#also the whole thing turned out way more dramatic than i intended it to??

[eksperimentgaj]

hey, look, I managed to draw something

danger noodle/medusa (with Lando being the biggest danger noodle in the picture)

inspired by Mr. Norris' Vegas helmet

[mythicalmaven]

Revealed Desires - Lando Norris

(This is a sequel to Secret Desires, but could also be read separately)

Here is part two of the requested oneshot! I loved writing it so much, that I needed to write a part two! It accidentally turned out WAY longer than I intended, but I love how it turned out! Hope y'all like it! Please let me know if you did! :)

Masterlist This is part two of this one (reading the previous part is advised for more context lol, but you technically could read it separately) ↳pairing: Lando Norris x f!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 8,9K ↳Summary: In which the story continues after the reader (Max Verstappen's twin sister) had a rather interesting text exchange with & FaceTime call with her best friend Lando Norris after he had drunkenly texted her about his sexual fantasies about her. ↳content warnings: reader is Max Verstappen's twin sister, Lando is her best friend, but also more, friends to lovers, first kiss, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), explicit sexual content, handjob, blowjob, oral sex f!receiving, orgasm denial, p in v, making love, praise kink,

It had been a few hours since that intimate phone call with you, and yet the giddy sensation still coursed through Lando's veins like wildfire. He obviously still felt incredibly embarrassed about drunk texting you the way he did, but it lead to something great. Something he enjoyed so much, he can't put it into words. The knowledge that you felt the same way about him had turned the usually composed British driver into a lovesick puppy, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face. He'd been in love with you for quite some time, but now that his feelings were out in the open, everything felt more intense, more real.

Since that call, Lando had managed to shower, get dressed, and gather his things to hang out with a few of the guys at Charles’ place. But the whole time, he’d been distracted, replaying every moment of your conversation, every breathy word exchanged, over and over in his mind.

By the time he arrived at Charles' house and plopped down onto the couch, the weight of it all—how much his life had changed in a few short hours—settled in. But just as he began to sink into his thoughts, he felt a pair of familiar eyes boring into him.

Max was staring at him, that infuriatingly smug grin stretching across his face. "Good morning, Mr. Casanova," Max teased, the humor in his voice impossible to miss as he watched Lando try to hide within the collar of his hoodie.

"Oh god, please, shut up," Lando groaned, pulling the hood further over his face in a futile attempt to disappear. "I don't even remember half of what I said to you last night."

Charles, who had perched himself on the armrest of the couch, took a casual sip of his coffee. The amusement radiating off him was palpable as he clapped a hand on Lando’s shoulder. "Unfortunately for you, Max remembers all of it."

Max leaned back into the cushions, making a dramatic gagging sound as if to punctuate his point. "I wish I could forget some of the things you said, mate," he chuckled. "But I have to admit, some of it was pretty funny. Adorable, even."

Lando's face flushed a deep crimson, his stomach twisting with embarrassment. "Do I even want to know what I said?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he avoided the eyes of both his friends.

Charles set his coffee cup down on the table, his expression turning thoughtful. "Well," he began, running a hand through his hair, "you started out pretty innocent. You were going on about how head over heels you are for her—though I can’t recall the exact words, it was clear enough."

Lando groaned again, his face burning with shame as he sank further into the couch. "God, Max, I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I never wanted you to find out like this."

Max raised his eyebrows, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "You really think I didn’t already know you were in love with my sister?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You’ve been obvious for a while now, even when you weren’t drunk off your ass."

Lando’s eyes widened in shock, his heart skipping a beat. "A-Are… you s-serious?" he stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Charles rolled his eyes, smirking. "Dude, you stare at her more than you do your own race car," he teased. "And let’s not forget that your entire way of talking to each other is just… well, flirting."

Lando felt his heart rate pick up, a mix of relief and mortification washing over him. "Oh," he muttered, his voice small.

"But if that was the innocent part," Lando began, dreading the answer, "what in god's name were the other things I said?"

Max snorted, leaning forward with a grin. "Well, once you were really wasted, you didn’t even seem to notice I was there anymore," he began, the disgust creeping back into his voice. "You were pretty much ranting to Charles about how hot she is and how you’d kill to see her naked."

Charles burst out laughing, almost spilling his coffee in the process. "Hey! Don’t leave out the best part," he chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "You also said that if you had the chance, you’d fuck her on every single piece of furniture in your house."

Max made a dramatic gagging noise again, waving his hands in front of his face. "Okay, enough, ew," he protested, though the laughter in his voice was unmistakable. "We’re talking about my twin sister here, remember?"

Lando buried his face in his hands, sinking so far into the couch he thought he might disappear entirely. "Fucking hell," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. "I really am a gigantic idiot."

Max’s laughter subsided into a low chuckle as he leaned back into the cushions. "Well, spilling the beans on your feelings was one thing, but I’m curious how you’re going to talk your way out of this with her," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You kept going on about needing to text her about something 'very private.'"

Lando groaned again, this time so deeply it resonated in his chest. "Please don’t remind me," he mumbled, knowing all too well what Max was referring to.

Max grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Lando’s discomfort. "So, after I dragged your sorry ass home, I decided to give her a little heads up," he continued, his voice dripping with teasing humor. "But she told me it was a little too late because, apparently, you had already sent her quite the intense text."

Charles, who had been taking another sip of his coffee, choked on it immediately, coughing violently as he tried to suppress his laughter. "Mon dieu," he managed to gasp out between coughs, his face turning red from the effort. "What the heck did you even text her? Did you send her a nude or something?"

Before Lando could even process the question, Max threw his hands up in the air. "Don’t answer that while I’m in the room! I don’t even want to know!" he exclaimed, half laughing, half horrified. "We’re talking about my twin sister here! I need more coffee."

With that, Max got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Lando and Charles alone in the living room.

Charles eyed Lando with a raised eyebrow, the teasing smirk never leaving his face. "Now, do tell," he urged, clearly eager to hear the juicy details.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "God, I don’t even want to think about it," he muttered, his voice filled with both regret and reluctant amusement. "I cringe at myself every time I read it back."

Charles chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you at least talk to her about it?" he asked, his tone becoming more serious. "I mean, considering you’re not sulking in a corner, I assume she doesn’t hate you now, right?"

Lando felt the heat rise to his cheeks again, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ehm… yeah, we talked about it," he admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to downplay the situation.

Charles’ eyes widened in surprise, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, you guys did not…" he started, his voice dripping with playful accusation.

Lando hesitated, biting his lip. "Maybe," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charles burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the back with a hearty smack. "So, let me get this straight," he began, still chuckling. "You got wasted, accidentally sexted your best friend, and she… liked it? And then you pretty much continued the conversation? Do you even remember a thing of it, or is your text history your only proof?"

Lando’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he avoided Charles’ gaze, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Ehm… it might’ve happened this morning through text… then later through FaceTime," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Charles let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Nice job, mate," he said, his tone filled with both amusement and genuine admiration. "Better not tell Max that you had literal phone sex with his twin sister."

Before Lando could respond, they heard Max’s voice echoing from the kitchen. "God, I really did not want to hear that," Max groaned, his tone laced with exasperation.

Charles laughed again, turning his attention back to Lando. "Well, now that you’ve crossed that line, what’s the next step?" he asked, his tone more serious now. "Are you going to talk to her about where this is going?"

Lando let out a long sigh, leaning back into the couch as he tried to collect his thoughts. "I mean… yeah, I guess I have to," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I can’t just pretend like nothing happened."

Charles nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "You’re right," he agreed. "But, honestly, it sounds like you two are already on the same page. You just need to have an actual conversation about it."

Lando nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling in his chest. "Yeah… I know, we talked about if for a little.." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I admitted my feelings to her. We did kind of agree to starting something real once she's back in Monaco"

Charles gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his smile softening. "That's good"

"Yeah, I actually have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow" he told Charles, a hint of something else in his voice "I would lie if I said I wasn't nervous about it. Just scared that she might come to the conclusion that she regrets it, once she sees me in real life again"

*The following day*

Lando sat in his car at the airport, his nerves doubling with each passing second. His fingers fumbled restlessly in his lap as he tried—and failed—to calm himself down. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind racing with thoughts of how he should greet you when you finally arrived. Despite offering numerous times to meet you at the gate, to carry your suitcases like a gentleman, you had refused each one with a teasing smile, insisting that you were "a big girl" and could manage on your own. Now, he wondered if he had been too pushy, if maybe he should have backed off and given you more space.

As he waited, Lando’s mind continued to wage a war against itself. Should he just hug you like he always did, keeping things light and familiar? Or should he throw caution to the wind and kiss you, putting everything on the line? The thought of kissing you, of finally feeling your lips on his after all these years of longing, made his heart race. But what if you didn’t want that? What if you pulled away, leaving him to wallow in his embarrassment?

His internal debate was abruptly cut short by the sound of a knock on his window. Lando looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he met your eyes. There you were, standing just outside his car, a soft smile on your lips. That smile—the one that always made his chest tighten—sent a wave of warmth through him. He quickly opened the door, jumping out to help you with your luggage.

"Hi," you murmured softly, echoing the way you had greeted him during your FaceTime call. The familiarity of your voice, that gentle tone, sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando smiled back, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against yours as you both reached for the handle of your suitcase. The slight contact sent a jolt of electricity up his arm, and he had to resist the urge to pull you into his arms right then and there. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breathing, but the proximity, the way you looked at him, made it impossible to think straight.

"Fuck this," he muttered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. In a swift movement, he reached up, sliding his fingers around the back of your neck, his thumb gently brushing against your jaw. The world seemed to slow down as he tilted your face up toward his, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally closed the distance between you.

When his lips met yours, it was like every pent-up emotion, every moment of longing, exploded into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a confession, a release, an answer to all the questions that had been swirling in his mind. His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let himself get lost in the sensation of finally, finally, kissing the one girl he had been in love with for what felt like forever.

Your response was immediate and overwhelming. You released the suitcase from your grip, one of your hands moved up to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer, while the other slid down to cover his hand, guiding it to your waist. The heat of your body against his was intoxicating, and Lando felt like he was drowning in you, in the softness of your lips, in the way you seemed to melt into him.

As your kiss deepened, Lando could feel your breath hitch, your body pressing even closer to his as if you couldn’t get enough. He took the invitation, gently parting your lips with his, and when your tongues met, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him as he backed you up against the side of the car. The cool metal of the car against your back contrasted with the heat between you, making you gasp softly into the kiss.

Every touch, every brush of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent shivers down Lando’s spine. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, could hear the soft, breathy sounds you made as the kiss grew more urgent. His hands roamed your back, sliding up to cup your face, then back down to your waist, as if trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, completely lost in each other.

You responded with equal fervor, your hands exploring the expanse of his back, his shoulders, as you gave in to the overwhelming pull of desire that had been building between you for so long. The way Lando kissed you—desperate yet tender, with a mix of hunger and reverence—made your heart swell with emotion. It was as if he was pouring all his love, all his need, into that kiss, and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts. Lando’s fingers played with a stray strand of your hair, his touch feather-light as he whispered, "Sorry if that was too straightforward. I just… I couldn’t help myself."

You giggled softly, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "Lan, we both know we crossed the 'too straightforward' line already when you sent me that one text," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Lando’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze dropping to the ground as he muttered, "Shut up."

But you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. Smiling, you tilted his chin up with your finger, forcing him to meet your gaze before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "Hey, I never said I was complaining" you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with affection.

