to fondle your breast. "We are in the High Court of Fontaine, where trials are held everyday. And yet here I am, ruining you on the very own chair that I sit to deliver those trials." You didn't care what he was saying, choosing to bounce on his dick like a slut, chasing after the high.

"Look at the scale, it's tipping towards my favour." Neuvillette grabs you by the chin to look at the large scale, the main source of power for delivering the final verdicts in all trials at Fontaine. "It's all because of you, that I have desires to take you on my seat, " you suck onto the fingers that Neuvillette had inserted into your mouth. " It's all because of you, that I am fucking you in this empty court," You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, your gonna-

"It's all because I like you, that's why Im losing my composure everyday. The desire to claim you is greater than the desire to act like the proper Chief Judge."

You let out the sinnest mewl when the knot releases, milking the judge's coat like a waterfall. It wasn't long before you feel warm ropes of cum painting your walls, filling your womb with his seeds.

"You are definitely guilty, Y/N."

[tsukisrants]

Crawling Back To You - Kim Taehyung

Pairings: Kim Taehyung x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.614

Warnings: Rough sex, Face-fucking, Weed, Taehyung smokes, Possessive behavior, Toxic relationships, Face-Slapping, Creampie.

“Taehyung is your ex boyfriend. You guys aren’t together. Not anymore.

It doesn’t really matter. You’re still his.”

smut under the cut

You check your phone.

Again, and again.

You check who has viewed the story you posted almost obsessively.

His name is not there.

How could it be? You blocked his account.

But you see it. That nickname. You know it's him, and it sends a shiver down your body.

The photo you posted was taken specifically for him.

It's provocative, but not explicit.

You have that look.

The one you know makes him lose control.

You smile as you lick your lips.

You try to go on with your afternoon: you tidy up the house, make yourself a coffee.

Then, you hear that sound.

You have a new message.

You pick up the phone, and your heart skips a beat.

You don't know the number, but you know who it is.

"8:45 pm, my place."

You take a deep breath.

You hate him.

You can't stand him.

But your panties are already wet.

"Sorry, who are you?" you ask on purpose, wanting to make him nervous, to make him mad.

"8:45. Not a minute late," he replies.

Against every part of you, every principle, you arrive at 9:00 pm.

Or rather, you arrive on time, but wait 15 minutes before ringing the doorbell insistently.

Taehyung doesn't open it.

He makes you wait another 5 minutes, as if to punish you, before yelling to use the keys under the mat.

You want to leave indignantly, but before you can realize it, you're inside.

The lights are dim, there's music, and your nostrils are immediately hit by the strong smell of weed.

He's on the couch, sitting with his legs wide open.

Tae is not wearing a shirt.

He's wearing the pants of a tracksuit, and you notice his new haircut.

It's shorter, shaved on the sides.

Damn, if you like it.

The warmth that spreads throughout your body is proof of it.

"You're late," he says.

As he does, he blows smoke in your direction, scrutinizing your body from head to toe. He licks his lips as he runs a hand through his hair.

You're wearing a shirt he doesn't recognize: that's because it's not his.

It's Jungkook's, and he knows it.

You two are friends, and you've even dated him for a little while.

He hates it.

Taehyung hates seeing you like this.

You love seeing him like this.

"You're high," you reply.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, motioning for you to join him.

You do, of course you do.

Your body programmed to follow his every order.

Every request.

When you're in front of the couch, he taps his hand on his thigh.

When you ignore that clear signal, he grabs you by the waist and makes you fall onto his legs.

Tae’s body is under yours, and his smell fills up your senses: you missed it.

He blows smoke in your face, and with one hand he tears off your shirt.

He lets it fall to the ground, kicking it away with his foot.

"Whore," he growls.

"Asshole," you retort.

Then, his lips are on yours.

Ferocity and hunger.

Anger.

Desire.

A kiss that tastes of revenge and possession, between one puff of smoke and another.

Wet tongues fighting against each other.

Taehyung’s hands running over your body.

He unfastens the bra you're wearing, letting it fall forgotten on the couch.

He kisses your breast, bites it.

Marks it.

You shiver and move your hips: you rub against him, and he smirks.

To punish him, you grab his hair.

To punish you, he scratches your nipples before biting them.

You gasp in pain.

In pleasure.

For him.

He laughs, and pushes his pleasure against yours. You feel his clothed cock rub against your pussy, and it’s phenomenal: like he was made for you.

"Fuck, I missed you," he mumbles.

"And me? Did you miss me, little one?" he asks.

He already knows the answer, but he seeks confirmation by slipping a hand between your legs, straight into your pants.

He teases you over your panties, feeling how wet they are.

He looks into your eyes as he moves them aside.

He rubs his fingers against you, sliding them between your folds and pressing down your swollen clit, teasing it over and over again.

“Seems like you missed me, too,” Tae says, moving forward to bite your lips.

Then, as you tremble against him, he slides his hand off your panties.

He brings them to his mouth, shining in the dim light of the room.

Taehyung licks them, puts them in his mouth.

You watch, helplessly, as he licks them clean.

"You taste so good," he murmurs.

"Oh God..." you whisper.

Tae undresses you completely.

He forces you to kneel down, and spreads his legs.

"Suck it a little," he tells you.

As he does, he grabs his cock from above his pants, relieving some of the pain he feels not having your lips tight around him.

Soon, he sinks into your mouth.

He smokes as he does.

He throws his head back, blowing smoke up.

He fucks up into your mouth, forcing his cock past your throat and making you choke on his length. Spit gather at the corners of your mouth, spilling down your chin and down his dick.

Taehyung moans, gasps your name.

His legs tremble.

You touch his chest as you suck him off.

You scratch him, and he almost comes, just like that.

He stops you before that can happen.

Despite the pleasure he’s feeling, he wants more. Way more.

He leaves your mouth and hat sweet warmth, and he rubs the tip of his cock against your lips, then your face.

Tae slams it against your tongue, your cheek.

Droplets of pre-cum hit your face, and it’s so dirty it should make you ashamed: it only makes you hornier for him.

"You like it, don't you? Posting those pics, making me angry? But we both know that this is your place. You always come back to me, in the end."

You want to argue back, but you can't.

You’re not that good at lying, after all.

You both know this.

Taehyung leans over to finally take off all his clothes.

The joint he was smoking is almost finished.

You see it.

He looks at you, while he does it.

He flicks it on Jungkook’s shirt.

He bends down, and extinguishes the joint against the fabric, piercing and marking it indelibly.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you try to say.

He grabs your hair, pulls it.

His face is against yours.

"You're mine. Never dare to do something like that again," he growls.

His breath is heavy against your face, and you can sense his anger as it radiates from his body.

Inside you, you smile.

Damn, that's exactly what you wanted.

He pushes you against the couch.

He bends down.

He buries his face against you, between your legs.

He eats you out for a while, your hands finding support in his hair.

He tastes you, dives into your pussy like a starving man.

Taehyung sucks on your clit and his chin shines with your sweet juices.

You come just like that: moaning his name and trembling with your legs wrapped around his neck.

He knows your body so fucking well, it’s unfair.

No one can fuck you and make you cum like he does.

Then, he spits on you.

Just like that, to prepare your pussy for his cock.

You shiver and moan, trembling under him.

Tae gets closer and slides the tip of his cock, red and swollen, against your cunt, teasing you until tears start to fill up your eyes.

The head pops in, and you instantly tighten up, legs jerking as your body tries to open up for him.

Then, he thrusts into your body in one motion.

It hurts.

You love it to death.

"Say it. Say that you're mine. Say that it's mine," he orders.

You refuse to do it, shaking your head.

The smirk on his face scares you.

Tae can’t help but fuck into you a little harder as he enjoys your fear.

The pain wakes you up.

Taehyung hits you: a slap on the face.

Then, he grabs your chin, forcing your gazes to lock onto each other.

Palm resting on your throat, fingers digging into your jaw.

Just hard enough to make you blink you eyes wide open, fucked out, tongue almost lolling out of your mouth.

"Say it, or I'll stop fucking you."

"I'm yours. It's yours..."

It's not enough for him.

He thrusts inside of you forcefully, slamming into you with a passion he's never had before.

"What? What is mine? Say it."

"M-my... my pussy, it's yours. Fuck, Tae, please..."

You tremble. You feel every inch of his cock as it fills you up.

It’s sweet, Taehyung thinks, because you give in so easily for him so he doesn’t even have to lift a finger.

He thrusts into you.

One, two, three times.

He buries his face in the hollow of your neck.

As he comes, he whispers your name.

He wants and wants and wants and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop wanting you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop needing you, either.

"Y-Y/N... fuck, baby."

You hold him close.

You hold him as he finishes inside of you, filling you up.

You feel every pump of his seed as it gushes inside your pussy.

He stays in your body, a little longer.

You wrap your legs around his waist.

He gently kisses one of your cheeks.

He laughs.

You laugh, too.

"Will you stay?" he asks, hesitantly.

"I'll stay," you reply.

Taehyung smiles and then kisses you.

You kiss him.

You're home.

[graciewrote]

♡ Forever and Always

♡ LS2 x Vowels!Reader

♡ Inspired by the lovely @pucksandpower ly!!

♡ Likes and reblogs appreciated!

♡Reqs open!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Staring at her screen in shock, Y/N looks at the signing announcement. Glancing at Logan, sat with a smile on his face, she frowns.

"Darling, did something happen?"

Turning to her boyfriend, "They signed Carlos, but-"

"Oh."

"Oh baby, he didnt tell you? Bastard."

"He's your father. He just probably didn't want to upset you."

"To hell with that, Logan. He was discussing a contract with you and fuckings signs Sainz! It's not fair. To play with someones dreams, their life, like that. He's an ass, my dad or not, he's an ass for that."

Looking at each other now, the pain in Logan's eyes is obvious.

She moves to comfort her love, the man she's loved for years.

He didn't tell her when he signed for Williams, or even when his contract was extended. He knew no matter what, she'd be there. A singular tear slips down his face. His girl more upset than him. He thought he was going to be getting another shot to prove himself, but alas the cards did not play that way.

Phone chiming as Oscar texts, asking if the couple are okay. One single message from her father. 'I'm sorry' is all he wrote.

She knows its a business at the end of the day, but how can one be expected to perform against a grid of 2024 cars, when he is racing one from 2023. When his own boss, future father-in-law is saying how much he wants to replace him. He never stood a chance, he was only a seat warmer. Logan's head is a mess. All that's running through his mind is how much he failed, every fuck up, every DNF, Australia, and the only light he sees is her. His Y/N.

No matter what his future holds, he has his girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan has all of summer break to wallow in sadness. Cuddled with Y/N, watching trashy TV. As quick as ever, Zandvoort rolls around, and he is dreading facing the media.

Luck is not on Logan's side, forced to be on the press conference with Carlos. However Oscar's there too!

Most of the press don't bother to ask him anything, just assuming he won't have a seat and has nothing to add.

Logan's heard things about team principles shitting on Vowels, and the way he's treating Logan.

"And to Logan-" shocks him out of his daydream, "How did your girlfriend react when she found out you hadn't resigned with Williams?"