Lando felt a surge of relief wash over him, his lips curling into a smile against yours. All the tension, all the nerves, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by a warmth that spread through his entire being. As you pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours, finding only the same affection and desire that he felt reflected back at him.

"Now, let's get this stuff in the car and head back to my place. Because I think we both waited long enough now, don't you think?" you teased him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

As Lando and you finally settled into the car, the engine's quiet hum filled the space, a stark contrast to the roaring thoughts and desires that swirled between you. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every glance more charged. The drive back to your place had never felt so excruciatingly long, and the unspoken understanding between you made the tension all the more palpable.

You both tried to keep the conversation light, casual even, but it was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of desire that crackled between you like static electricity. Lando gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his knuckles turning white as he navigated through the city streets. He stole glances at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, his mind racing with thoughts of what would happen once you finally reached your apartment.

“So, did you miss me?” you teased, your voice playful yet laced with something deeper.

Lando chuckled, his voice strained as he responded. “Miss you?” He shot you a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, something like that.”

Your hand slowly inched its way over to his thigh, resting lightly at first, but enough to make him shift in his seat. You could feel the muscle tense beneath your fingers, his reaction immediate and telling. You didn’t miss the way his breath hitched, or the subtle clenching of his jaw as he tried to maintain his focus on the road.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and warning, though you could hear the underlying strain, the barely restrained desire.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, your fingers beginning to trace small, teasing circles on his thigh, gradually moving closer to where you knew he was most sensitive. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking?” Lando’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried—and failed—to ignore the effect your touch was having on him. “About what, exactly?”

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, “About how long this drive is taking. Don’t you think it’s… too long?”

Lando let out a low, frustrated groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You giggled softly, the sound filled with a mix of mischief and satisfaction. Your hand moved higher, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his pants, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. He glanced over at you, his eyes darkening with lust, and you could see the tension in his expression, the way he was barely holding himself together.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, your voice dripping with mock innocence, though the wicked glint in your eyes betrayed your intentions.

“Fuck…” Lando cursed under his breath, his hips involuntarily jerking forward at the contact. “You’re going to make me crash this car if you keep that up.”

But despite his words, he didn’t make any move to stop you. Instead, he shifted slightly in his seat, almost as if inviting you to continue. The knowledge that you had this kind of power over him, that you could unravel him with just a few touches, sent a thrill through you, your own arousal growing with each passing second.

As your hand pressed more firmly against him, Lando couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his lips, low and guttural, filled with the kind of raw need that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. The sound of it, the way his body responded so helplessly to your touch, only fueled your desire, your own breath becoming shallow as you leaned in closer.

“I think you like this,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke, your hand slowly, deliberately, palming him through his jeans. You could feel him hardening beneath your touch, and the thought of what was to come made your own body ache with need.

“Fuck, you’re right,” Lando admitted, his voice rough and strained. He let out another soft moan, his hips shifting again, seeking more of your touch despite his earlier protests. “But you’re also going to regret teasing me like this.”

“Is that a threat?” you teased, your hand now fully exploring the outline of his erection, your fingers pressing just hard enough to drive him crazy, but not enough to satisfy.

“Consider it a promise,” Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, every second feeling like an eternity as you continued to push him closer to the edge.

The rest of the drive was a torturous mix of heated touches and ragged breaths, the air thick with anticipation. Every kilometer that separated you from your apartment seemed to stretch on forever, amplifying the tension that crackled between you. Lando’s eyes flicked from the road to your hand on his bulge, watching as your fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration. His breathing was uneven, the struggle to keep his focus on driving becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.

You noticed how his grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white, the strain evident in every line of his body. His jaw was clenched, his gaze forward, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, how his breath hitched every time your fingers palmed over the bulge straining against his jeans.

“You’re awfully quiet, Lando,” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers tracing the outline of his erection with maddening slowness. “Cat got your tongue?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his voice strained as he responded. “Trying to focus on not crashing the car, love,” he muttered, his words laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal. His eyes briefly met yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “But you’re making that damn near impossible.”

You smiled, pleased with the effect you were having on him. Leaning in closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “What would you do to me if we weren’t in this car right now?”

Lando’s breath hitched again, a soft groan escaping his lips as your words sent a surge of heat through him. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with images of all the things he wanted to do to you. “You really want to know?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that made your pulse quicken.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your hand pressing more firmly against his erection, eliciting another groan from him. “Tell me, Lando. What would you do if you had me all to yourself right now?”

Lando’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his grip on the wheel tightening as he tried to maintain control. “I’d start by pinning you against the wall,” he began, his voice thick with desire. “I’d kiss you until you were breathless, until you couldn’t think straight. And then I’d strip you down, piece by piece, until there was nothing between us.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your body reacting instantly to the vivid images he painted with his voice. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the ache of wanting him becoming almost unbearable. “And then?” you prompted, your voice breathy, urging him to continue.

Lando swallowed hard, his hips shifting slightly under your touch. “Then I’d lay you down, spread you out for me,” he continued, his voice growing darker, more intense. “I’d take my time, kiss every inch of you, taste you until you’re begging for more.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips at his words, the need inside you flaring hotter with every second. “Fuck, Lando,” you breathed, your hand moving up to cup him more fully, feeling the hardness beneath your fingers. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“You think you’re the only one?” Lando shot back, his voice rough with arousal. He let out another low groan as you began to palm him through his jeans, his hips lifting slightly into your touch, seeking more. “Keep that up and we won’t even make it to your apartment.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the way you were affecting him. “Maybe that’s the idea,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Maybe I want to see how much you can take.”

Lando let out a soft, desperate moan, his control slipping further with every touch, every word. “You’re fucking evil, you know that?” he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest as he gave in to the pleasure, his body reacting instinctively to your teasing. “But god, I love it.”

The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the promise of what was to come. Every brush of your fingers, every shift of your body sent waves of desire crashing over both of you, making it almost impossible to think clearly.

As you continued to tease him, your own body was alight with need, every fiber of your being aching for him. The sight of Lando struggling to keep his composure, the way he was completely at your mercy, only fueled your desire, your own breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as you pressed your lips to his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath your touch.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lando pulled up to your apartment building, the car coming to a sudden, jerky stop as he practically slammed on the brakes. He turned to you, his eyes dark and filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Get out of the car,” he commanded, his voice rough and strained, leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t need to be told twice. The moment you stepped out, Lando was there, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you back against the car, his lips crashing onto yours with a desperate, almost frantic intensity. The kiss was hot, urgent, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been building between you for so long. His hands roamed your body, sliding down to your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the full extent of his arousal.

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Lando murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you moan softly.

“Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want to feel everything.”

Lando groaned at your words, his control slipping further as he kissed his way down your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt, exploring the soft skin of your back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, making you gasp.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Without another word, he grabbed your hand, practically dragging you toward the entrance of the building. The anticipation was palpable, every step closer to your apartment only adding to the tension between you.

The elevator ride up was a blur of heated touches and frantic kisses, Lando’s lips never leaving your skin as he pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your neck, his voice rough and filled with raw need.

“Me too,” you breathed, your voice trembling with desire as your hands explored the planes of his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando.”

His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the taste of you. The kiss was deep, consuming, and you could feel every ounce of his passion, his longing, in the way his tongue danced with yours, the way his hands gripped you as if he was afraid you might slip away.

When the elevator finally dinged at your floor, Lando wasted no time, pulling you out and down the hall toward your apartment. His impatience was evident in the way he fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and lust coursing through his veins.

“You’re driving me insane,” he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and arousal as he finally managed to unlock the door. The moment it swung open, he had you inside, slamming it shut behind him as he pressed you up against it, his lips crashing onto yours once again.

The kiss was even more intense this time, fueled by the knowledge that there were no more interruptions, no more delays. This was it. You were finally alone, and nothing was going to stop what came next.

His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, up your back, down to your thighs, as if he couldn’t decide where to touch you first. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the anticipation becoming almost unbearable.

Lando’s lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I’m going to make you pay for teasing me like that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice a low, seductive growl that made your heart race.

“I’m counting on it,” you replied breathlessly, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you pulled him even closer, your body aching with need.

And with that, any remaining restraint between you shattered, the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiling over as Lando’s hands and lips claimed every inch of you, leaving you both lost in the heat of the moment, eager to make up for all the time you had spent longing for each other.

When his lips left yours again, you barely had time to catch your breath before they were on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. His hands continued their slow exploration, moving higher until they reached the curve of your breasts, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

A soft moan escaped your lips at the contact, your back arching slightly as you pressed into his touch. Lando’s breath was hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, his hands moving to unhook your bra with practiced ease. The garment fell away, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

“You have no idea how much I want this,” Lando murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with a mix of reverence and desire. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as he captured your lips in another searing kiss.

“Then stop teasing,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want you, Lando.”

Lando groaned softly at your words, his resolve crumbling as his hands began to roam lower, sliding down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans. He unbuttoned them slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he tugged the fabric down your hips, leaving you in just your panties.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of you standing before him, half-naked and completely vulnerable. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as his hands traced the curve of your hips, his thumbs brushing against the delicate lace of your panties.

Without another word, Lando’s hands moved to your thighs, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths along your skin, causing shivers to run down your spine. He stood in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs with agonizing slowness.

The cool air against your exposed skin only heightened your sensitivity, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Lando’s hands moved back up your thighs, his touch firm yet gentle as he spread your legs wider. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to an exposed bit of skin, just behind your ear, before his fingers began their slow, torturous journey closer to your core.

Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need as his fingers hovered just above where you wanted them most. He teased you, his fingertips brushing lightly against your sensitive skin, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips. The tension in your body grew unbearable as Lando finally let his fingers slide through your wetness, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

He began to move his fingers with expert precision, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, each moan, each gasp fueling his desire. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as his fingers delved deeper, the sensation building with every stroke. You could feel the pressure mounting, your body arching into his touch as you teetered on the edge of release.

But just as you were about to fall over the precipice, Lando’s movements slowed, his fingers pulling back, leaving you hanging in that unbearable space between pleasure and release. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips as you looked up at him, your body aching with the need for more.

But Lando only smirked up at you, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. “That’s for teasing me in the car,” he teased, his voice low and filled with satisfaction as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“You’re an asshole,” you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. You pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before your hands moved to the waistband of his jeans.

But before you could undo the button, Lando’s hands were on you again, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the kitchen counter. He placed you on the cool surface, his hands sliding up your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs.

His lips were on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his breathing heavy as he knelt down between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open before him.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him, his gaze locked on yours as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot. The first stroke of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your hands flying to his hair as you arched into him, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Lando’s tongue moved with precision, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every second. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, your body trembling with the need for release as he continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, just when you were about to tip over the edge, once again, Lando pulled back, leaving you gasping for breath, your body aching with the need for more.

“Lando!” you cried out, your voice filled with frustration as you looked down at him, your chest heaving with the effort to catch your breath.

Lando only chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I told you I would make you regret teasing me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with satisfaction as he nipped at your lower lip.

“You're lucky you're hot” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them with your fingers. You pushed the fabric down his hips, letting it fall to the floor as you slid off the counter, your hands moving to his hips, guiding him against the kitchen counter, sinking to your knees.

Lando’s breath hitched as you knelt before him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers as you looked up at him, a wicked glint in your eyes. “Is this what you want?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as your fingers brushed against his erection, the contact sending a shiver of pleasure through him.

“Please,” Lando groaned, his hands clutching at the counter behind him as he watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and lust. “Don’t tease me.”