Logan chuckled, "Uhm, actually, we found out at the same time, James and I had been discussing a contract, and discussing my performance. I had no idea he'd signed Carlos. So yeah, bit of a shock to us both."

"And did you know, Carlos, that James was discussing with Logan?" Everyone looks at Carlos now. His respone is immediate.

"At first yes, I knew Logan was still a contender, but then he'd said that it was just me. So I didn't sign knowing Logan was still discussing contracts"

"And what does everyone think of Andretti appealing the FOM desicion and winning, now they'll be joining the grid for the 2025 season?" Everyone looka shocked at the interviewers question. Everyone but Logan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qatar. Hot. Humid. Sweaty. That's what Y/N feels standing in the Williams garage. Still, she's there to support Logan. And that's what matters. However, she is suspicious. Hiding phone calls, changing his phone password which used to be their anniversary. Logan's become really skittish since Carlos' signing was announced. He won't be cheating on her, she's sure of that. She has two thoughts, he's either joining Mick in the second Andretti Porsche seat, or he's proposing soon. Focusing back on qualifying, she notices all purple sectors for a Williams, her Logan's Williams.

Last minute of Q1. P13. He's done it.

The garage cheers and she just beams with pride.

Logan makes it to Q3, ending up P6.

He's happy with it.

~~~~~~~~

December rolls around with no news on Andretti's other driver. It's a hot topic in the media. Some think it'll be a rookie, some say Kimi or Seb will come back.

Logan grins going into the media pen after his best quali yet. This is his moment. He has a point to make.

"Logan! P5! How're you feeling?" Logan loves being interviewed by Natalie Pinkham.

"Feeling good, car is handling well, I always love racing here. It feels even better knowing next year I got a new team behind me." Smirking, he knows Natalie will pick up what he means. He just needs her to ask.

"New team?" Bingo!

"Yeah, Andretti reached out to me after

Monza, and well, yeah I just had to take the offer! Racing with Mick, and along side him will be fun! He's a good driver. We both had a rough two seasons to start, but the only way is up!"

" Thank you Logan! And good luck!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting down, he glances at his phone.

Over 50 missed calls from his love.

"LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT! I MIGHT JUST KILL YOU YET!" He knows she's not angry, upset he didn't tell her, but not angry.

"You know gold washes me out!"

He laughs, of course she makes a joke.

That's why he loves her, she knows him better than anyone.

"Marry me"

Shit. He had a whole plan. He was gonna take her to Venice. They love Venice.

"Yes. I found the ring, two weeks ago, but I know you Lo, you have a whole plan. So my answer is yes. When you ask me properly. It's yes."

Giggling they embrace and share a tender kiss. "I'm so proud of you. I love you Lo, forever and always"

"Forever and always baby, me and you against the world"

[kosmicdream]

oh now i want to know why you hate one piece (just so you know where im coming from, i used to hate the series and thought was the stupidest thing ever and there was no way it was good, and then i read it and it was amazing and i loved it and it moved me in profound ways, and yet i did not forget why i thought it was stupid and indeed i can still fully see why someone would think it is stupid because, lets be honest, it is kind of really stupid so) yeah, im curious

i once loved it as a late teen, i even had one piece ocs LOL. One Piece is not bad because its stupid, or has toony art style or w/e .. but it is bad because its betrayed all the characters and core principles of the story that it pretended to be so invested in. in so many ways its honestly impressive. While i don't agree w/ everything said - youtuber Drizzt has made a very long mutli-series video essays about the various issues and i have enjoyed watching them as it covers arcs that i could not force myself to read. I personally kept reading to the mermaid island arc, but emotionally i dont think it was good when they reached the grand line. (laboon stuff was cute, but after that.. trouble) i dont really like alabasta arc and i feel like every arc after that, is just trying to do that arc again but worse every time. (all complete w/ a new princess character to be tossed aside for the next round..) i hated robins backstory and her part in water 7 (she was my fav female character in the series & i loved her powers.) i wanted usopp to leave the crew or have some real consequences w/ him and the ship. i hate luffy being like such a chosen one in so many ways he has 0 agency in the story, there's some to be expected but now its like at the point where i dont even know what else you could add. he really is the nepo baby of the one piece world. no one dies EVER and i dont even count ace dying bc who gives a fuck abt ace, luffy sure doesnt cuz he got over it in like 1 chapter after he died w and now he has a new retcon brother (who also was dead at least once i think and had amnesia) to fill in the void. franky is ugly as shit now. i could go ON.

[akoyaxs]

˚༄ Tìyora Pt 3 ༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies w Benefits ༊ 3.7k words Warnings: a little bit of jealousy, denial and delusion, reader sucks dick, in this fanfic the Metkayina don't give head (m recieving) if that makes sense? THIS IS A SERIES and can be found on my MASTERLIST!!!! *Note that reader is practically Neytiri's twin, like mother like daughter. I chose this photo bc when writing I like picturing an OC or different face in my mind, and this one looks different enough from Neytiri's other scenes, but similar enough that reader has all the good Sully genes*

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

You weren’t at all expecting yourself to stick to the arrangement. It wasn’t a horrendous proposition; Aonung had proved himself fair and square, and if you were being honest, he had probably ruined you for anyone else. But it was out of principle that you tried to fight against your stupid fucking horniness.

But after training, you found yourself hot and bothered, and suddenly the training grounds were empty (Aonung having ordered everyone away), and suddenly you’re bent over on the sand, arms pillowed and back arched as he “taught you the ways of the Metkayina”.

It was just a one time thing, you promised yourself. It didn’t matter that yesterday you’d been fucked into oblivion, or that this afternoon you’d been riding him like your life depended on it, and tomorrow you’d be pinned against the floor of your marui while your family tamed their ilu, Aonung’s face nestled eagerly between your thighs and hands holding your squirming body still.

But nothing changed the fact that these “incidents” were becoming less accidental and more as though you accepted his offer to help each other out, which is probably why every few days you’d find him buried deep into you, fucking you rough or slow or just plain smugly.

Because he was smug about it. Until the day he found out that he was indeed sharing.

You had been right about one thing; he was selfish. He was entitled. He wasn’t about to be splitting your time with lesser skxawngs that would amount to nothing in their stupid, non-olo’eyktan lives. He certainly wasn’t going to be happy that after this last almost month as you both benefited from the “arrangement”, you’d been going around with other guys when he’d survived off the pleasure you gave him. And the most unforgivable thing was how he found out.

As future Olo’eyktan and a great warrior, Aonung was often the highest ranking at the training grounds when his father wasn’t there. He’d had all the warriors paired up and sparring, and you’d already matched with Moy’ka before he could even make his way over. Which was fine.

Aonung didn’t chase. If you wanted to train with another guy, it didn’t affect him. Especially because it was training, and only training. He could just as easily have you bent over this very sand in an hour, and he highly doubted Moy’ka would have the ability to make you sob in the way Aonung does.

So he takes his leisurely time strolling around, checking on the warriors and entertaining small conversation with batty-eyes, hair-twirling girls. You glance over a few times, and Aonung would be lying if he said he didn’t keep half an eye on the placement of Moy’ka, especially every time you very easily won each fight with him under you.

But at the very end of the line, he sees a pair of warriors not training. With a frown, he moves over to tell them off for disobeying his instructions, but once he realises where they’re looking and what they’re discussing, he simply stands to the side to listen.

“Eywa, look at Moy’ka,” Ta’ru snorts, smacking Tsekoye in incredulous amusement. “Trying to spit game at her.”

“As if he could get with her,” Tsekoye leers, and Aonung smirks quietly to himself. But the next words have that grin smacked off his face. “I know she isn’t picky about who she spends her time with, but even Moy’ka is pushing it.”

“That’s practically the new iknimaya,” Ta’ru smirks. “Fucking the freak.”

At that, Aonung’s heart drops ominously in his chest. He doesn’t like the connotation of that at all, that you’re so common that most of the warriors have experienced you. And he certainly doesn’t like the realisation that you’re giving pleasure to other, unworthy, snivelling skxawngs.

“She sure is freaky,” Tsekoye chuckles, looking infuriatingly smug with himself in a way that makes Aonung want to pound him into the sand for some strange reason. “She’s good though.”

“Yeah, these other Metkayina girls have nothing on her,” Ta’ru snickers. “Shame she’s spreading her love and not sticking around, I could teach her the ways of the reef, if you know what I mean.”

“What, you want to be her teacher?” Tsekoye skeptically asks his friend. “And how would Aonung feel about that, if you try to replace him just so you can fool around?”

Aonung’s ears prick up. He’d never really liked Ta’ru at the best of times, but he should step carefully with what he says next. Going against your future Olo’eyktan isn’t a smart move at the best of times, and Aonung isn’t in the most patient mood.

“Hey, at least I’ll get around with her,” Ta’ru shoves Tsekoye. “Maybe she’ll do that mouth thing again.”

“She smells good too,” Tsekoye. “I could tell when she was doing that thing. She smells like jasmine and amber and… there’s one more thing,” he grumbles. “I just can’t think of it-”

“So maybe you should do less thinking,” Aonung rumbles, finally cutting into the conversation without bothering to hide the irritation in his voice, “and get back to training. You know, like you’re supposed to be doing.”

Both warriors flush and scramble into positions, muttering apologies and blah blah blah. Aonung just rolls his eyes and stalks away towards you. He can see just how well your fight is going; Moy’ka is pinned below you for the eleventh time, and Aonung feels another surge of irritation that he’s obviously making no real effort to buck you off him.

Aonung stands beside the two of you for a few moments, where you’re clearly growing bored with the fight and irritated with the lack of any real competition. Aonung isn’t used to being ignored, so of course his patience is thin as he waits, eyes narrowed and arms folded.

Eventually you slowly roll your head up to glower at him, as though it was Aonung’s fault that you’re stuck with this skxawng. Nothing is ever Aonung’s fault, or at least, no one had ever said something was Aonung’s fault. But it had been stubbornly obvious, and increasingly so in the last month, that you couldn’t give two fucks about treating him with the respect due to an Olo’eyktan’s son.

“Yes?” you say stiffly, carelessly cracking your neck before resuming your bored glare.

“I need to speak with you,” Aonung says clearly, his irritation and now impatience evident once more.

“Right now?” you ask, your voice dull and eyes disinterested.

“Yes,” Aonung responds curtly.

But you don’t stand up. His tone could not have made it plainer that he’d said an order. You may not care if he’s the future Olo’eyktan, but he was still your superior, and respect was due. And now people are starting to look over, and unless you want to cause a scene, it’s obvious that you should just go with Aonung.

Reluctantly, you clamber up. Aonung doesn’t offer you a hand, and he doubts you would have accepted it anyway. Wordlessly, the two of you leave the training grounds, both ignoring the watchful eyes on your backs as you trail along the beach.

Girls are staring with envy at you, but Aonung notices you pretend you can’t feel the burn of their glares on your back. It also reminds him that while he’s been abstaining from other girls and solely living off the pleasure you provide him, you’ve also been partitioning your time with others. That particular remembrance sparks that same irritation, and he finds his face folding into an frown.