But you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted to make him feel the same frustration, the same desperation that he had made you feel. Slowly, deliberately, you began to kiss your way up his thigh, your lips brushing against his skin in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

"You look so good, Lan. You make me so wet.” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with a mix of challenge and desire as your fingers teased him, brushing against his erection but never quite touching him where he needed it most.

Lando’s hips jerked forward, a soft moan escaping his lips as he clutched at the counter, his control slipping further with every touch, every kiss. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. “You’re killing me.”

You smiled up at him, your hands finally sliding up to his boxers, pulling them down to free his aching length. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sent a thrill of anticipation through you, your own arousal heightening as you took him in your hand, feeling the warmth and hardness of him against your palm.

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him slowly, your movements deliberate and teasing. Your thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, gathering the bead of moisture there before sliding back down his length. His hips bucked slightly into your hand, a low groan escaping his lips as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust.

“F-Fuck, that feels so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with need. His hands gripped the counter behind him, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. But you could see the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to every touch, every twist of your wrist.

You increased the pace slightly, your strokes becoming firmer, more purposeful as you worked him with your hand. Lando’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to keep his composure. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice sultry, dripping with seduction as you watched him with hooded eyes.

“God, yes,” Lando groaned, his head falling back as another moan slipped from his lips. “So fucking good.”

You smirked, your confidence growing with every sound of pleasure that escaped him. You changed your technique, your grip tightening slightly as you twisted your wrist at the top, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive underside of his tip in a way that made his hips jerk forward, his breath catching in his throat.

“Is this what you’ve been fantasizing about?” you asked, your voice low and teasing as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin. “Thinking about me, touching you like this?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to find the words. “Yes,” he managed to choke out, his voice strained with the effort to hold back. “Every night. Fuck, you have no idea.”

You smiled, satisfied with his response as you continued to stroke him, your movements becoming a little faster, a little more intense. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, his body trembling with the need for release. “Do you want more, Lando?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the base of his length as you spoke, sending a shiver through him. “Do you want my mouth on you?”

Lando’s eyes flew open, the raw need in them making your own arousal spike. “Please,” he groaned, his voice a desperate plea. “I need it. I need you.”

His words sent a jolt of excitement through you, and without breaking eye contact, you slowly lowered your head, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The sensation of his hard length filling you, the taste of him on your tongue, was intoxicating, and you let out a soft moan as you began to move, your mouth working him with the same deliberate, teasing pace you had used with your hand.

Lando’s reaction was immediate, his hands flying to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to maintain control. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

Encouraged by his praise, you began to move faster, your tongue swirling around him, flicking against the sensitive underside as you bobbed your head, taking him in as deep as you could. You could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his muscles tightened and quivered under your touch, his body responding to every flick of your tongue, every suction of your lips.

You placed your hands on the back of his thighs, your fingers digging into his flesh as you pulled him closer, encouraging him to let go, to give in to the pleasure. “Is this what you wanted?” you asked, pulling back just enough to speak, your voice breathy and filled with desire. “Is this what you’ve been dreaming about?”

“Yes,” Lando groaned, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

His words only spurred you on, and you resumed your pace, your mouth working him with more intensity, more urgency as you brought him closer to the edge. His breathing grew ragged, his moans becoming more frequent, more desperate as he hovered on the brink of release.

But just as you felt him start to tense, his body trembling with the need for release, you pulled back, letting him slip from your mouth with a teasing smile. Lando let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back as his hands tightened in your hair, the sensation of being so close yet denied driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck,” Lando breathed out, his voice laced with desperation. His eyes were half-lidded, darkened with lust as he looked down at you, still kneeling before him, that wicked glint in your eyes. “Why did you stop?”

“Two can play that game,” you whispered, your voice filled with playful challenge as you looked up at him, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his thigh. “How does it feel, Lando? To be so close and yet so far?”

Lando’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and raw need. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice rough with desperation, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that he was enjoying this, even if it was driving him crazy.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his hands moving to your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, heated kiss. “Fucking hell, you have no idea what you do to me” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against the counter.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the heat in his voice, the raw intensity of his words sending a surge of desire straight to your core. Lando’s lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly so he could press you even closer against the counter, his body flush against yours. You responded eagerly, your hands threading through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, your tongue teasingly flicking against his.

You could feel the tension building between you, the need to be even closer, but you couldn’t resist playing with him just a little more. You nipped at his lower lip, pulling back slightly to murmur against his mouth, “You’re holding back, Lando. What’s wrong? Afraid you can’t handle a little teasing?”

Your words drew a low, frustrated growl from him, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you, the playful spark in your gaze only spurring him on. “Oh, I can handle it,” he replied, his voice a rough whisper, full of promise. And with that, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands grabbing you by the waist as he lifted you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Your laughter echoed through the kitchen as Lando carried you towards the bedroom, his grip on you firm, yet gentle, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The intensity in his eyes sent a thrill through you, your heart racing as you felt the cool air on your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, and before you knew it, you were on the bed, Lando hovering above you, his hands framing your face as he stared down at you with a mixture of love and raw need. The look in his eyes made your breath catch, the reality of the moment crashing over you. This was real. This was happening.

Lando’s lips found yours again, the kiss slower this time, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides, over your hips, before coming to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them.

But just as Lando was about to move lower, his lips brushing against the curve of your breast, he paused, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, but carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart swell.

“I’m sure, Lando,” you whispered, your voice filled with certainty and affection. “I want this. I want you.”

Lando’s eyes searched yours for a moment longer, as if making absolutely certain, before he spoke again, his tone gentle but serious. “I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured into anything. This… this means a lot to me. It’s more than just sex for me.”

Your heart melted at his words, the care and concern in his voice making you fall even more for him. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin as you smiled up at him. “I don’t feel pressured at all. I want this just as much as you do, Lando. It means a lot to me too.”

Relief washed over his features, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips, filled with all the emotion he couldn’t quite put into words. “Thank you,” he whispered against your lips, his hands gently caressing your sides as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing warmly against yours.

With that final confirmation, the last of his restraint melted away. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as Lando’s hands roamed your body with a newfound purpose, exploring every inch of you with reverence and need. His lips moved down your neck, to your chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver with anticipation.

You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the evidence of his desire only fueling your own. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to your touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable now, the need for him becoming overwhelming as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you moan softly.

“Please, Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation as you arched into him, your body aching with the need for release. “I need you.”

Lando let out a low groan at your words, his hands sliding down to your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as he whispered, “I want to make this perfect for you.”

“It already is,” you whispered back, your voice filled with affection as you cupped his face, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just make love to me, Lando.”

With a soft, almost reverent sigh, Lando pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly, gently, entered you. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and emotion that made you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he filled you completely.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his body trembling slightly as he stilled for a moment, letting you both adjust to the new, intimate connection. The feeling of him inside you, of being so close, so connected, was almost too much to bear, the intensity of it sending waves of pleasure and emotion crashing over you.

He began to move slowly, his thrusts gentle and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he made love to you with a tenderness that took your breath away. Every movement, every touch was filled with love, with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with affection for him.

You could feel the tension building again, the pleasure mounting with every thrust, every brush of his skin against yours. Lando’s hands roamed your body, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck, your collarbone, as he whispered sweet, breathless praises in your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with love and desire. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Lando,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion as you clutched at him, your body moving in sync with his. “I love you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, the raw truth of your feelings finally breaking free. Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, his movements slowing for a moment as he stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and affection as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. The words hung in the air between you, a promise, a declaration that made your heart swell with happiness.

With those words still echoing in the air, Lando’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter in your belly as you held onto him, your body trembling with the need for release.

Lando’s breath was hot against your ear, his voice rough and filled with desperation as he whispered, “Come for me, love. I want to feel you.”

His words, the way he moved inside you with such passion and tenderness, was enough to send you over the edge. Your body tensed, your back arching off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your breathless moans filling the room as you came undone in his arms.

The sensation of you tightening around him, the way you cried out his name in pure ecstasy, was enough to push Lando over the edge with you. With a few more deep, urgent thrusts, he followed you into bliss, his body trembling as he found his release, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing of two people who had just found something they had both been longing for. Lando collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You held him close, your fingers running through his hair as you both came down from the high, your bodies still entwined, the connection between you stronger than ever.

“I love you,” Lando whispered again, his voice soft and filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“I love you too,” you murmured back, your heart swelling with happiness as you held him close, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the warmth of his body against yours, the contentment that filled you both as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of the most intense, passionate, and loving moment you had ever shared.

Masterlist | Promptlist (requests are still open)

[quitealotofsodapop]

So how does courtnapping work??

"Courtnapping"; a mix of "courting" + "kidnap", is basically the demonic version of a proposal.

When demons were still scattered clans/prides across the mortal realm, it was very difficult for clans to interact without a lot of violence involved. Either because of competition for food, or because someone mistoke a glamoured demon for a mortal animal and starting biting.

What's a prospective lover to do if their beloved's family won't let them near without a fight? Easy; steal their lover away so that they can court them (among other things) in private.

As society grew; "courtnapping" became part of the demonic consciousness as a legitimate dating strategy. It was a loud way of announcing your intentions to the intended's family that you wanted them as a mate, whilst also showing off some muscle/magic.

However, demons are not animals. And if the kidnapped party rejects their captor's affections, it is considered polite to let them go. Only *uncouth* demons dare to lock their beloved away without contact with their family. And only truly vile ones (like Kui Mulang or Sai Tai Sui) keep them as forced spouses.

It's downright expected that a demon whisks away their future spouse - after all, who doesn't want to be swept off their feet?

Among wealthier Underworld clans who've adopted celestial/mortal practices, courtnapping isn't as common. Imperial China-style arranged marriages were the norm for the longest time up until a certain Bull Prince fell in love with an Iron Fan warrior, changing the desire among noble demons towards love matches. Courtnapping is considered a legitimate way of declaring "I object!" to an arranged marriage by giving the bride/groom a second option and a moment to rethink the arrangement.

Some wedding parties even hold a mock courtnappings between the new couple so that they can run off from the festivities and enjoy their honeymoon. Think how Spartan weddings involved the groom "kidnapping" the bride from their own ceremony.

Also because of some hilarious idea sharing with @soniclozdplove, we agree; People were kidnapped by demons so frequently in the Imperial era, not because of demon's eating them - but because of *marriage fraud*.

Think of it like this:

China is under strict Confucian and filial piety ideals. If your parent wants you to marry a specific person, you have pretty much no say in the matter.

Unless.

You just so happen to be kidnapped by a demon who wants to keep you as their legally binding spouse.

Human: "Oh no~ I'm captured by an hunky demon who wants to marry me! Guess I'm going to have to stay here and miss out on my arranged marriage." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Demon: "And we can no-fault divorce at any time!" Human's Family: "We'll just take them back!" Lawyer: "Actually you can't. It's a legally binding marriage. Unless the captive expresses their rejection or wants to leave; it's legitimate." Human's Family: "Crap. Well, we'll just hire a mercenary or warrior to reverse-kidnap them back!" (*Later...*) Mercenary: "Avast foul demon! I have been sent to reclaim your stolen bride/groom!" Demon, turns to "captive": "Yay or nay, hun?" Human, looks at mercenary: "Ew. Nay. He's older than my dad." Demon, turning on dramatics: "LEAVE THIS PLACE YOU SOLIDER OF FORTUNE! ONLY ONES WITH PURE HEARTS SHALL TAKE THEM BACK!"

Heres a PortSherry comic I feel is very appropriate.

In more serious scenarios, a courtnapping can be faked to safety remove a person in an abusive home. Abusers can't control you if you're behind a giant lumbering demon with a prenup.

DBK got into this in the Tang-era when he and Princess Jade Face were "married". He was just helping her claim her inheritance, since her dad's will would only pay out if she was married (the Underworld Earth-Fox Clan are the "mimicking human/celestial"-trends types). PIF knew of this arrangement, but was still jealous af and nearly blew the whole of Thunder Mountain in her rage (it was how they learned she was pregnant with Red Son).

Zhu Bajie is an odd duck in this case; since he married Gao Cuilan the normal human way, but his instincts told him to steal her away when her family suddenly became hostile towards him. Cuilan didn't really object because she truly loved him, but was upset that contact between her and her family was cut. Even after the couple are legally divorced; Bajie still considers Cuilan his wife - because in a demonic sense, she's still his willing mate. Lots of stories written about the Pilgrims post-Journey have Bajie go back to her so that they can (in human sense) remarry.

Courtnapping still occurs in the modern day; just with a lot of pre-arranged consent involved. Racing, mock-battles, and the spat with between the lovers' parents - demons do love the thrill of the chase after all. But unplanned kidnappings of desired spouses do still happen.

In Red Son and MK's case; they've accidentally been courting each other for a long time. Mostly because they're dorks who don't realise what their rivalry looks like from the outside - especially during the Season 1 era.

Red Son, showing off his plans: "Here is my current brilliant idea for reclaiming our power! Step 1; We engage Noodle Boy and his friends in battle. Step 2: While you two are occupying Dragon Girl and his fathers, I capture Noodle Boy. Step 3: I keep him hidden in my old base in Fire Wind Cave. Step 4: I have full access to the Staff and all of Noodle Boy's magical abilities! It's foolproof!" DBK & PIF: (*share knowing smiles*) PIF: "Dear, I'm glad that you've finally developed an interest in romantic matters - but our current goals do not align with planning a marriage just yet." Red Son, confused: "Huh?" DBK: "And while it would be advantageous if you married Sun Wukong's heir, I feel that tensions between our families are too high to consider even a superficial union." PIF: "It's really sweet that you considered it though." Red Son: (*turns back to planning board, realises that his plan to capture MK resembles a traditional courtnapping*) Red Son, nearly magenta from embarrassment as he tears up the plan: "Err... never mind then."

In season 3 when Red Son saved Mei, Sandy, and MK from the dessert; DBK & PIF weren't mad that they had enemies at the dinner table - but because at a glance it looked like Red Son had stolen himself a spouse without warning them! And he brought some of his spouses family members to hammer out the details!

If the gang hadn't immediately brought up the Samadhi Fire; DBK's next sentence would have been asking them; "What are your intentions with my child? Do we need to provide a dowry? Is there plans for grandchildren?"

Red Son might have died on the spot. XD

[pinazee]

And down the stretch comes murder

I wanted to take this moment to highlight the adorable child actors they got- Liam James and Carlos McCullers II. They are so perfectly cast as Shawn and Gus and they do such an amazing job! Im so impressed by them 👏👏

The whole spitball incident really highlights the differences between Shawn and Gus’ ethics. Shawn feels guilty for thinking he got the wrong spitter and ruined Jimmys life while Gus actually did it and feels no remorse at all. Perhaps it’s because Jimmy tortured Gus more, but it’s also come up a few other times i believe, that Gus is not above revenge nor is always willing to do the right thing if it interferes with his safety or his own code of justice, whereas with Shawn it’s like he can’t rest until he’s made things right. This, in addition to the ways he looks out for people (helping Lassie solve a case without him knowing, helping juliet find some kids without getting paid, standing between Gus and a gun), I think is why i tend to be more drawn to Shawn. I love tender-hearted morally just characters. Im not saying he’s always riding the high horse (pun intended), simply that at the end of the day you know he’s going to do the right thing. Don’t get me wrong, i love a morally ambiguous character too, and if I’m honest Gus’s outlook is certainly more realistic, but if i had to pick a favorite, i want the reliably good and wholesome over the self-serving. Not that im saying Gus is selfish at all, but of the two Shawns more our hero, even compared to his own cop father. I think Juliet is the only one who comes closest to matching that above and beyond heroism. I think the only reason she’s a step below is because Shawn simply notices others more. Thats all. If Juliet had Shawns abilities she’d be just as on top of it as him, probably more so. Actually she might get overwhelmed by seeing it all and not being able to help everyone. I think it’d be really hard for her to ignore sometimes. Which, okay I’m going down a tangent, but do you think Shawn had to learn to shut it off sometimes or like, learn to walk away? Cause i imagine day to day Shawn’s seeing people dealing with grief, abuse, or pain and with as kind as he is, it must be hard for him to ignore. Like if you’ve ever seen Daredevil, I’m imagining a less dramatic version of that haha

Henry will take any opportunity to point out Shawns failings or try to make him feel less than. Shawn tells him he’s there for a case and instead of asking him about it, Henry goes right back into you never could be a good handicapper because you lack the patience and follow-through it takes to put the time in and research. Also, the line “i let him talk to me” just doesn’t sit right with me even if the guy did turn out to be a skeeve. This kind of stuff makes me think Shawn either learned how to respect people from his mother or refused to treat people like his father. Probably both, though i hate to give her credit for anything haha

Look at his smile when he sees Lassie feed the horse. He’s so warmly amused by him. I wasn’t a Shassie shipper originally (as i just didn’t ship ppl in ye olden days) but i think I am now. I see it guys, I get it haha

These scenes are what makes the episode for me! I love them! We get to see both Shawns interacting and how he utilizes his vast memory, taking a peak into his mind palace so to speak. Plus he literally answered that common question of if you could go back in time what would you tell your younger self? (“Think big!”) I know they never really intended for this to be like a deep scene (nor expected certain fans to overanalyze it haha) but i like how he approaches the kid version of himself with a certain degree of amusement. Like I imagine if i was seeing my young self I’d probably be rolling my eyes at my sheer stupidity, but Shawns a lot kinder to himself haha Also little Shawns line “I thought I’d be bald by 20” was fucking gold! I wish I had better words for why this works so well but all i have is that it does and its brilliant.

Nice try Psych, your Canada is showing ;)

Heres some completely irrelevant info. The difference between a dreamcicle and a creamcicle: both are orange flavored, but dreamsicles had an ice milk center while a creamsicle was ice cream. And dreamsicles are no longer made.

I like this addition to the background. Its so cute. (Sidenote: this screenshot makes it seem like Shawn is the babyfaced assassin)

P.S This is the second episode ive seen him hold this frog. That is all.

[carionto]

It'll be "awesome", the Human said

(Continuation/conclusion to this)

____________________________

After the Coalition delegates had been mindblown enough, it was time for them to finally leave and have a nap. But Captain Knoslark had one more thing he desperately wanted to show them.

"So, like, we're a science vessel and we have three of the biggest reactors, right? Right. So, I wanna show you what we recently figured out we can do. C'mon, it'll be awesome."

Awesome - a word the rest of the Galaxy will soon learn to both admire and run for cover whenever a Human uses it.

With trepidation in their steps, and worry in their breaths, they followed the all too eager Captain, who was almost skipping and humming down the halls, dramatically pointing the way. His crew continued to not give him the satisfaction of ever acknowledging his theatrics.

"Once the reactors are in good enough sync, we'll reconfigure the Radiant Dusk to a circular shape and begin!"

Oh. Yeah. Of course their ships can also transform. Why not. The delegates have given up thinking there are things Human engineering can't accomplish. Also, good enough?

"Eh, don't worry about it, we overbuild everything, so a 1 or 2 percent margin of error is fine, most of the time."

They could not imagine themselves to be more worried. At least not until a few minutes from now.

"Captain, she's ready," Chief Engineer Tameki's tone changed to a total blank deadpan for the next words, "to transform. and. roll. out."

With childlike glee, Captain Knoslark tapped the big red button, specifically designed for his pad only, to begin the sequence.

Distant creaking of metal, anguish at the prospect of bending in ways nature never intended, and the unmistakable jolt of mechanical movement, despite the artificial gravity maintaining the same down throughout, once more instilled primal anxiety for the delegates.

The reactors wound up, turning the almost-buzz like feeling beneath their feet to a true all encompassing sense of absolute power. Three small stars at equidistant points along the now 4km in diameter vessel created a singular feeling of something imminent that should never have been possible. The Universe itself wanted to reject this possibility.

"We tried copying your mass field generators from way back when you did the barrier thing. Wanted to see if we could get close to Black Hole levels, there were some theories that time travels was possible with that kinda pull."

I don't think anyone would be surprised if they had succeeded, but, for once during their entire visit, the Humans said they couldn't get time travel to work. Celebration! Then the Captain kept talking.

"So what happened instead is we accidentally tore a hole in time-space, creating a sort of warp gate." He said with both joy and disappointment.

Then the Universe shrieked. A massive distortion in reality now struggled and failed to restore normality between the ring-shaped ship. Swirling coils of matter flickered in and out, ghostly visages of detonations on a solar scale. A sight never intended to be witnessed.

"Still gotta figure out how to set a destination to anywhere. Right now the only stable connection we can get is with massive gravity wells, so any celestial body with enough mass, smallest one is a red dwarf. Problem is the connection steers towards the center, so not really practical right now."

"If we try to point at empty space the gate just kinda wiggles and you end up getting spaghetti-fied on the other end. Still, once we get enough ships like this one around the galaxy, we'll solve that whole trips taking more than a few hours thing we got with the hyper drives."

At this point the delegates decided to be escorted away, as most had became a crying mess. One stumbled onto a automated cleaning unit and at this the Captain, whose mood had soured a bit now that his time as tour guide was over, rose back to heights unseen before. With his most official sounding, yet at the same time most joy filled tone ever, he declared:

"Sergeant Ying Zhao, issue an official notice. Today at 20:30 ship time there will be a grand ceremony for the promotion of Captain Stabicus to Special Envoy of the Galactic Coalition. Ready all relevant paperwork, and his new badge, and inform the chef to prepare a feast. We have done much today for the sake of Human-Coalition relationships, and so much more for the Radiant Dusk at Everest and her crew and staff. Tonight, we celebrate!"

[ssentimentals]

f1 pairings as famous love tropes: pierre gasly x yuki tsunoda

popular guy x nerd (university! AU)

'it's like you're in between every my heartbeat: it goes boom then you, then boom, then you'

as far as yuki's concerned, football is a rather stupid physical activity - eleven men are fighting on the pitch with another eleven man for one ball, it doesn't get dumber than that. but universe likes to joke and yuki is definitely her favorite outlet for all stupid jokes, because how else can someone explain that out of at least ten thousand guys in the whole university he fell for the star football player? how did he choose to have a crush size of great china's wall on someone who finds joy in something that yuki hates? how did he end up having heart eyes for someone who'll probably never even look his way?

it's a rhetorical question, of course. yuki has no answers and doubts that universe has them too; so, with just like everything else in his life, he just rolls with it. not very successfully if to trust his friends, but it's not that important. he has a lot to focus on, anyway. his studies are extremely important and while yuki is a wild card and can get shit faced drunk like no one else, he also can study and get all A's like no one else. he makes sure to always be on top of all his courses and that, unfortunately, results in him not having time for many other things like sports or hanging out with friends.

'you little fucker,' nyck pushes him off, acting like he is offended when they both know he can't hold a grudge even for a second. 'so you have no time to hang out with me but have time to go on that football game?'