Which is deepened by the gaze on his back, of all the male warriors lusting after you. Really, he’s disappointed. His warriors shouldn’t be desiring a freak, an outsider. Even if it makes him a hypocrite, Aonung would prefer to be a hypocrite that didn’t have to share.

And then, finally, the gazes are promptly cut off as you pass through the edge of the bay. You don’t question Aonung leading you over the rocks, and he’s surprised by your placidity, when he usually can’t get you to shut the fuck up. You just keep your head up and follow him, slightly confused and definitely suspicious.

You’d had too many incidents of this, agreeing to “private discussions” with Aonung which end up with either you or him getting fucked out to the point you’re panting (or even practically sobbing after one unfortunate yet extremely satiating occasion), or often both.

Finally, you pass over the rocks sheltering the main bay of the village and step onto the soft sand of the beach beyond. Aonung doesn’t walk any further, so you pause beside him, standing by the rock wall.

“Is there a reason we’re here?” you ask. “Would you like something, or did you just bring me to this ominous empty beach to do… what?”

“You’ve been messing around with the clan,” Aonung says plainly, and your brows furrow. “With the warriors. I do not approve-”

“Is that you’re worried about?” you scoff. “Aonung, it is none of your business-”

“I am to be your Olo’eyktan-”

“To be. Not yet,” you say through gritted teeth, but you’re biting your tongue a lot more than usual. Usually by now, you’ve either descended into shouting or irritable violence, or you’re getting your annoyance out in other ways.

“I still outrank you,” Aonung counters. “I am a higher warrior, I am your commander.”

“So what, then?” you ask lewdly. “You want me to stop distracting your warriors? Am I tainting the purity of your clan by fucking around with my freakishness? Or is there another reason you’re acting so strange that you don’t want to say?”

“Like what?” Aonung frowns.

“You’re acting hypocritical,” you state. “Again. Like always. You’re always giving shit for people fucking me when you do the exact same. I’m as na’vi as you are; my skin colour and build doesn’t make me any different. As soon as anything comes to sex between me and some other guy that isn’t you-”

You cut yourself off, mouth parted in comprehensive surprise and eyes instantly jumping to meet his. Aonung squints at you, confused by your sudden apparent understanding of something he has no fucking idea about, and maybe even a little disorientated by the way you’re staring, wide-eyed, at him.

“What?” he asks, maybe even a little nervously.

“Are you jealous?” you ask incredulously.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Aonung blinks for a moment. You stare back, waiting. Arms folded, brows raised, a skeptical, startled look on your face. He blinks again.

“No.”

“Right,” you say blankly, with that infuriatingly incredulous on your face. Aonung has a desire to wipe that look off your face; your clear disbelief that he isn’t jealous (which his is not) makes him feel uneasy. He doesn’t need you of all people thinking he’s jealous of whatever the fuck you choose to do. He doesn’t care that much. He doesn’t care. “So why are we here then?”

“I- uh…” Aonung says, disoriented for a moment as he fishes in his mind for something to say. Then it lands on something Ta’ru and Tsekoye said, and he clings to it like Rotxo to Kiri. “What’s your mouth thing?”

“What?” you laugh incredulously.

“Your mouth thing,” Aonung says, throat feeling dry for some reason the longer you keep him pinned under the gaze of your yellow-golden eyes. “What is it? How come you never did it with me?”

You laugh again, a bright, amused sound that isn’t just from your lips, Aonung can see the glitter in your eyes as you grin at him.

“Aw, do you feel left out fishlips?” you grin, stepping closer.

“I’m just… no… no.” Aonung swallows, inwardly shouting at himself. Why is his throat so dry? “Do I not make you feel good enough?”

“Maybe I was just waiting for you to be a good boy,” you say slyly, stepping closer again, and Aonung finds himself shifting back a little. “A little reward.” Aonung blinks down at you, eyes wide and heart thumping strangely loud. “But you’ve been impatient and hypocritical, haven’t you?”

“No,” Aonung says firmly, and you laugh again.

When you step forward, Aonung once again finds himself shrinking back from the intensity of your golden gaze. But there’s nowhere left to go, because his back is met with cool, solid rock. You cock your head at him, and he does his best to maintain your gaze.

“Do you want me to show you?” you ask innocently, and Aonung nearly scoffs. You couldn’t be further from innocent; that was clear by the way you’re moving closer even as he’s backed against the rock wall. But then you’re cocking your head, clearly waiting for an answer. It’s evident you know what his reply is, but you’re having too much fun to let him off too easy. So with movements so tentative it makes Aonung cringe, he nods.

He’s not exactly sure what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not for you to lean in, for your hands to reach up to rest on his shoulders. He wasn’t anticipating them to slide down over his chest, over his abs. He watches with bated breath as they reach his tewng, where embarrassingly, he’s already hard.

You smirk up at him before lightly shoving at him and pushing him right against the rock wall. He obliges, remembering what you said about being a good boy and watches as you slide his tewng away and reach out to grab his hard length.

He nearly jerks away. Your hand feels small and cold, one steadying against his chest, the other soft and immobile on his cock as you pause. He’s not sure why he’s so restless; this isn’t the first time he’s felt your hands on him, but there’s something about this experimentation for him, something about having no idea what you’re going to do next, something about being too nervous to predict.

And then you’re doing something he never would have thought of. You’re sliding down his body and kneeling in front of him.

Aonung is so breathless from the sight of you on your knees in front of him, those bright golden eyes looking up at him through your lashes, lips soft and slightly parted. If he thought about it (which he doesn’t, does not), you could almost be pledging your allegiance. It takes him a moment to remember what’s going on while he’s distracted by your kneeling, but when your hand wraps itself around his length.

You blink up at him before leaning in, eyes still fixed on his, and licking a long stripe up his length. Automatically, Aonung flinches back, sucking in a sharp gasp and tail swinging in shock behind him, and you pull away a few inches, frowning up at him.

“You good, fishlips?”

“What- what?”

“Do you want me to do this?” you ask with a small frown. “If you don’t like it, or if it doesn’t feel good I can stop-”

“NO!” Aonung blurts quickly, loudly. Your brows furrow deeper, and he flushes. “I mean, you don’t have to stop. It felt good, I just… I wasn’t expecting it.”

Your frown fades to a small smirk, and you tighten your grip around his length slightly. When Aonung tenses, you lick another stripe along his length before closing your lips around the tip and swirl your tongue. Instantly, his head is tipped back against the stone, throat tight and body tense as he struggles to hold himself back. He doubts you’d approve of him accidentally thrusting in your mouth and he himself doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you.

Besides, you’re holding his hips still against the rock in a cruel imitation of how he’d pin you back, ignore your squirming and even overstimulation. This feeling is completely new, and you slowly bob your head up and down his length, curling your tongue on the underside, dragging warmly against his sensitive flesh.

And when you inhale deeply and take him down your throat, all warm and wet and hot around him, Aonung finds his hand falling to sink into your long dark hair, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a soft, rumbly, “fuck”.

And when he hits the back of your throat and you accidentally moan around his length, his hips accidentally buck into your mouth despite all his best efforts to compose himself, despite your small hand holding him back against the rock. Instantly your eyes fill with tears and Aonung hurriedly pulls you off him with a gentle grip on your hair.

“Shit, sorry,” he groans, flushing deeply. “Are you okay?”

“Just sit back,” you say, voice slightly lower than usual, a slight rasp to it that makes his ears prick up uncontrollably and send a thrill through his tail. “Be a good boy, yeah?” you add with a little playful pat to his ass, and Aonung rolls his eyes.

The retort on Aonung’s lips tumbles out as a low groan as you quickly take him back into your mouth, forcing yourself further down his length. You quietly pray to yourself that Aonung, having obviously never gotten sucked off before, doesn’t know that you’re struggling this much to fit him into his mouth. You sure as fuck aren’t about to tell him just how big his dick is.

Once again, Aonung leans against the rock wall to steady himself, head tipping back in ecstasy as you continue to soldier your way further down his length. Finally, your nose brushes against his navel, and you brush over Aonung’s grip in your hair, a silent indicator that it’s alright for him to move. You pass him the reins.

It’s a dance between his hips rolling his cock into your throat and his large hands guiding your head up and down his length. He’s being more gentle than you would have thought; he usually fucks with purpose, but his hands are gently tangled in your hair, and every so often gather it back up so it doesn’t fall into your face.

Aonung feels like he’s an inexperienced teenager again. Not that he’s ever felt anything like this, but the sensitivity of him, and the fact he’s probably likely to come at any given moment if he meets your defiant gaze doesn’t exactly match up the confident person he is. Especially when you suck the tip of his cock back into your mouth, the first mouth he’d ever felt. 

All the while you watch hip, eyes flicking up to his face. He’s not looking at you in particular. Aonung’s head is tipped back against the rock, throat bobbing with heavy swallows of moans, but his little whimpers and groans and curses tumble through the gaps.

And Aonung was about to lose his mind. He was determined to avoid your gaze, which he could feel burning into his face. He couldn’t hold it right now, match your glare or confusingly understanding look that drives him crazy, no. Any sort of glance at you would be too much, and then he’d lose control. He’s already practically leaking into your mouth as it is.

Your mouth is so small and warm and wet. He’s barely restraining his moans as it is, but with your tongue swirling around him, your cheeks hollowing and the sensitive flesh brushing against your soft, swollen lips, Aonung’s dangerously close to the edge.

It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s hot. It’s a warm mix of saliva and precum that’s shining over your lips and when Aonung finally can’t take it anymore, he sees it’s dripping down your chin to your tits. And the longer he looks, the more he stares, and the less likely it is he can look away again.

And then when Aonung notices, it’s all over. Your eyes are brimming with tears, lashes dark and wet as you stare up through them. Your lips are puffy and shiny, and every so often you let out these little moaned whimpers that vibrate around him and shove him closer and closer to the edge. Your lips are flushed and practically fucked by his length, and that’s what makes him leap headfirst over the edge.

Aonung’s a mess of strangled groans and bucking hips and hands sinking into your hair as he hungrily crests. Your tongue slides along the veins and ridges of his cock, and he knows this could probably kill him. Still, there are worse ways to go.

When he finally comes undone, when he finally comes back to himself and remembers to pull you off him, he feels like you’ve punched the fucking breath out of him. It’s just you, he decides. It’s not like this with anyone else, this tense, this hot, this tight.

With what is only immense courage, Aonung tentatively tilts your face up towards him. You look like an absolute mess; hair slightly dishevelled from his desperate grip, eyes watery and lips puffed and swollen. But you’ve never looked so beautiful as now, your face ruined by his length, glowing tahnì scattered with his own release.

Which is how Aonung comes to the realisation that he does think you’re beautiful.

“Are you alright, forest girl?” he asks quietly, hand still gently holding your face up to him. You smile weakly, not bothering to wipe the shine of tears and release on your face.

“Forest girl,” you reply quietly. “What happened to freak?”

Aonung laughs under his breath. Even he doesn’t have an answer to that, not one he can explain with words in any case. Instead, he reaches out to brush your face clean and pulls you up to your feet. You don’t protest. As you stand up, he catches your scent in the warm beach air.

The training grounds are still full when you return, but neither of you miss the careful stolen glances at the pair of you returning from across the sand. Aonung pays no mind to any of them, instead strolling right over to Ta’ru and Tsekoye.

“It’s lillies,” Aonung whispers, a sly grin stretching his face.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

༊ Taglist: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean Okay let me know if i forgot someone hope you pookie pies enjoyed 🙃

[ttkinnie]

@gratuiciel tbh I wonder how they even met. Probably Kisaki's trying to find strong people for Toman and he hears of the reaper of Kabukicho. But how do Takemichi and Mikey react to that?

The two of them are even worse than Kisaki alone in bringing up unwanted memories. I feel like final timeline Kisaki would kind of be perceived as a timebomb by the maitake duo, they unconsciously treat his actions with the veneer of the things he did in the other timelines. Plus his personality is still the same, he can still do the worst things to reach his goals, and they are probably so uncomfortable with that. Trying to rein him in, quell any desire for power. But is it power? Because Kisaki didn't do all of that for the sake of power, he did it for love. Does Takemichi think about that, when Kisaki (maybe) moves on from Hinata? That he could find someone else to get obsessed with, and do the same things he's done in every previous timeline. So unintentionally (or not if you want to go dark <- yum) they destroy his attempts at finding love/acceptance because he could fall in that same pit.

Enter Hanma, who's the incarnation of not giving a fuck about proper boundaries and rules, breaking every principle maitake tried to instil in Kisaki. And with Kisaki so deprived of affection, still so lonely and with no goal to distract himself, he would be so enclined to get interested in Hanma. Because I feel like Hanma would still find that little loser interesting, with his mask of arrogance and his empty position in Toman, how his group of "friends" don't even appreciate him but won't let him reach out to anyone else.

And Takemichi wouldn't like that influence on Kisaki, would try to get them as far apart as possible. Maybe that's why Hanma is a photographer who spends most of his time outside Japan as an adult? Idk there's something in there.

[bengiyo]

Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear Ep 11 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

This watch made possible by @isaksbestpillow.

Last time, Daichi's dad came back into the picture and dumped a heaping pile of homophobia right on top of our favorite boy. Daichi, despite all his courage and conviction, balked before his father. No one was able to say much to Daichi; not Madoka, not Makoto. Makoto wasn't sure how to interject himself in this situation, and hesitated because he wanted to move properly. At work, there was discussion about people being downsized and laid off, and how that ruined relationships once a man could no longer provide. Meanwhile, Kakeru is struggling with the ethics of makeup after he helped his friend pretend to be a kind of girl she isn't. Finally, when no one else seemed like they could talk to Daichi, Kakeru reminded us that he's Makoto's son and meddled directly. We left at Daichi's dad being horrible to Kakeru, and Makoto stormed off to confront the man once he found out.

I really like how vile this final villain is with his presentation as reasonable and principled. He uses a soft tone, but he's constantly turning things around to be cruel. He made his son suffer, and he was rude to Kakeru. I almost wonder if he provoked Kakeru just so he had the leverage to demand the Okita family stay away from Daichi. He's an excellent villain, because you have to use all the empathy and compassion the show brought out of you to resist this man's flawed logic.

Wow, Makoto gets it. I am gonna cry because I'm so proud of him for not losing his conviction.

Madoka, my guy, what are you doing? This is a big problem you should face together.

Oh, Kakeru, you were so harsh to everyone all season about how they talked to you. It's hard to talk to people isn't it?

OOF Mor is also dealing with the expectations of society at large. We're really building to a finale.

And now Mika might be losing her job!

My family is in crisis!

Truly so special that Makoto has finally reached an understanding with his family that he realized what was wrong with each of them.

No! Don't ruin the sanctity of the park!! Gays, get it together!!

"Why are there so many obstacles to overcome if you're gay?" Bitch, me too, the fuck!!

It did feel like a barrier had formed between Daichi and Makoto. I'm sad and frustrated.

Y'all are gonna kill this old man.

Okay, what bad news did Furuike get, because my man just reiterated that when you grow up your heart dies?

Oh, Furuike, you've come along as well. Responding to the info that Shimura realized what was going on with him that she should be promoted is excellent growth. I also love him reminding Makoto that he's not dead yet. Life is still worth living.

I love Makoto recognizing that he was asked to be the matchmaker. He needs to know that the rules of the society can be turned for the betterment of people even in the modern age.

KAKERU'S TELLING SHIZUKA HIS FEELINGS OVER MAKEUP

"Making noise to help you forget is also what friends are for." Y'all I'm overwhelmed.

"If I'm ever unsure of myself, I'll ask Kakeru-tan to do my makeup." STOP MAKING ME CRY.

Actually so important that this show reiterates that even straight people get rejected constantly by others for failing to be what others want them to be

Of course Moe's full pen name is Pectoralis Major Huge Melons. I love her.

I'm so happy to see Makoto and Mika talking about things over chores together. I'm so proud of Mika, too.

Save us, Carlos!!!

YES, MEDDLE!!

Wow, this is the best show I've ever seen. The Okita family showed up exactly as themselves, with their passions plain, and stood before Daichi in front of this cruel man. Makoto demolished that man entirely, and said plainly that he is cruel to his son.

Daichi said it! If I change myself like that then I won't be myself!

Don't let the door hit you on the way out!!

So thankful that this show gave us that scene between Mihoko and Daichi. Sometimes we have to accept that people important to us won't accept us, but we must remember that we have those who will.

Way to release the tension with an old man's underwear and his kids dunking on him.

THEY SAID THE NAME OF THE SHOW! FINISH YOUR DRINKS!!

Of course Makoto is a crying, sloppy mess during the wedding. I love him.

What a beautiful finish.

Final Verdict: 11, Television Can Still Be Good. Truly, I don't know how else to describe this other than as one of the most important things I've ever watched in the last 20 years of engaging with stories about queer people. Seeing the Okita family reveal their passions and blast Daichi's dad like Care Bears as Makoto tells him he's a cruel asshole jumping to the front of the line to beat him up. This show earned every single beat it hit, and it was so lovely to watch a show where every character had goals and challenges. It wasn't just about making sure two guys have sex. This was a story about friendship and community, and it had strong ideas about how we make ourselves suffer for the betterment of others and yet no one is happy. This is one of the best things I've ever seen. Please go watch it.

[lover-of-mine]

https://www.tumblr.com/lover-of-mine/748975070622400512/if-i-take-my-drown-buck-speculations-say-flip-it okey but you cannot leave it at that give me moreee (I’m attached to the down buck but as long as someone drowns I think I’m on board lol)

me: *walks in after weeks to discuss this*

Okay, sooooooo, we are all familiar with my drown Buck 2024 spec that came to me from the voices in my head, BUT the pattern could apply to both of them. I still think that the repetition of people around Buck being late could play into the idea that he will drown, Eddie being too late by definition is part of my justification for this spec. But let's assume Eddie is in mortal danger. With 706/707 info, the idea of both of them getting injured together is kinda out the window for now (since the whole reason I kept saying car crash was the newlyweds from Buck, Actually maybe it's a conflict for freshly together buddie? it's not like they ever known peace lol) considering that Eddie is gonna feel isolated and they seem to be repeating triggers from s4, and the drowning idea for me played off a lot from the idea of repeating the shooting since I think they would need a trigger like that for some feelings realization, you can have Eddie in a similar situation as the well to play off with past trauma the way the shooting does and have Eddie be trapped somewhere that's slowly or not so slowly flooding. I think you could have Buck in there and just have Buck being mad at Eddie but this could work better if they are separated by something and Eddie can't hear Buck because it doesn't matter how pissed Buck might be, he would never leave Eddie behind, BUT if we play off Eddie's brand of abandonment issues and the way those feelings will be fresh in his head with however they are dealing with Shannon and make him think no one is coming that could be interesting. And you can have something that would mash the shooting and the well together for Buck because it seems like the show is moving towards making buddie canon on Buck's side, and to put Buck in that situation again would awake some feelings, there's no way he would lose his shit the way he does when Eddie gets hurt and not be like "oh fuck" so we can have the late thing surrounding people adjacent to Buck mean that Buck is the one who's gonna be too late. Maybe it takes him too long to realize Eddie is missing, maybe he can't break into where Eddie is fast enough, same principle as the version of the specs that we had surrounding the cruise, because I kinda think that the show will parallel that bathena trapped scene somehow, but the thing is, the well is about Eddie saving himself, but the season has a theme of you can't do it alone going on, that would take the save yourself away, especially depending on Eddie's mental state. I still think we spent way too many seasons escaping from season cliffhangers and ABC really likes them so there's no way we are escaping one now, so this could be a cliffhanger, Eddie trapped, thinking no one is coming, playing into last season "we have time" and "we are all gonna die alone" thing he had going that made us think the bridge was gonna be worse than it was, he doesn't have a radio, his phone is dead, I don't know, there's water involved, we can kill electronics real easy, while Buck is going berserker on the other side of the wall trying to get to him but only getting in once Eddie is fully submerged. This could actually be an interesting way to give one or both of them an explicit feelings realization moment, but delaying the conversation because *i hope* it would force them to address their personal and shared trauma before going the romance route. But, yeah, drowning Eddie also works. But this all works with Eddie pinned by something, maybe losing too much blood, hit to the head, I just can't let go of the drowning thing.

[terresdebrume]

Got the idea for this snippet in the limo driver!Joe verse, and I *could,* have left it in the wip folder for later but I thought eh, it's gonna be super short, might as well share it! Turns out it's not that short after but oh well. I'll live xD

Takes place in the same universe & year as Blessings of the Children [Tumblr version]

"I think I'm going to go refill my drink," David announces in the middle of a lull in the conversation. "Anyone wants a top off?"

Janice Roberts, the Hummels and Alan Parrish puts their orders in—two punches, one soda water, one coke—and Joe's elbow is unceremoniously seized and pulled aside.

"You're helping me carry all that."

In normal circumstances, Joe would tell him exactly where he can shove the idea. He'd probably end up going anyway but you know. He'd at least put in a protest out of principle. But then he normal circumstances he wouldn't be caught dead talking to a woman who not only birthed Ruthie's one time bully but also managed to make a pointed remark about the size of his nose and make a pass at him in the same conversation.

So, exceptionally, Joe lets himself be dragged away.

"I'm never covering another fucking dance," he tells David in German as they circle around the crowd of dancing teenagers to reach the buffet. "I don't care if Ruth begs me on her knees, I'm fucking done."

David throws him a skeptical glance over his shoulder, and it would be a hell of a lot less irritating if they didn't both know Joe is being full of shit. Oh, sure, he put up a fight when Ruth asked him to chaperone at her winter formal, but it was mostly for show. Not that Ruth needs to know that, of course. David doesn't need to know that either, for that matter, but he's always had a nasty habit of getting Joe, even when he was a kid, so... There they are.