'priorities,' yuki answers, which earns him a painful slap on the back. 'hey!'

'you don't even like football!' nyck whines and then stops, huffing dramatically. 'ah, yes. how could i forget? the infamous french man is going to be there. the center forward-' nyck bats away yuki's hands when he tries to cover his mouth, continuing: '-the man of your dreams-' yuki aggressively shoves to the wall, noticing how many students are around them, but nyck only laughs harder: '-the one and only, pierre gasly!'

last part turns out louder than intended because yuki started tickling nyck and many students turn to check out what's happening. yuki feels his blood turn cold as he notices a familiar figure of man of his dreams in the crowd too, staring at both of them with raised eyebrows and confusion written across his face. god, he heard. yuki's ears and cheeks burn in shame but even amidst his utter embarrassment he can't help but notice how handsome pierre looks with his fluffy hair, pristine outfit and pretty, pretty eyes. yuki gets lost in the hazy green for few seconds, a bit startled to have them look right back at him with intensity - he only realizes he's been staring when nyck gets himself out of a compomising look position, tugging yuki with him. his friend is muttering something in his ear, but yuki is too stuck on pierre, whose eyes are now glued to nyck's hand on yuki's waist and-

'fucking hell, tsunoda!' nyck forcefully grabs him by the neck. 'let's move before your stupid french guy will-'

'hey!' pierre's voice rings loudly in yuki's ears and he freezes along with nyck. 'nyck, right? what are you doing? you're hurting him.'

yuki is not sure that his eyes can get any bigger and his mouth opens in shock, which definitely alerts pierre even more as his frown deepens and he decidedly marches towards with jaw clenched. 'let him go,' he demands hotly, burning holes in nyck with his eyes. 'can't you see that you're hurting him?'

nyck looks like he's about to laugh hysterically, so yuki comes to the rescue, finally finding his voice. 'it's okay,' he says quietly, moving a bit away from nyck, which definitely pleases pierre as his shoulders sag a little. 'he was just joking.'

yuki's heart stops and then starts beating twice as fast because pierre is right there. right in front of him, standing in all his glory and looking at yuki like he matters. (which is bullshit, he knows. they've never even talked, that's impossible). pierre's eyes are even more piercing up close, he notices. and have his attention solely on himself makes yuki burn with...longing. desire to have this always. (stupid, stupid, stupid).

'pierre! we gotta go!' someone shouts but pierre never looks away from yuki, which is.. a lot. 'pierre! ah fuck, he won't go, he finally has his baby-'

'i'm coming!' pierre suddenly shouts, turning to his friends and showing them middle finger. when he turns back to yuki, he looks almost shy. 'you okay?' yuki nods in haze and he smiles a little. 'okay.'

his friends start to holler and laugh, pierre leaves with one last smile and yuki is left standing in the corridor with nyck, not really beliving that all of this happened. he turns to nyck to check if this is all a dream, but his friend looks deep in a thought. when he turns to yuki, he suddenly chuckles, shaking his head. 'you know what? go to that football game, my friend. go.'

=+=

football game is hectic as always. yuki makes sure to come as early as possible to get the best seat but he generally hates this amount of people and how everyone is pushing and acting like animals. clutching bottle of water in his hands, he stares up at the pitch, where pierre is warming up with his teammates. he is annoyingly pretty in this stupid uniform, even hideous color combination of pink and blue suits him. footballers start to run back at forth and yuki can't look away from pierre, who also spots him as everyone runs in their direction. yuki blames his wild imagination on the way he notices how pierre's face lights up and he jogs a bit faster to their side. girls all scream and yuki scowls at this - god, did he have to choose someone this popular to have a crush on? he looks up as pierre comes closer and when french guy waves (albeit a bit unsurely) at him, yuki's heart jumps up his throat. in the spur of bravery, yuki raises both arms in the air and shouts: 'allez!' in the worst french accent ever. pierre stutters, bumps at another guy and looks up at yuki with wide eyes, disbelief clear on his face. someone from his team cackles and yuki can only smile unsurely, slowly lowering his arms. he is down bad, isn't he? sitting at the football game, when he can't care less about this sport and learning french for a guy, who doesn't eve know him. he pushes those thoughts away and concentrates on...on pierre, mostly. how he's running, how instantly serious he gets, how he leads his team to the win with a huge gap. whole stadium roars and yuki is with them, sincerely smiling and clapping for the captain. pierre looks incredibly happy and that's enough for yuki to feel happy too; he watches him for few more minutes before deciding that it's time to go. home crowd grows insane at the win and yuki tries to make his way out but instead only gets pushed together with the crowd that is marching towards the pitch. he yelps, gets a hold of someone's hoodie and holds on for dear life. in a blink of an eyes he's on the pitch and he finally takes a deep breath as everyone rushes to footballers with questions and hugs; he slowly makes his way to the other side, stopping only when noticing pierre close to him. like summoned, pierre turns and stares at him too, hugging one of his teammates. yuki's mind blanks out and he awkwardly mutters: 'good job!' to pierre because it'd be rude not to say anything to the captain of winning team. pierre's smile grows even wider and he shyly ducks his head down.

'arigato,' he says loudly enough for everyone to hear. yuki blinks in stupor and pierre's smile grows hesitant. 'it's- i didn't pronounce it right?'

'yuki, please, have mercy on him!' some guy appears right in front of him, grabbing pierre and pulling him close to yuki. 'listen, this dude- pierre, stop fucking fighting! right, so this dude right here has been learning japanese for the past two months, okay? all for you, yuka!'

'it's yuki,' pierre corrects hotly, finally getting out of the grip the other guy had on him. 'get the fuck out charles, putain-'

'he likes you!' someone else from the football team screams. 'we all know about you yuki, because he won't stop-'

'that's enough!' pierre roars and rolls his eyes at loud laughter that follows. when he turns back to yuki, he looks sheepish. 'i'm sorry. they are idiots and-'

'i'm taking french lessons,' yuki blurts out, making pierre freeze. and to clarify, he adds: 'and not because i'm planning to go to france.'

pierre blinks and he's a bit slow to catch on, but when he does, the look of pure adoration he send to yuki has him spinning. 'i'm pierre,' he says, extending his hand. 'but you already knew that.'

'yuki. but you already knew that too.' yuki tries not to think of how small his hand is comparing to pierre's. tries not to think of how warm and a bit sweaty it is, how yuki never wants to let go.

'hajimemashite,' pierre says, grinning from ear to ear.

'enchante,' yuki follows, smiling as well. okay, maybe football isn't that stupid anymore.

a/n: what is the name of their ship? but anyways, these two make me sosososo soft and seeing them always together during drivers parade makes me very emotional :') let me know what you think of this one and check out my other f1 stuff here and come say hi! - nini

if you're into kpop then my writings for seventeen are here

[beatingdrumspouringwine]

The names of the Gods

I vaguely promised an essay on my thoughts on the names of the Gods about a week ago or so, and thus I shall deliver :)

A few months ago when I was scrolling on TikTok (as one does), I came across a video by @olympianbutch talking about invocations in traditional Hellenic Polytheist prayers. The whole video was good, so I'll link the video (for the invocation): [here], and you can watch it all for yourselves. (And you should watch the two videos before it, they were equally good and educational). In it, he explained why we start prayers by saying the Gods' names: "This is because the ancient Greeks believed that when you said a God's name, They went: [insert action of dramatically turning around here]." Now, this was definitely funny, but once the full implications of that statement sunk in, it permanently changed how I viewed my own praying (in a good way, of course, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this thing based off of the video).

Now, the idea that your speech can call a God to you is something incredibly amazing, incredibly beautiful, and incredibly powerful. It means that the very second you state Their name, They can see your whole situation, and respond accordingly. I think this is something good to keep in mind, especially as the influence of 2020 witchtok/pagantok fades out (I was deep in this back then, so I'm speaking from that perspective [at some point in the future I'm doing a ramble on this as well, and how it impacted my early worship + relationships with the Gods {no hate if you were there too, I think it lowkey sucked for all of us}]). I used to feel really nervous that I didn't have a Real Connection with the Gods because I wasn't constantly hearing Their voices in my head, or having some kind of miraculous encounter with Them on a daily basis, and I used to base a lot of the idea of a "successful prayer life" around those encounters. However, since hearing of the concept of the Gods seeing you when their names are called, I've found my worries about that trickling away. When I pray, whichever God I'm praying to is there, and I can simply revel in the knowledge that I am standing (or sitting, or kneeling) in the presence of the God(s). The Gods are ever-present to begin with, but by calling upon Them in prayer, I am able to be face-to-face with Them in a more meaningful way, even if it's not something immediately sensible.

Beyond my prayer life, I've also found myself a lot more thoughtful about when I say the Gods' names. For deities that I worship frequently like Hermes or Dionysos, I'll be a bit more lax. I'll call upon Them for little things, like seeing a little crystal phallus in a metaphysical shop, or praying for safe travels. For deities that I once worshiped closely, like Artemis, I'll call upon Her in praise of the beauty of nature, especially if it's getting Real Beautiful or Real Cool. And even for deities that I rarely worship except on feasts, like Zeus, I'll call upon Him in praise of good things that fall under His domain, as a "I know it was You doing this!" kind of thing.

Anyways, this ended up a bit more rambly than I initially intended it to be, but I hope that somewhere within this ADHD-addled writing there was something of substance that's useful to you in your practice :) The Gods are always there, something something, always good, something something, I love Them.

[eastwindmlk]

For this month's @jilychallenge I have been partnered with @elliemarchetti with the prompt Person A is looking forward to an ice cream and person B takes the last one.

Did I stretch the prompt a little? Yes, but you will just need to squint to find it! This month also features Chaotic Sirius. 1804 words under the cut!

“I really don’t see what the big deal is,” Mary complained as Lily dragged her feet to the ‘guard station’ at the gate of the newest event that she’d dragged Mary to. 

Rolling her eyes, Lily stood in front of the temporary wooden structure and humoured her friend by posing for a picture that she would more than likely be flooded with somewhere in the coming week with copious attempts to cajole her into posting them. 

Which was something she was not quite comfortable with yet. Most of the people she worked with still had no idea this was how the star student spent her weekends. The few people who did find out had spotted her in photos posted by the events. 

It also turned out that one or two had actually seen her at the event itself, which made for good lunch break conversations. She’d learned a lot about historical costuming, and her watch and reading lists had grown exponentially. 

All things considered, she was quite happy with the way things had turned out. They were even going to meet a few of them on the grounds as soon as they had done the rounds and likely bought more than either of them intended to. 

“Are you disappointed there are no knights this time round?” Mary asked, while they strode down the path, locked arm in arm. Dodging sword handles and sweeping tails. The dusty palace paths were lined on one side by white canvas tents that held the shopkeepers, the other side with flower beds. 

Despite there being plenty of open space on the other side of those flowers, it felt more cramped than the other events they’d been to. 

The sun was burning far too hot for the early spring, but when she mentioned it to Mary, the weather gods decided to mock her. A sudden splash of rain instantly made everything mucky and humid. A photographer had cornered them, and she watched a Disney princess steal away the hand-bound diary she’d had her eye on in the meantime. It was when she was quite unceremoniously shoved aside by one of the Schuyler sisters while trying to buy another trinket for her dress that Lily decided she had enough. 

“Let’s go find the food,” she suggested in a tired tone, fanning herself as they tried to manoeuvre out of the tent. Wedged somewhere between drinking horns and bonnets made from scrap fabric while people perused the wears, all of them too absorbed in the to buy or not to buy to notice two women trying to get out. 