"I swear to God," Joe continues anyway, lowering his voice when they step up to the table and he spots Ruthie's German teacher in the queue, "if fucking Janice leans on me one more fucking time, I'm gonna murder her."

"She is handsy, isn't she?" David hums as he maneuvers the three solo cups he's carrying onto the table and begins to look for Janice's soda water. "I like Denise though."

He's sticking to German too, quiet enough that Joe almost doesn't hear him. His words make Joe shrug. Sure, Denise Hummel seems fine. Not best friend material, probably, but not someone Joe is actively repelled by at least.

"I ain't talking about Denise," Joe hisses, gathering the coke and soda water cups while David fills the remaining ones with punch, "I'm talking—"

"Talking about Janice, yes, I heard," David says, eyes still on the cups.

He starts shuffling his way back around the room, and Joe plants himself firmly in his trail to avoid the bulk of the jostling.

"Don't act like you like her," he hisses at David's back. "I know your fucking face."

"I prefer to remain polite in social situations," David says, going for prim and landing on snotty.

Joe snorts. German or English, David tends to go formal when he's trying not to let on what he thinks. It doesn't really work, but it's funny to watch. Also, Joe's heard enough stories from David's days of mandatory upper crust socializing to know that line about staying polite is a big fat lie. He's probably just saying that to get a rise out of Joe for trouncing him at Mario Kart again. They run into Ruthie on their way back. She's guffawing about something with her friends Marisol and Isaac, and gives Joe a big smile before scowling at David in the most unsubtle way possible. Joe can't help a scowl of his own at the sight, but David just smiles harder and nods at Ruth and doesn't stop to talk to her.

When they rejoin the group that absorbed them earlier, the conversation has moved from the latest cinematic success to the merits of yoga vs pilates. Joe couldn't give a shit about either of those, but he tries to make some noise. It's mostly for Ruthie's sake. If it was just him, Joe would follow David's lead and keep his fucking mouth shut until he can escape the group.

The conversation goes from sports to self care, and Janice is in the middle of talking about her new haircut when David cuts her off to ask:

"How much did you pay for it?"

He doesn't look annoyed anymore, the stony look gone from his face. Instead, his eyes have widened in this faux-innocent sort of expression he does when he's about to give someone a piece of his mind, and Joe hurries to bury his nose in his cup of punch.

"Oh, not a lot," Janice says with a smug smile. "Only twenty-five dollars, why?"

"Mhm. You got ripped off."

There is absolutely no fucking way anyone mistakes Joe's loud snort for a cough. Not even when he starts choking on his drink and David reaches out to pat his back without a concern in the world. Joe's too busy not dying to look, but he knows exactly the kind of face he'll find there. It's the same face he pulled as a kid when he'd tell adults they were annoying or asking stupid questions. It's the same face he gave his driving instructor when he was eighteen, right before he told him the only reason he agreed to be in a car with him was to get his permit. The same face he'd made, last summer, when his mother asked him if he'd rather spend time with the driver than his own family and David blinked, and stared at her, and said 'yes of course' as cool as a fucking cucumber.

You wouldn't get torture that shit out of Joe, but he loves this face.

"Well," David says just as Joe gets his coughing and laughter somewhat under control, "now that everyone's uncomfortable."

And he must nod, the fucking asshole, right before he grips Joe's shoulder and drags him away from the group and next to the door. Joe follows him with his hands in his pockets, clinging to his poker face for dear fucking life as they come to a stop. Then, because he simply can't resist, he whistles and says:

"Don't hold back Web. Tell them what you really think!"

David rolls his eyes.

"This is me holding back," he mumbles, and Joe can't help huffing a heartfelt:

"Jesus. Now I'm curious to see what it looks like when you don't hold back."

David's expression turns outright smug, and Joe has to hide his answering smirk behind the rim of his solo cup.

[beevean]

What did you think of Olrox from Nocturne?

Personally, I couldn't care much about him. They put so much focus on him that he's more of a main character than the actual protagonists of Nocturne. Not to mention, his romantic subplot with Mizrak came out of nowhere and it's only there for "diversity", but I considered it to be a waste of time that should've been spent on anything else.

On top of that, it seems like the writers are desperately pushing to make him likeable for someone who killed Richter's mom and caused his trauma in the opening episode. If the writers decide to pull an Abby (from The Last of Us) on N!Olrox and give him a redemption arc or make Richter forgive him enough to not kill him in the next season, I'm gonna riot.

I would say they split Isaac into two characters: Olrox got the alleged moral complexity, and Annette got the favoritism :P

Anyway, in a show that has regressed to the level of "vampires are 100% evil bastards with no souls", quite a far cry from the original show's insistence that vampires are actually a noble superior race with a culture and all, Olrox feels like he wants to recapture that sort of "depth", being evil but still principled enough to fall in love and go against Sun Thundercat. In practice, I stopped taking him seriously the moment he let little Richter live, because my good man, wouldn't a more appropriate revenge against Julia be killing the brat and forcing the mother to live through the pain? C'mon game Isaac understood this! Leaving the child alive and allowing him to grow up with a grudge is so fucking stupid, it was mentioned in the Evil Overlord List written in 1990 😭 "All younger siblings, spouses, children, students, and old army buddies of an enemy I have just killed will be hunted down to prevent them from attacking me at some future point in a quest for vengeance."

I'm also betting that the moment they reveal more of Olrox, or force him to take a stand, he'll lose most of his charm. In S1, his allure comes from him being a wild card, other than him being hot: the moment he becomes yet another one of Richter's allies, he'll have very little for himself other than his sexiness. Kind of like a male Lenore, now that I think about it, although her hotness was enough that she still has fans and Olrox has yet to rape be a BDSM king to Mizrak :P

Speaking of which! I actually don't mind the relationship between the two. One, we finally moved past from the cliché of lesbians solely defined by their relationship cutely holding hands like Striga and Morana. The original show was a coward that played it safe, and it had the chance of giving Alucard a boyfriend if he was meant to be bi for reasons other than making his rape scene more palatable, but no, he got yet another sassy girlfriend. By contrast, the chemistry between Olrox and Mizrak is positively smoldering, and they do have the relationship issues you'd expect from two who jumped into bed before even learning each other's names lmao. At this point, if every character is allowed more love and care than Richer, I'd rather spend time with these two disasters than Maria, Annette or Alucard.

Of course, that doesn't make them great, and it's because Olrox tries too hard to be hot and tragic, and the most memorable thing about Mizrak is that he looks like Agent Stone from the Sonic movies hjdfkshdk - oh, and alright it is very funny that a man of the cloth apparently stops being religious the moment a piece of vampire ass sways in front of him.

"it seems like the writers are desperately pushing to make him likeable for someone who killed Richter's mom" the original show wanted you to cry for a vampire lord planning to slaughter all humankind and vampirekind in a long agonizing death because 😭wife died😭, a jihadist who killed people for being rude to him and then defiled his corpses to make himself an army because he was ✨philosophical✨, and an abusive rapist willingly engaging in slavery and aiding continental conquest who got a bit 🥺sad🥺 that her friends were pushing her to the side. Olrox is just keeping the tradition of being an unfairly sympathetic antagonist contrasting a much more shallow one, Carmilla/Sun Thundercat - and while his sin is nothing compared to those other three, the idea that we should blame Julia for killing his vampire bf is just tiring, because 1) in this setting vampires are nothing more than greedy monsters, I don't feel sympathy for one we don't even see in flashbacks; 2) it reminds me too much of Alucard being a cunt to Trevor because the Belmonts kept vampire child skulls in the hold, which was a way to tell us that the Belmonts were "morally grey"; 3) will you stop shitting on the whole Belmont clan for fuck's sake?

Anyway, Olrox is far from being the worst part of the show, but I have no faith in how they're going to develop his character while still keeping up the intrigue.

[blurredblu]

My opinion on IDW being canon to Sonic

I watched a video by GamesCage on the topic, who I've been watching a long while on YT before subscribing to him recently on Twitch, and it reminded me of my own thoughts on the matter as well!

But first some preemptive notes because I am entering Sonic discoursespace:

This is just some guy's opinion about a little blue dude! That's it! If you hate it or me personally because of it, I refer you to this image:

I won't ever go into using insulting or uncivil language. But because this is an opinion essay and I got opinions up the wazoo, I'm also not trying to word things in some neutral, disinterested way to appeal to all audiences here

That being said, game-story-wise, we don't fuck with meta-era shit here. I Do Not See It

I'm all for chats and discussions about the topic, agreement or disagreement alike in response to this essay—things just ought to stay civil and respectful. Think of WWSD (What Would Sonic Do?) and the image above

Sonic's morality and what IDW misunderstands of it

Though I respect what the IDW team does (I fondly remember following Evan Stanley's Ghosts of the Future on Deviantart back in the day), I don't prefer their characterisation of Sonic, and that alone is enough to have me a little chagrined as to IDW's integration into the games' canon. I think it's because, ultimately, it detracts from what makes Sonic's character—specifically his morality—unique and appealing to me. Though he isn't nearly as anti-hero in nature as characters like Shadow, Sonic still has moral tendencies that are atypical for characters that occupy the hero role as he's been avowed to have in the games, e.g. being labelled Team Hero with Tails and Knuckles multiple times

To give some sense of signposting, here are the headings of this essay:

Sonic distinctive moral thinking - The games' simple, reactive Sonic - IDW's merciful, principles-first Sonic: on freedom and oppression - Sonic's self-centred in a way, though, right? The mascot problem - "What's your idea then, genius?" – the reader reading this - Why keep things static - Examples of peak Sonic Conclusion

Sonic's distinctive moral thinking

To contextualise my judgement of Sonic as distinctive in his moral thinking, I think there is a tendency in Western media to give heroic characters very merciful streaks. Think Superman or Batman—codes of never killing or always offering mercy, often with backstory or informed moral reasoning behind it. While these streaks are understandable, they appear often and thus don't ring as special or particularly unique to me. Sonic has always been interesting to me because he explicitly does not entertain such clear moral principles. His attitudes embodied in his SA2 theme "It Doesn't Matter," Sonic Unleashed, or the Storybook Series (Black Knight being my favourite), show that he just does what he thinks is right and shows no qualms using considerable force (lethal in the case of Black Knight) if he has to against those he thinks are doing wrong—even against people who he would be friends with, like Merlina. He does not barter or reason; he takes action, moves before he thinks, and follows his heart

The games' simple, reactive Sonic

From my interpretation of Sonic regarding mercy, examples from the games show how he isn't interested in rehabilitating or looking for threats to neutralise like some Miguel O'Hedgehog. These tendencies become most apparent when his friends are involved. A standout example is when Amy protects E-102 Gamma from Sonic, convincing Sonic that he isn't like the other badniks. Another, more indirect example is Gemerl, where Sonic fights and subdues him from causing more harm but Tails is the one who reprograms and rehabilitates Gemerl, who lives happily with Cream and Vanilla with his more peaceful disposition. Sonic doesn't go out of his way to help Gemerl post-defeat, but he doesn't doubt or attack him further after his integration either

At heart, I find Sonic to be a reactive, not proactive, hero. He won't go out of his way to check if the day needs saving—he's not a dutiful guardian doing patrol like Knuckles or a principled fighter for an organisation like Shadow—but if Sonic sees someone in need, he won't just pass them by. And I find Sonic's moral judgements to be simple, instinctual, and self-centred in the most literal sense. They come from his bias towards his friends' judgement and what he believes to be right, regardless of how others may judge his actions. I've only mentioned some examples, but they highlight to me that Sonic is neither healer nor hunter. His main priority isn't rehabilitating or reasoning with his foes—he will do what he feels he needs to do, even if that means destroying something or someone for good. But, as Amy for E-102 and Tails and Cream for Gemerl show, he won't go out of his way to make sure threats are dealt with through violence if his friends vouch for them.

IDW's merciful, principles-first Sonic: on freedom and oppression

In IDW, the topic of him showing so much mercy and espousing freedom as an ideal he thinks everyone, even his enemies, deserves makes him much more merciful and deliberate in his mercy than I like him to be. I want to discuss this by briefly expanding on oppression and freedom, a topic that comes up in Surge and Sonic's fight and Surge angrily questions why Sonic wouldn't just end her. Sonic essentially answers it's because he values freedom for all, including his enemies', because he can exercise his freedom to stop them. It's representative of why I think some fans take issue with Sonic's characterisation because it warps how much Sonic might believably value freedom versus oppression on two flops: on philosophical concepts and characterisation.

IDW's concept flop, to me, shows a fundamental misunderstanding on the nature of oppression and freedom, assuming some inherent ranking of freedom above oppression. The two are different things: freedom is a kind of instrument, a means of doing things, a concept that has no content in and of itself. In other words, you have the freedom to do X; having freedom is only meaningful insofar as it enables to do what you want. Oppression, however, is not an instrument in the same way; it makes far less sense to say 'you have the oppression to do X' or 'you are oppressed to do X' like you could for 'freedom' and 'free'. Freedom, precisely because it is an instrument, enables far more flexibility—both good, evil, and neutral acts can arise from it. Oppression is a state of being with an inherently negative core, predicated on suffering and the oppressed being harmed.

Quick and messy take from me on this: freedom for all and oppression for some is worse(!) than freedom for some and oppression for none. But here's something that has a source, leading to the characterisation flop: according to Sonic Adventure's DX Director's Cut manual, the only thing Sonic hates is oppression (for, presumably, anyone). Honestly, you don't even need a game manual to tell you that. I think IDW writers make the mistake of assuming the inverse to be true of Sonic as well: that the thing he loves most is freedom (for, presumably, anyone).

Oppression being the only thing Sonic hates does not mean freedom is the only thing Sonic loves.

It may be notoriously slippery to insist on consistency in the Sonic franchise (or maybe franchises, plural), but this philosophical gloss on freedom and oppression starts to explain why IDW's characterisation strikes me as inherently contradictory to Sonic's preexisting values. Namely, it shows how IDW commits a false equivalence between the two and assigns it to Sonic. Sure, Sonic likes freedom, but that's different to showing mercy and second chances. IDW ends up conflating the two. As a result, IDW has Sonic care more about the principle of freedom than about the feelings and suffering he knows he or his loved ones have gone through. Put another way, it makes little to no sense why Sonic would prioritise freedom for all, even his enemies, when he has been shown to much more consistently put the most weight on what his friends feel and what he himself thinks. IDW does little to no detectable work establishing why Sonic would have such priorities either

Also, not a real argument—just taking things to the extreme in a throwaway thought—but could you imagine Sonic in the beginning of Unleashed actually considering Eggman's pleas saying he's changed and telling Eggman he...values his freedom? Like. c'mon

Sonic's self-centred in a way, though, right?

How about that self-centred angle, though? Sonic's way of thinking is highly independent—he will do what he thinks is right, first and foremost. It would be easy to claim that IDW's characterisation is just a mindset Sonic just holds in the comics, and that alone passes muster; his brand of ethical egoism admittedly does a lot as writerly cover to justify nigh anything about him. Looks like a hedgehog, smells like a hedgehog; chances are it's our hedgehog, right?

I disagree. One: if IDW is considered canon and yet is just so different to what's appealing about Sonic in the games, then the decision to make IDW Sonic canon, to be frank, kinda sucks. That ain't my Sonic—that's some Marvelised-DC version of him trying to moralise that I don't find compelling, distinctive, or endearing.

Two: even if you try to adopt the angle that upholding freedom for all would just be what Sonic believes to be right, it would still be the same as saying Sonic cares more about philosophical ideals than what he sees right in front of him. He's famously poked fun at Knuckles for being gullible before—why is Sonic himself showing that same gullibility and benefit of the doubt towards hostile enemies or those who have notably wrought so much damage to the lives of those he loves?

The trouble is that IDW builds no meaningful narrative foundations on top of which to stake this claim on Sonic's mindset when the games exist. Like, I don't even privilege the games just because they've been around first and for longer (even though, hey, that is true)—he's just cooler in them. Sonic is no philosopher; he's repeatedly shown it's genuinely not that deep when it comes to his moral thinking in the games. All it is is that he has a good heart. As a result, it comes off as a considerable mischaracterisation to show his enemies mercy mostly in the name of freedom or hope for their change (i.e. lofty ideals) compared to something actionable he can do (i.e. kick their ass and break their tech so they don't hurt anyone he cares about again).

The mascot problem

GamesCage mentions a worthwhile point which he calls the mascot problem. Sonic, as a mascot for Sega, has certain narrative lines he cannot cross or change for good. Like with Mario, there is a clear status quo to maintain; for one, Eggman cannot ever truly be vanquished. However, unlike Mario (with the one exception of Super Mario Galaxy), Sonic routinely has narratives that he and his friends undergo. There has to be this delicate balance that Sonic Team, IDW, and anyone writing for Sonic must contend with as a result. You have to write stories—events and plot where characters grow and change and are affected—but maintain the status quo where many fundamental things cannot change

In other words: how do you explain that Sonic never gets rid of Eggman or his other enemies because he, as a company mascot, cannot ever do so?

IDW does this one way by assigning Sonic an inadvertent little philosopher's cap, which I've already opined is a mischaracterisation. It also just generates another kind of untenable narrative problem that's even harder to reconcile: how do you justify that Sonic, hero with a heart of gold, just lets his enemies keep on going for freedom's sake? Arguably, all that does is dress up the mascot problem but with worse consequences—it makes Sonic less likable. It casts him as someone who essentially ends up condoning his enemies' actions, which has already led readers to question his judgement and whether they would even want to root for a character like that when you have an alternative and contradicting blueprint that the games have already provided for him. Like, my boy embodies direct action and IDW turns it into direct-ish-but-hey-do-what-you-want-who-am-I-to-judge action. Dress it up however you want; it's a nerf on who he is

"What's your idea then, genius?" – the reader reading this

In my eyes, what could work for the mascot problem is falling back on the static nature of the characters that have already been long established. The basic formula is there: Eggman is tricksy, proactive, and two steps ahead, but Sonic is always good-hearted enough, reactive enough, and fast enough to catch up by the end.

Elaborating on that formula, you have enough of Sonic's existing characteristics to justify why bad things keep happening despite his presence. He's not like Iron Man, who takes it upon himself to leverage his resources and power to look out for the world when no one's really asked him to. Again, Sonic is a reactive hero; he's not a ruthless hunter and he likes his peace and quiet as well as his adventure. He'll do what he can to fight what's right in front of him but may miss the bigger picture or potential traps by going in too fast. That happened in the beginning of Sonic Unleashed and it made sense. Even in Black Knight, you had him try to whale on King Arthur armed with just a decreasing number of chilli dogs. In an extended or episodic storytelling format, this allows other characters to shine—Tails's powers of analysis, Amy's ability to connect with others emotionally, Knuckles' sense of duty—by contributing to plans and helping Sonic because he has persistent, character-defining flaws. Highlighting his non-proactive and chill nature allows for arcs with more breathing room, too, where the characters aren't going up against some world-ending force or they all hang out. On that front, I'd say IDW has done well giving other characters that spotlight

Briefly touching upon Eggman's characterisation and how that might address the mascot problem, his tried-and-true tendencies should be relied upon, too. He is incredibly intelligent but also a massive narcissist—it makes sense that he has his own sense of short-sightedness where he prioritises and secures his own well-being above all else and underestimates the importance or wrath of godly and natural entities he frequently exploits and disrespects. Because of how strong and distinctive Eggman's brand of narcissism and villainy is, it is honestly fitting that he will never change; that alone explains how often he will cause trouble and will never fully succeed. And that also justifies why Sonic will always be the one to fight him. Both have their imperfections and flaws and that has them in a deadlock.

Why keep things static?

Now, this might bring up the question of static-ness. It might seem like an odd solution to mascot problem to just lean into it. Surely, there has to be greater justification or some potential for change for things to stay interesting, appealing, and compelling for Sonic and his stories.

In response, here's my hot take: ya don't need any of that.

Here's a longer version of my hot take: in any given narrative, Sonic is at his best when he does not grow or change. Sonic is already peak. Others may flounder and oscillate, but he remains steadfast with his heart of gold. He is a pillar of strength. He is static. Think of him in the Sonic Adventure games, characters and humans' reactions to him in Sonic X, the knights of the round table's reactions to him in Black Knight, Chip himself remarking that Sonic has such a good heart that not even the powers of a fucking dark primordial god infecting and transforming him can change who he is on the inside in Unleashed. When unstoppable forces come about, lo and behold, he is the immovable object they meet!

Sonic always stays on the move—that's how you can justify all the amazing, different, wild stories he'll go through, because he is an adventurer at heart. You don't need to humanise a character and subject them to point-A-to-point-B arcs to make them enduring, beloved characters. Just because that's a common format for characters and stories and comics to take nowadays doesn't mean that it's a good fit for Sonic. He's never been one to do something just because everyone else is doing it anyway. I, no joke, think Sonic should be treated like a mythical folklore figure, never-changing and transforming the lives of those he meets before breezing on by—and what figures are more enduring in our consciousness than those of mythology?

And, to refer to IDW, there isn't any need to wax philosophical on top of that. Like I've repeatedly said so far, Sonic is no philosopher (and saying this as someone who did philosophy for undergrad, thank fuck for that). Leave the philosophising and podcast soundbites and video essays to the fans—in fact, I'd even wager the simplicity of Sonic's premise and character, or, hell, even the dissatisfaction that can come from that, is why his fandom even thrives (but that's definitely a separate topic).