They followed the path to one of the paths, now a lot less dusty than before, down to one of the central hubs. Where they’d set up large tents with rows of tables and benches reminiscent of the mess hall at boarding school. 

Here the people that came to drink and be merry would gather almost as soon as the event opened. Now, you could see cliques of similarly dressed people raising horns and tankards with ale. Wave around large meat skewers and smell the wood-smoked salmon that Lily had looked forward to. 

“So, where do we start?” Mary asked, surveying the options, her hands at her sides and clearly far more ready to attack than the redhead. 

Lily pushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, checking her coin purse, and wrinkled her nose in annoyance. “The coin place. I need to trade some money.” 

“You didn’t get any at the gate? Why?” Mary groaned, throwing her head back dramatically as she pulled her along to the little caravan. Or rather, the endless line of people who’d made the same mistake as Lily had. 

Huffing and puffing, the pair slowly made their way to the front, where she exchanged her very real pounds for carnival tokens. The whole while, the pair of them discussed where their journey of snacking should be starting. 

Only to throw the entire plan out of the window when they finally had said coins. They were both hot and grumpy, and there was only one thing that was going to fix this. 

Ice cream. 

It was hard to miss the fake pirate ship waving a flag with a cartoon ice cream cone in a pirate hat. So that was where they were heading. 

“I don’t know if the Jolly in Jolly Rodger meant chuffed, but I have decided that it does now,” Lily remarked, practically skipping to their net and jute awning to read the menu of The Skull and Cones Sundae shop. Both of them giggled at an impressive list of punny names and delicious-sounding specials. 

Watching a few people leave with a fish-shaped cone that was richly filled, they decided that was precisely what she wanted. “I don’t know what that is called, but I want one,” Mary decided with a nod as they joined the slow-moving line. 

One by one, they watched as the stack of fish-shaped cones disappeared. Much to their disappointment, they realized that they would likely only be able to get one once they would finally make it to the front of the line. 

This led to a disappointing bout of boulder, parchment, sheers, and then the pair of them decided to share the one they would get, and then they would let the person scooping pick a second for them. This way, both of them were happy and neither of them needed to decide. 

Both Lily and Mary too fixated on staring at the cone, believing, or rather hoping, that if they kept staring at it, the person in front of them would not do the unthinkable and snatch the last one away under their noses. 

So, naturally, that is just what happened. The person in front of them dressed in a green cape, a leather strappy contraption and, most bravely of all in this heat, a red scarf ordered and the last cone was carried away. 

Devastated, Lily’s eyes followed it to where a surprisingly familiar-looking brunette was working on constructing the intricate frozen treat. She blinked a couple of times and then she heard it. 

“Lily?” 

And immediately her head snapped to find the sound of her name. For a moment, her despair about being unable to have the treat she’d been hoping for melted away. “Hi,” she greeted him, breathless as usual. 

Honestly, it was just unfair at this point. For all intents and purposes, James should have looked ridiculous in his cartoonish get-up. She would not be surprised if it included the red and black striped trousers that seemed to come with every cheap Halloween version of a pirate. 

“I like your bandana,” she chuckled, watching him flick the shiny polyester cap with a wonky skull and crossbones printed on it. Unable to stop beaming while he flicked one of the tails dramatically, winking at Lily. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see Mary roll her eyes at the pair of them. “You work here now?” she asked, equal parts amused and impatient. 

“No, I am just wearing this because it looked fun,” James shot back without missing a beat, taking a deep breath. “How about I get you two something cold and then you can sneak around back in time for me to take a break? Saying the last bit a little louder, summoning Sirius from behind the curtain, wearing something even more outlandish. 

Something in the back of her mind told her that he was supposed to be a pirate called Patchy, not that she could quite remember why or where she might know the costume from. 

He sauntered up to the counter, pushing James away from the counter, and flashed a charming smile at them, fake gold tooth included. Somehow still looks beautiful under all that ridiculousness. “Arr, what can I do you lassies for?” Sirius asked, and both of them had to stifle a fit of giggles.

“Well, we wanted one of those shark cones, but you seem to be out,” Lily sighed as she fanned herself, looking at the menu just past him. “So, I suppose I’ll settle for whatever you recommend and how you went from knights to… This.” She motioned at their outfits. 

Rubbing their lips together, both James and Sirius peered around. Just double-checking that they really were out of the cones she mentioned. Frowning as they reached the same conclusions as they did. 

It was then that Sirius darted away, snatching the cone they’d watched being made for the lady in front of them, away just as Remus was handing it over. “So, sorry,” he told the very surprised woman. “Unfortunately, the Shark Attack Scooper is sold out. Can I offer you an alternative?”

Everyone blinked, looking intently at the cone in his hand and at the uncomprehending look on the woman’s face. “B-but you’re holding it,” she stammered, confused, and started reaching out for it only to have Sirius hold it away further from her and hand it to James, who stood behind him.

“My deepest apologies, ma’am, but I must insist that you select something else,” he pressed. His tone was polite, but it absolutely suggested that there was no room for discussion. 

The only thing that was keeping this from turning into a ping-pong of yesses and nos was that Sirius was keeping up an impressive display of firm, but polite hospitality. Which was more impressive, considering he did just steal her order away from right under her nose.

Before they could get too engrossed, James snapped them out of the near childish back and forth. “Come on,” he said, nodding his head towards the back. The mysterious behind-the-scenes Lily had been dying to see. 

They manoeuvred through the guy lines of the awning, dodging miscellaneous parts of a pirate ship and skipped over a pair of crates to where James was waiting for them. Holding his hand out to help Lily over.

Both were a little too distracted with each other to notice that Mary was still struggling to get to meet them. He pulled her closer, already leaning down to claim the kiss that had become the way they greeted each other. Every one of them is better than the first one. 

Lily couldn’t help but wonder when the unwillingness to part after the hunger for another kiss would turn to a hunger for more. Or rather, when this hunger would finally consume her. The heat from the early afternoon sun rivalled by the heat his touch ignited in her. 

When their greeting was interrupted by Mary taking the cone from his hand and sneaking past them. “Don’t mind me, I am just taking this before it melts like Lily’s dignity,” she stage-whispered, shooting her friend a wink. 

And just like that, Lily still missed out on her ice cream. 

[typellblog]

I kind of hate what they did to fblthp by the way (surprisingly long post)

Like here's the card the character is first shown on. While he's a main focus of the art his name only comes up in the flavour text - he's being used to help evoke the feeling that this card is actually about, being lost.

The specificity of his silly design and silly name helps make the scenario more concrete and in doing so got people invested in the character

Now there's already kind of a limit to what you can further do with this kind of guy, he's not by nature intended to become any more prominent than he already is, but what they did end up doing fits quite nicely

In a few different cards set on ravnica he appears as a cameo in the art. Not a main focus, not referenced in the flavour text, he's just doing his usual business of being lost and overshadowed by everything else going on as he is by the crowds in the original piece

But of course, not satisfied by that, we get fblthp becoming the center of a card in his own right:

I don't entirely hate this - in war of the spark the landscape of ravnica dramatically shifts & now fblthp's typical lostness, incongruity, becomes a touchstone for those more invested in the setting. Whether it's a crowd or a warzone, fblthp remains lost.

I think the point where it becomes a little too much is this:

Now alongside borborygmos, the joke becomes, of course, that fblthp's small stature is overshadowed by the massive cyclops. But nonetheless fblthp figures heavily in this card - is not hidden away like his cameos, but placed in a spot where the eye is drawn to. His name is on the name of the card, his colour identity of blue is in the casting cost, and his ability to "get lost" actually serves as a powerful way to protect the card from removal. This card is part of a cycle of legendary creatures teaming up to defend their home planes from phyrexia and in that context fblthp is elevated to that mythic status - no longer a representation of the overshadowed & everyday life of ravnican citizens, but as an example of one of the exceptions to it.

And that, in turn, leads to:

This fucking sucks, dude. Fblthp is not remotely 'lost' in this card, he is the main attraction, the center of attention, perspective meaning he actually overshadows the dragons surrounding him. Mechanically speaking - the "plot" keyword was introduced in thunder junction, the set this card is from. he does not remotely feel out of place in his design.

The single, solitary way in which this card works is that it takes the joke of fblthp to the next level, has him cameo in not a different card but a different plane entirely, puts him in an incongruous cowboy hat, makes him not just lost but lost 'on the Range'.

The problem with this is that it's also the entire joke of the set.

Every character is incongruous in Thunder Junction because none of them are native to the plane, it is filled with returning characters where the whole point is "look it's Oko but he has a cowboy hat, please laugh"

And it's not just Planeswalkers, either - with the introduction of omenpaths to the lore now any character can go to different planes. Maybe fblthp could have continued to be funny if he was the only non-planeswalker to appear in truly foreign locales, propelled only by the mysterious power of The Bit

But it's ultimately impossible for anyone, any thing to be truly incongruous in the post-modern era of magic the gathering because they all have to be recognisable, marketable & evocative of nostalgia

A little guy whose whole bit is cameo appearances cannot survive in a world whose entire design philosophy is oriented towards increasingly unsubtle cameo appearances

[goldeneyedgirl]

Sonya! (Imagine, for a moment, that Tumblr Staff actually fixed the bug that means I have to screenshot and tag you @sonyawix for replies.) I missed you!

Jasper's just there realising that a couple of decades of training and practice with the Cullens was no match for a tiny teenage girl who looks at him like he's the second coming. She did more for his self-esteem in one night than anyone has done for him since he was human.

Jasper's softer in STL and his trauma has already been sorted, organised, and filed in his mental storage unit so he just has to simp over worry about Mary-Alice. Mary-Alice has the trauma conga-line but it gets pretty soft for both of them starting next chapter.

But it's why Jasper chapters are usually easier to write.

And listen, we all switch hyperfixations. I read a whole bunch of MCU fics that had Correct Vibes but Incorrect Takes, and beautililies had to stop me from writing MCU fic before I worked on Jalice fics. Also the idea I am carrying 70% of your Jalice experience is fucking wild. What do you want? I feel like I need to give you something because 2024 was not my most active year ever.

My little Mabel has recovered from the infections she had well, but decided to keep things interesting and acquired an ear infection which has since been upgraded to a double ear infection because what's more fun than a lot of credit card debt? Even more credit card debt! She is why I can only stare longing at Coach bags and not own fun stuff like that.

And honestly, I join you in solidarity that my sister and father are also Shitty Fucking People. Sometimes, people are rancid, and we just need to salute their bullshit and carry on our merry way.

It is law that if you bring up Anathema, I post something. I picked this scene WIP because Alice being a dramatic teenage girl is somehow so funny in my head? I can't wait to get to a scene where she's dramatic in front of Jasper and he's just "...you're adorable, you know that right?" And she's like, "absolutely not."

But for now, Alice makes a small scene.

“This is to never get back to the Clearwaters,” I could hear Freddie saying to Charlie Swan in a low voice. “Any of them. I trust you, Charlie.”

Charlie sighed. “Fred, I’ve known you a long time, and I don’t like this at all. What is so important you have to meet with them alone, without Sue and Billy knowing?"

Silence, and I was tempted to creep up the hallway to be able to hear better.

“… This is about Alice and her well-being. If… I have reason to believe that if Sue, Harry, and Billy knew more about Alice’s … health and genetic make-up, they would be deeply unhappy."