Examples of peak Sonic

I forget which interview this was, but Sonic's characterisation was inspired off of Bill Clinton (aged like milk I know; this was before his scandal with Lewinsky), from the idea that actions speak louder than words for him. Obviously, Sonic does get in his quips with his friends and enemies alike, but he's not supposed to be Marvel superhero about it and isn't actually a massive braggart. Even the first episode of Sonic X shows his confidence and demeanour so well—he doesn't need to moralise or talk your ear off for you to know he'll fuck you up. And that's just so much cooler than what IDW accomplishes with their version of Sonic

Like, consider my beloved Murder of StH, which the IDW team had a considerable hand in! Sonic—while recognising that the train is more advanced than other badniks, exhibiting personhood and consciousness—still has the sole objective of destroying the train. Everyone shines and, granted, the format has it so that Sonic doesn't really appear till the end, but he's characterised pitch-perfectly there, instilling so much hope and forward momentum not only in his gameplay but in the heart of the player. Honestly, his late contribution arguably echoes Sonic X, where he often disappears or does his own thing, too

Even in a game or storytelling format where he should be front and centre, you could even explore some big themes with Sonic precisely because of his mental and emotional fortitude! The Storybook Series are so stellar in this regard—you got Sonic helping out Shahra, domestic abuse victim, on dealing with sadness, and him helping Merlina with existentialism and death of all the fucking things. And he doesn't flap his lips about it; he shows it through his actions. He's the protagonist but not in a traditional sense—he's the support and passing through and being unfathomably fuckin cool about it. Any lessons he ends up teaching you is not because he's out to teach you—it's because he's just living his own way and, wouldn't you know it, you just happened to be around for the ride

Conclusion

I'm not excited about IDW Sonic being considered canon because he comes off as an overeager philosopher's take on him when game Sonic is fuckin goated with the sauce. Though the story ideas and arcs in IDW seem cool, Sonic is the heart of the series, and if he's off, then the whole thing ends up a little wonky for my tastes.

To be clear, I don't have issues with different iterations of Sonic as some blanket rule—if the writers do the work to establish why and in what ways Sonic in a particular story is different, then that's just plain fun. Movie Sonic, Sonic Prime, and Sonic Boom are all examples of that. But, above all, the kind of Sonic I adore (and there are in fact many kinds) is the one who you meet and your life is irrevocably changed for the better as he hangs out for a while but never for long. In pivotal moments in the comics, IDW Sonic misses the mark on that for me

Though Sonic Team are making clear moves to integrate all the iterations of Sonic as canon regardless. I do wonder if that, as a move in itself, is the meta-narrative equivalent of Sonic Team changing game-mechanic tacks every game after '06 and Unleashed—a well-intentioned but misguided way to try to appease everyone which I've always thought is the most anti-Sonic thing you can do, but that's just the mascot problem in corporate as opposed to story form.

I was fine with Sonic Twitter just saying 'Everything is canon' as a non-starter – I'll just see how they do what they're intending to do and if I don't like it, then I always got an AO3 account handy

[edupunkn00b]

On a Butterfly's Wing, Ch. 7: Three Coffees

Graphical representation of the Lorenz Attractor.

Prev - Three Coffees - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

The next day, Logan Croft wakes up in the Intruloceit universe of Overruled.

Logan opened his eyes to a dream. His bedroom glowed with summer’s dawn bleeding through pale yellow gossamer curtains. Art adorned every free space on the walls, chunky oil abstracts in every color of the rainbow, pensive watercolor studies of autumn trees, fantastical starscapes filled with comets and a scientifically accurate black hole. Still lifes and portraits… there was even one of Patton styled like Frida Khalo.

His body woke slowly, floating, without any pain. No lingering aches, no throbbing behind his eyes, no stiffness in his jaw. Humming, he relished the comfortable warmth of his bed, fluffy flannel sheets, a feather-light thermal blanket.

His heart stopped when he looked down and spotted the soft blonde hair splayed over his bare chest.

Moving slowly, he lifted his left hand. It bore the glint of a gold ring but no scars, not on his palm nor on his wrist.  The room was different from his and Kelly’s tiny first apartment but everything else felt like first year together.

Logan struggled to breath. He couldn’t take this dream again, glorified memories of those halcyon early days in their relationship. Dreams of Kelly’s softness, her passion. Her love. The dreams of the wife he’d lost, of the life he’d been too inept to hold on to. He didn’t know which was worse, waking from a dream filled with ‘I love you’s… Or the dreams when even his imagination couldn’t force those words from her lips.

Wake up.

Hand shaking, he slowly brushed away a lock of hair from dream Kelly’s forehead and revealed soft golden brown eyes looking up at him. The chai-colored eyes of his boss.

“Morning, Lo.” Janus’ voice rumbled in his chest, low and rough. And warm. His lips were curled in a wry, sleepy smile. “How did you sleep, my dear?” he murmured, bowing his head to nuzzle against Logan’s chest. At his continued silence, Janus glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Nervous about today?”

Dream logic failed him and he had no idea what he was meant to be nervous about. “Perhaps,” he nodded, hopeful he'd found the right thing to say.

Janus’ smile softened and he reached up, drawing lithe fingers through Logan’s hair. “You’ve planned everything beautifully. The party will be perfect.” Fuzzy color flashed with the movement and Logan turned his head to see Janus’ tattoo.

"Is that a pride flag?" Logan had asked all those years ago, unable to tear his eyes from the bright rainbow stripes tattooed along the other man’s inner wrist. Janus had looked up at him, pupils shrunk to pinpricks. He’d recovered quickly, papering over a flash of fear with an annoyed scowl. "Yes, it is. Don't worry, though, homosexuality isn't contagious,” he’d spat. Fuck. Logan sputtered, "Th—that is not what I meant—I—I—“ What are you going to say? ‘I thought it looked nice? Would you tell me where you got it?’ He closed his mouth and tried again. "Would it be reasonable for me to assume, then that you are... " "What, ‘gay?’ Do you have a problem with gay men, Croft?" Well done, Logan. He thinks you’re a bigot. What's next, ‘My best friend in college was gay,’ huh? Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, "No, of course not.” Janus stared back at him, eyes bright with anger. Salvage this now. “Your life choices are none of my business. What two consenting adults do in the privacy of their own bedroom is none of my concern." "'None of your concern?'" And you just managed to make it worse. Well done, Logan. Bravo. Janus stood tall, shoulders squared. “My life isn't some legal theory to debate or libertarian principle for you to support and then pat yourself on the back. The way our society treats the LGBTQ community is a matter of literal life and death for us." He was right. Of course he was right. And the pain-laced rage simmering in Janus’ glare told Logan this was far, far more than theoretical to his new friend study partner.  Logan’s throat closed but he pushed away the quaver in his voice and tightened his jaw. This wasn't about him. "I... I apologize. I didn't intend to offend you." Janus pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head as though Logan were a very, very dull student. Logan hung his head. Perhaps he was. "Listen, Croft, you seem like you think you're a decent guy, so here's your one and only free lesson in How Not to Be a Dick 101." Janus scowled at him but leaned in close. The cedar and spice of his cologne filled Logan’s lungs and his eyes glowed even as they nailed Logan to his seat. Fuck, Janus was going to be an amazing lawyer. "Impact matters more than intent." For a moment, Logan feared Janus might next demonstrate impact in a more physical way. But he appeared to decide Logan wasn’t worth it. "Just because you didn't intend to dismiss me like you think I'm just some ***, doesn't mean you—“ Voice tight, he stopped himself and took a slow breath. “Doesn't mean that wasn't your impact."  And Janus was right. Desperate to explain but certain anything else he managed to babble would only harm Janus further, Logan nodded. "I am genuinely sorry to have hurt you," he said, fighting to keep his voice under control. "Perhaps we can schedule a session later today." Logan pocketed Janus' card and fled the classroom before Janus could change his mind about them working together. His colossal failure at a good—or even decent—first impression and Janus’ quick correction of him had made its own impact. That night, Logan had walked the stacks at his security job, greeting the opening librarian with an armful of Baldwin and Wilde and Lorde to check out. It's what had ultimately led him to his internship—again working rather uncomfortably alongside Janus—and to his job at QLaw. His entire career. Janus had changed his life that day. The only sign the real Janus had even remembered their first conversation, though, was the lingering nickname.

“Lo?” Voice soft, Janus called him back to his dream. Logan's gaze refocused and Janus looked up at him, eyes gentle and concerned. Logan had seen him look at his husband like that the night he'd overindulged at a Q-Law party. And another time when the green-haired man had caught a finger in a folding table while helping to set up before a press conference in back 2012.

“Where'd you go, Lo?”

Logan smiled, the warmth in Janus’ gaze melting the icy rock at the pit of his stomach. He’d never dared imagine those eyes might look at him that way. Apparently his subconscious had no such qualms.

“I’m right here, Janus,” he whispered, reaching out to brush back a lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. His hair was so soft, flowing and liquid over Logan’s fingers. It shimmered in the morning light, gold and platinum and…

“Counting the grays?” Janus asked, chest rumbling with a quiet laugh.

Logan shook his head. “Silver,” he countered. “And every strand is beautiful. Just like you.”

“Hmmm…” Eyes closed, Janus leaned into the touch like a cat. “You’re such a sweet talker. You make me not want to get up.”

“Then let’s stay right here,” Logan whispered with the courage of a dream. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Mm, if only,” Janus pouted—pouted!—and leaned in for a kiss. “Re’ll be up in—”

With a bang, the bedroom door swung open, pushed by Janus’ husband backing through. Logan froze, but Janus stretched and sat up with a smile. Logan scrambled to sit up as well, straightening the covers between them them. When he looked up, Remus had turned, bearing a wooden tray of three steaming mugs.

“Damn, you’re awake,” he grinned, holding out the tray. “I thought I was going to have to get creative with how I got you both up this morning.”

“And how would that be different from any other morning when you wake before us?” Janus purred, one eyebrow cocked as he took one of the mugs. The blanket fell away as he moved, revealing he was dressed in nothing but a pair of silky boxers.

And neither was Logan.

Remus was the most dressed of all of them, clad in baggy plaid sleep pants, hung low around his hips. He was shirtless, revealing a large dragon tattoo splashed across his chest and back, one wing dipping over his shoulder, tail curled around his arm down to the wrist. Watching Logan’s gaze, Remus waggled his eyebrows in response and moved the tray closer to him. “Thirsty, Lo Lo?”

Logan accepted a cup with a small nod, cheeks burning at the innuendo.

“I thought I smelled coffee,” he said for lack of anything better to say. His earlier dream-fueled bravado dissolved, he held the mug with shaking hands. “Thank you,” he added and took a sip before he blurted out anything else nonsensical.

The coffee was just the way he liked it, dark-brewed on the right side of bitter, very strong. And hot. He pressed a scalded tongue against the back of his teeth, the pain not quite enough to drag him to consciousness.

As though the dream couldn’t get stranger, Remus passed Logan the third mug and wiggled into the space between him and Janus on the bed. Janus sipped his coffee with a bemused smile, shaking his head at Remus’ triumphant jazz hands when he’d gotten situated, lanky legs tangled together with theirs.

“Thank you, Lo Lo,” he sing-songed, inclining his head as he took a mug from him and finished half of it in one draw. “You know… You two took the day off and we still have a whole hour before Pat’s back from Portland…”

“Muse, while we are deeply flattered by your more than romantic proposition,” Janus began, hiding a smile behind his mug. “I do not believe now is the time for a morning tryst.”

“Jannie! I’m shocked!” Hand pressed to his heart, Remus couldn’t quite conceal a smile behind his look of exaggerated offense. “I was going to say we still had time to decorate more downstairs before our son gets home.”

“It’s the nineteenth,” Logan murmured, glancing at the phone charging on the nightstand before flexing the fingers of his unmarred hand. “Patton’s birthday was last week. It’s at least twenty—”

The other two had fallen silent and he looked up. Janus’ worried eyes had returned and Remus peered at him, head titled like a bird. “Lo Lo?”

“I think perhaps… I need… more coffee,” he said before gulping down the rest of his cup.

When he’d finished, Janus and Remus were still watching him, concern dragging down each of their expressions. “I… I assure you,” he murmured, inclining his head. “I am quite alright.”

After taking his empty cup, Remus reached for him, strong hands more gentle than he would have expected as he maneuvered him between them. With Logan’s head pillowed on his shoulder, he curled one arm across his back. Janus set the other cups down and brought Logan’s hand close to his lips.

"You seem upset," Remus whispered into his hair. “It’s okay to not be alright, Love.”

Janus brushed kisses against his fingers and smiled. “Now where have I heard that before?”

Buoyed by their embrace and by the naked love in their eyes, Logan nodded. “I think perhaps I need just a bit more of this before we start the day,” he finally said, chest warming at their growing smiles. “If that’s… acceptable to you?”

Cupping his cheek, Janus leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “More than acceptable.”

[halfetirosie]

⚡️⛈️🔥I'M HAVING A CONNIPTION🔥⛈️⚡️

(Scales 08 - 10 React-os!)

Maybe if I scream at the screen loud enough, the characters will listen to me!

1) (⊙ᗣ⊙) YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!! 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY DESPICABLE.

YAKUMO IS GOING OUT OF HIS WAY TO SAVE THEM---UNDENIABLY A GOOD/KIND THING, AND THEY'RE SEEING IT RIGHT BEFORE THEIR EYES---AND THEY STILL WANT TO FUCKING MURDER HIM?!?!?!

THESE UNGRATEFUL PRICKS?!?!?!?!

THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH SWEAR WORDS IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE TO EXPRESS MY RAGE!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

THESE BITCHES LITERALLY WANT TO STAB THE PERSON PROTECTING THEM WHILE HIS BACK IS TURNED?!?!?!

@#^$$%^@@?!?!?!!!!!!

*static*

🎶 Do to the author's over-immersion into the story and subsequent excess amount of anger, we are experiencing technical difficulties. Please wait for us to fix the problem. Thank you for your patience. 🎶

🎶🎶🎶

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*static*

These bitches are not "driven by fear," they are driven by their selfishness. It's so fucking unfortunate, because their actions make it seem like the way Kuya reviles humans is completely correct.

Yes, these particular humans are definitely worthy of Kuya's insults and cursing. But they do not represent all humans. Despite that, I know that this situation is just going to reinforce Kuya's group attribution error---he'll see this village as representative of humanity as a whole, and this, reinforce his general hatred of all humans. 🤦‍♀️

2) I am disgusted.

Kuya said the magic word---selfishness. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

These two-faced shitbags are so ungrateful.

First they try to bite the hand that feeds them, but as soon as they get a hint of vulnerability from Umi, they latch onto it to take advantage of him again. AS IF THEY DIDN'T TRY TO KILL A PRESUMED MERFOLK [just like they had already done in the past], LIKE, FEW MINUTES EARLIER.

The manipulation is OFF THE CHARTS.

This is a textbook abusive relationship.

3) Okay, I'm getting the sense that Umi is in a Quincy-esque situation.

Like Quincy, he's protecting the village because of some sort of promise with a now-deceased member of that community. (Yes, I know that in Quincy's case his friend later told him to forget about that promise, but my point still stands.)

Of course, unlike Quincy, Umi was never a part of the community himself, and he doesn't have much affection/ investment in the current community. (I don't think him saving the child in an earlier chapter goes against that idea. After all, it's a basic moral principle to protect kids.)

And look, I get it. Whoever he made a promise to was extremely precious; even more so in the context of a yokai's long life.

HOWEVER, THESE BITCH-ASS VILLAGERS DO NOT HAVE ANY REAL RESPECT FOR MERFOLK---OR FOR NATURE IN GENERAL.

Quincy's old tribe aren't particularly nice to him, but since they respect nature as a whole, they don't try to FUCKING MURDER HIM. They leave him be.

But this village??? THEY ARE SCUM.

JUST RUN, UMI!!! I'm sorry, but your friend is long gone. No amount of love for the deceased should bind you to a community that abuses you.

☠︎☠︎☠︎

4) LISTEN TO THE GRUMPY OLD MAN!!! HE ISN'T EVEN WRONG THIS TIME!!! 😭😭😭

THIS VILLAGE IS NOT WORTH IT!!!

Maybe, if their attitudes had changed from the past, they might be.

But they haven't changed. They are still evil.

5) WAIT A DAMN MINUTE---

So, you're saying that the promise wasn't indefinite?

And Umi doesn't necessarily go out of his way to do extra shit for this village---since the relic is almost out of juice???

THEN WHY ARE WE EVEN STILL TALKING ABOUT THIS?!?!

It's not like the villagers are facing certain death here. THEY CAN JUST FUCKING MOVE TO THE MAINLAND!!!! Sure, they'll probably have a tough time adjusting to a new way of life + finding new was of subsisting, but they'll be fucking FINE!!!

6) See, I agree with Yakumo here. Not all humans are bad, and I'm sure that whoever Umi made a promise to was a great dude.

I know I'm just repeating myself at this point, but the evidence is undeniable; UMI'S HUMAN DOES NOT REPRESENT THE NORM ON THIS ISLAND.

🔥🔥🔥 THIS VILLAGE IS HOT GARBAGE!!!! 🔥🔥🔥

7) Just when I think this story can't get any darker---

Bruh. BRUH. 🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢

Do ya'll realize the implications of this?????

Think about it; the merfolk and the humans were NOT friends in the past. They were strangers, and the human villagers massacred the merfolk and stole their land.

Meaning that this relic was never meant for the humans. A merfolk gave their life to make this relic for the benefit of their fellow merfolk, but the humans stole it.

Meaning that these despicable humans, on top of murdering the merfolk, have been desecrating a merfolk artifact for generations.

8) ---BITCH?!!!!! 🤬😡💢🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

THIS SHITTY LITTLE RAT SECRETLY FOLLOWS THEM, EAVESDROPS, AND IS HAPPY TO HEAR THAT UMI WOULD HAVE TO FUCKING DIE IN ORDER TO SAVE THEIR SHITTY LITTLE ISLAND?!?!?!?!

WHY THE HELL ARE THESE TWATS SO EAGER TO MURDER MERFOLK ALL THE DAMN TIME?!?!?!?!

I DON'T GET IT!!!! HOW CAN A WHOLE GROUP OF PEOPLE HAVE SO LITTLE HUMANITY?!?!?!?!

AND WHY THE FUCK IS UMI STILL JUSTIFYING HIS PROTECTION OVER THEM, EVEN WHEN THE CONDITIONS OF HIS PROMISE ARE BASICALLY ALREADY OVER?!?!?!

💢 (╯🔥 ᗣ 🔥)╯︵ ┻━┻

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

....

I have a REALLY BAD FEELING. I really hope I'm wrong, but I feel like Umi might actually sacrifice himself for these ungrateful, hypocritical, revolting scumbags.

And if he does, well....

Idk man, maybe I'll just have a heart attack and die.

😤😤😤

End of report

[lunion]

There's something that's been hurting me for the longest time that I want to vent about, though it can be lenghty. Also, spoilers for Mother 3.

The mother series have been for the longest time my favorite videogame franchise of all time. However, this last year I realized it was no longer the case. That wouldn't be a problem if iy weren't for the reason behind it: My best friend and the discussion we had.

Context time:

I had a sheltered, but otherwise unpleasant childhood. Bullied at school, difficulties on social circles, depressed mother and absent father getting a divorce, a complicated relationship with organized religion... life for kid-me was unfulfilling, underwhelming and gave me nothing to look forward for the future.

However, one of the things that kept me going was indeed, the Mother series. It stroke the perfect and necessary balance to give me hope. It's not a perfect comfort game where nothing goes wrong because it'd feel cheap like "of course these people are happy. These problems were conveniently removed from game", but neither it was a tragedy fest where every problem is real and we can never get a break from the suffering ever. The Mother series acknowledged a lot of problems like police corruption, parental abuse, loss and so forth, but in a palatable manner that made me believe that we could overcome these things.

Eventually, childhood and adolencence have passed and I found myself breaking away from organized religion to find my own faith. I stumbled here and there, but I was moving forward.

And then comes in my best friend.

He's still one of the most caring people i've ever met, but unfortunately, he has a flaw that can make it hard to deal with sometimes. A poorly repressed, yet never acknowledged contempt for spirituality and religion.

We've had some discussions about it before, but the gist of it is that he would try to say something like "you're free to follow whatever religion you want", but always with the undertone of "but you're fucking stupid AND coping for doing so"

Then comes these last 5 years.

These last god forsaken 5 years of my life were filled to the brim with struggle, solitude and pushing through a pervading feeling of aimlessness as I tell myself my goals are not for naught.

My friend group withered, I moved away back to the hometown I hate, had no one that shared my beliefs with me, I started dealing with family problems so bad I had to go back to therapy and the pandemic did not help.

Practicing one's faith alone during this time was also much harder, especially when I started questioning my own beliefs.

Last year, I visited my friend just to hang out. I don't even remember how we got to the topic of spirituality, but I know we did and he asked me to explain my faith to him again. TL;DR, I share many buddhist principles, believe in past lives and higher planes of existance.

The real challenge was trying to explain it to him in a way he wouldn't dismiss as an hallucination, delirium or otherwise.

I could not.

I left that conversation feeling absolutely stupid of ever believing in any semblance of religion or any faith.

Fast forward for a couple months later and I am playing Mother 3.

I've cleared the mother series about 6 times at this point and every couple of years I'd play them all over again because I always come out differently from the experience, given how I've changed and my different lens let me appreciate the games more and in differnt ways.

This time, something very different happened.

I was at the end of the game, during the Masked Man fight. As any Mother fan can tell, the most emotional point in the series. But here is the thing. Unlike every other time I played the game, when Hinawa appeared in that scene, I was not overcome with emotion, relief or even moved.

Instead, my only thought was "what the fuck is this doing here?"

This scene, which brought me to tears many times before and made me cherish the love shared between these characters and even between people in real life, was now making me cringe and feel disgusted.

At that moment. It felt cheap. It felt like it was 'coping', as thoughts swimmed through my head:

"Talk about wish fulfilment. Kid's so traumatized he's making up in his mind his mother is still alive."

"Why tf can't people accept that hinawa is fucking dead? She and everything she brought is GONE. No amount of wishing will ever change that in any meaningful way."

"This is stupid"

All of these things came to me during what was supposed to be one of the most beautiful scenes I've seen in fiction. One of the moments that gave me the most pain, but also the most strenght.

At that moment, I was also crying, but not because the usual reasons.

I was crying because I saw myself, couldn't recognize myself and I didn't like what I saw.

The next months were rough. A good therapist helped, though.

I learned I can't have everyone, especially those who are set in their own beliefs, to validate mine, even if they are family or best friends.

I know I was sensitive at the time for all the problems that I mentioned ealier in this post.

But I also realized that my diminished affection towards the mother games were not to do with me growing up, but due to a bad memory staining my feelings for the games. A memory that has nothing to do with the games themselves and more to do with how hurt and stupid I felt because of that discussion that I had.

I no longer feel like that, but the feeling of hurt still remains. I want to start healing from it. Putting all this experience in words is the first step.