That was most likely an understatement. I had a feeling that if Sue found out that I was biologically half-vampire, I would be persona-non-grata in the Clearwater household. There was a fifty-percent chance that Harry would hunt me for sport, honestly. His aim with a shotgun was second-to-none.

//

Dr Cullen had brought his wife, and there was something almost funny seeing them in our home - they were both dressed in very stiff, fancy clothing, standing in the entrance looking awkward. I was in the kitchen finishing the washing up in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt; both Freddie and Charlie were still wearing work clothing.

The apartment was still mostly in the late 60s style from when it was built. Lots of brown and yellow. Freddie always intended to renovate, but we never seemed to get around to it - moving all the books would take us days, and we’d have to stay downstairs. It was cozy up here, and if we made any changes, it would be to clean out the third floor.

“Hello Alice.” Mrs Cullen smiled so warmly at me, but I felt oddly shy, offering a little wave as I put plates back into the cupboard.

“Turn on the coffee maker, love, before you go,” Freddie said, and I got the message that this wasn’t going to be a meeting I was included in. I wasn’t upset about that; somehow Dr and Mrs Cullen were far and away more intimidating than Jasper was. Somehow the golden eyes and the pale skin that looked so right on him made me nervous around them.

Thankfully, Dulcie was having dinner with her brother’s family tonight. It meant we could have this meeting at home and she’d probably bring home left-over dessert. Hopefully that really good blueberry donut thing that Mrs Stanley usually made for Dulcie’s birthday.

It also meant that whilst I had been told I wouldn’t be joining in on the meeting today, there was no one in the house that would check to make sure I was wearing headphones and watching movies on my laptop instead of eavesdropping for all I was worth. And in my defence, I had to know what Freddie was telling everyone so I didn’t mess up the story later on. It was just planning ahead.

//

“He can read minds?” I shrieked, giving myself away instantly.

Charlie Swan swore, sloshing his coffee in surprise, as the rest of them spun around to look at me in the hallway.

“Alice,” Freddie groaned but I didn’t care that I would be doing extra cleaning this week or whatever as punishment.

A girl’s mind is private. There are things happening up there that die with me, okay?

Things like me contemplating the logistics of having sex on a gurney now that I’d met Jasper and realised he was a foot and a half taller than me, and probably 100lb heavier.

Or the fact that whilst my visions hadn’t been instructional, so to speak, they had given me a certain amount of reference material to reflect on. I might never have been a Girl Scout, but I do like to be prepared.

And the idea that one of the Cullens could mind-read and had probably told the entire family that a good fifty-percent of my brain power was solely dedicated to what I had seen of Jasper’s body in my vision at any time was… not ideal. Not at all how I planned to integrate myself into their lives. I was aiming for lovable future daughter-in-law, not mouth-breathing creeper.

“Edward considers the contents of everyone’s mind private, unless harm would result in keeping it secret,” Mrs Cullen quickly reassured me. Please. I had seen Leah and Seth together; I knew what siblings were like. There was no way in hell that Jasper hadn't been informed that I had absolutely noticed he was ripped when he helped me up.

“I’m taking a lot of emotional damage learning this,” I said slightly hysterically. “Can he hear everything?”

“Only when he’s present.” Was Dr Cullen laughing at me? He looked amused.

“Alice,” Freddie sounded tired. “There are brownies in the downstairs freezer if you want some dessert.”

Huh. It was bad if Freddie was bribing me with the catering supplies.

“That would help,” I said, trying to walk through the kitchen to get a knife with some kind of dignity. “You understand why I would be uncomfortable with a teenage boy reading my mind, right?”

“I think we’re all on the same page about that,” Charlie said. He didn’t look amused.

"Alice, I really don't think there's anything in your head that Edward Cullen would worry about," Freddie said, obviously trying to sound comforting and mostly made me want to slam my head against a wall.

"I've had unmonitored access to the internet since I was eleven and no boyfriend! Or girlfriend! There's plenty up there I don't want Jasper's brother knowing!" I snatched up the cake knife and looked over to see Freddie looking like he needed a drink, Charlie Swan looking the most uncomfortable I had ever seen him - and that included the ass-injury incident - and Mrs Cullen trying very unsuccessfully not to laugh at me.

"And now I've made it worse. I'm calling Cynthia!"

It's not the fact that my father was a vampire that makes me a freak. I manage to do that all by myself.

[mentally-a-slut]

Luck Ain't Got Nothin' To Do With It Teaser

ALRIGHT Y'ALL HERE'S A LITTLE TEASER FROM MY POLY CHAURTHUR FIC!!

i just put down a random title, i'm not sure it'll stay the same but it'll do for now! this is from later in the fic, about 20k words in i think, but i thought it was a cute interaction to show!

notes: Josie is the main character and my OC in this fic, her love interests are both Arthur and Charles and she is Sean's older sister. she's irish ofc, and she is pretty stereotyped simply because Sean is too and they're siblings. also part of her character is that she leans into the whole "luck of the irish" thing, so it's not meant to be ignorant in the way she is described. no offense is intended by the characterization of Josie or Sean for that matter, and if anyone has a valid issue with it, lmk.

anyway, enjoy, and let me know if you want me to start posting the full fic!

Josie was up before anyone else the following morning, which would have been impressive except for the fact that pretty much everyone was hungover.

She had refused to drink last night, knowing that she was set to depart the next day. She had traveled with a hangover before and had no intention of doing it again anytime soon. It was a whole hour before someone else stirred. Kieran stumbled groggily through the brush, emerging from his haven on the outskirts.

Josie greeted him with a small smile, tipping her hat as she sipped her coffee. He spoke in a whisper as he approached her, eyes narrowing under the morning light. “Morning, Miss Josie.”

Josie chuckled softly at his formality, taking off her hat and placing it firmly on his head to shield the sun. His cheeks flushed red at her actions, and she sent him a friendly smirk. “Just Josie, Kieran. And you can borrow my hat until your hangover dies down. I know how bad the sun feels the morning after a fun night.”

He fiddled with the hat on his head, stuttering through a reply. “Thank you, Josie. I appreciate it.”

She nodded, and they fell into a mutual silence as they stood idle by the fire.

Hosea was not long after Kieran, looking far more chipper than one should after the celebration of the previous night. He didn’t approach the pair, opting to send a silent wave in their direction and make his way to the lake. Josie caught the tail end of a fishing rod in his wake, and she smiled when she realized he was likely taking advantage of the quiet morning to do some fishing.

Within the next couple hours, the others emerged with dramatic groans and complaints, followed by a poorly received yell from Miss Grimshaw telling everyone to smarten up. Dutch laughed good-naturedly and waved the matriarch off, telling everyone to take the day easy to recover. Susan didn’t look very happy about the sentiment but followed his orders anyway.

Kieran trotted off to tend to the horses as the camp livened up, his discomfort around the others clear. Seraphina took the boy’s spot next to her, plopping her butt down on her boot. Josie couldn’t stay mad at the husky, failing to scold her for trapping her. Josie enjoyed the quiet time with her pup until Jack made his appearance, frantically whipping his head around looking for something. The something turned out to be the very dog next to her, and he let out an excited squeal as Seraphina pranced over to him, freeing Josie’s boot from the confines of her butt.

She vaguely heard John’s voice grumbling towards his son to quiet down, the little boy’s exclamation likely causing discomfort for most everyone in camp. Josie snorted, finally moving from her idle position by the fire for the first time in hours.

Almost everyone was accounted for, grumbling messes stumbling out of their tents by noon, still clad in nightclothes with no intention to change.

After a few scans of camp, Josie furrowed her eyebrows and looked around for Charles. Arthur was no where to be seen, which was unlike the man. He was usually one of the first awake. Charles was already looking her way when she met his gaze, and Josie tried not to blush. She made her way over to him, holding his stare as she spoke. “Where’s Arthur?”

Charles huffed out a laugh, wincing slightly as the noise sent a slight twinge through his head. It seemed he wasn’t immune to the effects of alcohol after all. “No one told you? Arthur’s an awful drunk. He’s probably holed up in his tent, trying to sleep it off. We’ll be lucky if we see him all day.”

Josie frowned at this, which caught the man’s attention. “Why? Everything okay?”

She flashed a smile at him, heart fluttering at the concern he displayed for her. “Yeah, I was just hoping to say goodbye to him before I left.”

His eyes flickered with an emotion close to panic, but he masked it quickly with his usual indifference. “You’re leaving?”

Josie studied his expression for any sign of discontent at her departure, sighing lightly when she found none. “Yeah, was gonna take my leave today. I did what I came for, don’t wanna overstay my welcome.”

He hummed, processing her words. He spoke again, shifting the conversation in a strangely sudden way. “Hey, how about we get Arthur up? That way you can say goodbye.”

Josie knitted her brows. “I don’t want to upset him or anything…”

Charles waved her off, moving to go towards Arthur’s tent without giving her a chance to protest. “He’ll be fine, c’mon.”

She stammered in confusion for a moment before speed walking to catch up with him, pausing at the entrance to the tent. Charles took the lead, knocking on the wooden supports of the canvas. The answering groan was pained, followed by a string of curses that would make Susan smack him upside the head. Charles stifled a grin before going in, motioning Josie to follow.

She hesitated a moment before entering, trying not to blush at the implications of entering a tent with Charles.

“Wake up, Arthur, Josie wants to say goodbye.”

Charles did Arthur the favor of keeping his voice down, but the disheveled man still cursed him out. “Get the hell out of my- what do you mean say goodbye?”

Arthur suddenly sat up, groaning and cradling his head when the movement sent a jolt of pain through his brain. He shook his head and continued to get up, bleary eyes struggling to focus on the awkward redhead before him. “Well, I’m taking my leave later today. I did what I came for and all, so no reason for me to stay.”

Arthur sent as much of a glare towards Charles as he could manage, grunting when he tried to stand up and stumbled. Charles steadied him with a smug smile on his face as Arthur continued cursing him out while leaning on him for support. Arthur stammered through his words, gaze flickering nervously as he tried to gather his thoughts. “Uh, your arm! You, you can’t just leave with an injury like that, you gotta stay until it’s all healed up.”

Josie stifled a chuckle at the tough cowboy’s slurred words, cocking her head at him. “I’m fine. It’s all patched up now, I don’t need to be babysat.”

Arthur attempted another sentence, looking pointedly at Charles when he stumbled on his words too much to get them out. Charles shifted and abruptly jumped in, a slight nervousness in his tone that she hadn’t heard before. “Uh, Arthur’s right! Just, uh, just to be safe, you should stay a little while longer, you know, infection and… stuff…”

Arthur nodded frantically in agreement before immediately wincing at the discomfort the quick movement caused. Josie glanced between the two men, smiling slightly at the sight of Arthur leaning on Charles. She knew they were being odd, and she had the feeling they were keeping something from her. Instead of stressing herself out over it, she decided to agree with them, just to ease their worries.

“Right. I suppose a couple more days won’t hurt. Uh, if that’s all then, I’ll just be… going now…”

Josie slowly backed out of the tent, suspicious gaze staying locked on the pair until she was out of sight.

The second the tent flaps fell shut, Arthur slumped down onto his cot. Charles kept an arm around his waist as he did so, steadying him on the way down and only letting go when he was sure he wouldn’t fall off. His eyes fell tightly shut, almost like he was trying to block out the throbbing pain the hangover was torturously causing. Charles sighed and looked down at him, a hand going up to rub his forehead. “Smooth, Arthur.”

Arthur made a sound of protest, as much of one as he could, anyway, lightly nudging his foot against Charles’s leg. “You weren’t any better.”

[ohimsummer]

this has been in the drafts since January, also it’s a scrap!! so there’s no real ending (spoiler alert he lost), sowwy babe <3

content: eren x armin's gf, teasing, mean! reader, suggestive, explicit language, not proofread

Eren Yeager considered himself a lot of things, but a bitch was not one of them.

He was notorious amongst his group of friends for accepting any dare, challenge, or bet thrown at him. Even if it was something foolish, all it took was a little prodding at his ego to have him up and running to do whatever it was they'd suggested. Eren thought it made him look cool. You thought it made him look stupid and easier to exploit.

Eren glances at you, more specifically at your boobs in his face which are almost keeling out of your tank top. "So you want me to do...what, exactly?"

You release a dramatic sigh and sit yourself on the arm of the couch, pajama shorts riding up the crease of your thighs and leaving even less to Eren's imagination. "It's a bet, dummy. Go a week without touching me since you like to put your hands on me so much. Think you can handle that?”

He downs the last remnants of water from the bottle in his hand before crinkling the plastic against his leg. "Yeah. But why would I wanna do some shit like that? Give you even more reason to act a fucking ass?"

You grasp at your chest in feigned shock and dismay. "Oh, well, excuse me, then! Big, bad Yeager-boy turning down a challenge? Fine, be that way."

Despite turning in preparation to leave, your feet don't make it to the floor before there’s a strong hold around your waist; Eren holds you in place and then pulls you closer to him, basically onto his lap. "Ah, ah. I didn't say I wouldn't do it, dumbass. What's in it for me if I win?"

You pretend to think up a prize for him, pursing your lips and tapping your cheek. "If you win, I'll do anything you want for a whooole week." A smile spreads across your face as his eyebrows perk up in intrigue. "But if I win, you have to do whatever I say, for a whole week. How's that sound?"

Eren had to admit, you at his beck and call for a week was an enticing offer. Though, at the same time, it gave you a week to be more annoying than usual. But, it would only be for a few days...and after he won he could spend the best week of his life breaking that shit attitude of yours apart and maybe make you behave more often.

"Okay, then.", Eren agrees. You give him a wicked smile and giggle, then begin to explain the rules to him more clearly: no touching you in any sexual way, not to tease nor to taunt, and you make sure to eliminate any specific touches he could try and play off as innocent. Eren decides not to set many rules for you. He liked the challenge, plus, when he won, he intended on making you pay for anything you did for the next 7 days.

The challenge started the very next morning. Eren spent the night wondering how he'd approach it; maybe he'd just avoid you altogether, or try and ignore you and just hope you’d get bored from his lack of reactions. He, unfortunately, wouldn't have any such luck.

"Hey, Eren!"

Eren recognizes your voice behind him as he's walking to his car to head to his apartment. He turns, and his eyes almost pop clean from his head. Thoughts are fighting to be at the forefront of his mind, a prominent one being 'How the fuck is she allowed to wear that on campus?'. There's no time to question it, your voice cuts through his jumbled mind as you ask him for a favor.

"Could you drop me off at the library, 'Ren?", you bat those pretty eyelashes and tilt your head. "I'm supposed to be meeting 'Minnie there but my car's in the shop. Pretty please?"

He agrees. And the week only gets worse from there.

If Eren thought you were insufferable before, it increased tenfold the day this bet started. The car ride on Monday had to be one of the worst experiences of his life. It was bad enough that majority of your skin was revealed, but watching the sweat glisten on your exposed chest, tits pushed up and straining against your top, jostling with every bump in the road that he tried desperately to avoid, made the whole thing that much more unbearable. 

The days following weren’t that much better. Eren realizes how much you’d been holding back when you’d teased him before. Sure you’d lean forward a little and wiggle your ass when you knew he was watching, but now? On your hands and knees in a skirt right in front of him with only the thin fabric of your frilled panties to hide yourself from him? Taking a shower when you knew he was coming over just to let him catch glimpses of your gleaming skin. The worst offense, in Eren’s opinion, was when you “accidentally” text him a photo of your bare pussy, quickly followed by “oops, meant that for ‘minnie so don’t look :(”.  He doesn’t respond, but the read receipt indicating that Eren did indeed see it has you giggling to Armin that night about how fun it was to make his friend’s life even more of a living hell. You don’t know that your high jinks have Eren fucking his fist every night until he can’t even cum anymore, but you like to believe that you have that effect on him anyway.

In spite of your unbearable antics, Eren prides himself on lasting until the final day without touching you. He’s irked at your lack of panic that you’re about to lose, but decides that you’re just putting up a front to make him suspicious. 

[sugarpopss]

Running Sucks

Okay. So. This is very niche bc it takes place in the universe of @bucknastysbabe and I's chat where Bucky got rescued from HYDRA after falling and sent home, settled down w his sweetheart and got to be happy and safe and fat and work for the SSR. Then ALSO they found Steve he's fine and he and Peggy are fucking on the DL. Very much an 'everyone is fine bc it's happy' AU. Steve and Bucky go on runs together and have bestie time. There's just a lot of lore to know alright.

The thing about running is that it sort of sucks. Sure, it’s ‘good for you’ and ‘important to exercise’, but it sucks. That’s an opinion Bucky will stand by until the day he dies. 

The thing about James Buchcanon Barnes in the spring of 1949 is that he wasn’t even that out of shape. He’d always had good stamina and going into the military didn’t hurt that. Besides, whatever they’d pumped him up with in Azzano-traumatic as the whole experience was-seemed to bolster his entire body. He didn’t need to know precisely how. The less time spent thinking about it, the better. The night terrors were calming down and that was good enough. 

So no, Bucky did not have a negative opinion of running simply because he was out of shape. 

And he liked parts of running! He liked being out and about in Brooklyn, he loved hanging out with Steve-especially since their lives had diverged a bit in post-war adulthood. Even if Bucky would’ve never imagined ‘hanging out with Steve’ constituting going on a run before the guy went and got himself shot up with whatever secret smoothie sent him into second puberty. 

He liked jogging with his best friend and swapping banter and gossip with the easy comfort of childhood friendship and the understanding of forged in fire brotherhood. But by god, he hated how his thighs chafed like they were trying to start a fire. Bucky would absolutely admit to having put on a lot of weight since coming home-being full helped him sleep and his wife loved to bake, sue him. It didn’t usually bother him. Being fat felt like being safe, like his body was one hundred percent, absolutely his, even with the metal arm HYDRA had practically superglued onto him before he was rescued. 

But the fucking chafing was something else. And it was the very worst while running. His thighs rubbed together and wore the inseam of his pants to threads, he could feel his entire body jiggle every time his feet hit the pavement, and the sweat that accumulated in the creases underneath his moobs or the overhang of his belly was less than comfortable. 

And because Bucky was the man he was, and had pretty much settled into a happy, domestic life and the good days far outnumbered the bad, he was in the position to be needlessly dramatic. Just for fun. And for attention. 

Which was why about two thirds of the way through the circuit they were running he stopped running and bent over, hand on his knees, and took several heaving breaths like a dying fish. It wasn’t entirely for show-he was out of breath-but he could’ve kept going for a few more minutes. 

The dramatics had their intended effect, though. Steve stopped running and turned around, eyebrows raised. 

“Come on, assclown. You can’t finish five miles?” 

Bucky took another very deep breath and straightened, wearing the same smile that made girls in dance halls fall over themselves almost a decade ago. Not that he used it for that much anymore-he was a happily married man. 

“Said I’d do two. Pretty damn sure I said I’d do two.” 

Bucky had, in fact, said he’d only do two miles. He’d also gotten distracted talking to Steve and just kept running; he’d only noticed how far they’d gone when the friction burn on his inner thighs had become too irritating to ignore. 

“Yeah, but you say that every time. I just tune it out.” 

Steve smiled like he was holding back laughter when he said it, and Bucky laughed after he said it. 

“Whatever, punk. We’re walking the rest.” 

He slung his flesh arm around Steves shoulders, grinning. For all the moaning and groaning he did, Bucky did enjoy this time. 

As they started walking-because they were going to walk the rest of the circuit. He was serious about that-he realized there was something he hadn’t asked Steve about in a while. Something incredibly important that he absolutely wasn’t just using to josh on his friend. 

“Say, you asked Peg to move in with you yet?” 

Steven Grant Rogers went bright pink. 

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Kicho's Main Story Dramatic Epilogue

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support cybird by buying their stories. SPOILERS under the cut. Expect mistakes.

Kicho's subordinate: "Lady Mai."

Mai: "Are they here already?"

Kicho's subordinate: "Yes. They're already waiting for you in the parlor."

Mai: "Okay, I'll be right there."

Stopping what I was working on, I got up from my chair and picked up the clothes hanging in the corner of the room.

(Yup. Everything is good.)

(I hope they'll be pleased this time, too.)

Kicho: "So everything is sold?"

Mai: "Yes. And they also said they would come back again soon."

Mai: "I'll have to come up with a new design as soon as possible."

Kicho: "You're so passionate about your work. No wonder you're so popular."

Mai: "Eh, no. I can't do this job without my customers."

Mai: "And especially you guys. You always help me choose the best clothes!"

Kicho: "I see."

He smiled softly and put the brush down on the desk.

Mai: "Are you done working?"

Kicho: "Yeah. I had less than usual today."

(He said that yet he just finished it now.)

Kicho: "What's wrong? Your expression suddenly darkened."

Mai: "I'm sorry. I haven't been able to help you that much."

Mai: "You're busy because I stopped being your secretary."

Kicho: "Oh, that? I already told you a dozen times not to worry about it."

Kicho: "Since you're busy sewing clothes, there's no need to go out of your way to help me."

Kicho: "Besides, I'm glad it turned out this way."

Mai: "Huh?"

He got up, approached me, and gently took my hand, lightly tracing my fingers.

Mai: "Um, Kicho?"

Kicho: "You have more scars again. You also seem to be working late these past few days."

Mai: "You can tell?"

Kicho: "You're dextrous, so I doubt you'd prick your fingertips this much."

Kicho: "Maybe you did it until late at night and lost focus when you got sleepy."

Mai: "You guessed right. You always see through everything."

Kicho: "I'm closely watching because it's you."

Mai: "Ah..."

He pulled my hand and pressed his lips against my fingertips.

Blushing, he looked up at me and smiled.

Kicho: "You really love your job that you put so much effort into it."

Kicho: "It's one of the things that makes life worth living, so how can I stand in your way for such selfish reasons?"

Mai: "Kicho..."

(He really cares about me.)

(He looks after me and loves me.)

My heart pounded as I kept looking at him, but he took his gaze away from me and looked at the clock.

Kicho: "By the way, you said you'd start tomorrow."

Mai: “Huh?”

Kicho: "I'm talking about work. You'll start designing tomorrow, right?"

Mai: "Yes. I wanted to spend time with you tonight since we haven't been able to spend much time together lately."

Kicho: "I see. If that was your intention all along, then I guess I don't have to seduce you for it."

Mai: "..........."

The words he said made my body tense.

Perhaps sensing this, he let go of my hand, lifted my chin, and kissed me lightly.

Mai: "Nn..."

Kicho: "You're right. We haven't spent much time together lately."

Kicho: "And instead of fading away, my feelings just keep on overflowing."

(Ah...)

He carried me and laid me on the bed while kissing me repeatedly.

Kicho: "Mai."

He leaned in close, brushing a lock of my hair over my ear.

Mai: "Nnn...ngh..."

Our breath mingled as he inserted his hot tongue through my parted lips, and lewd wet sounds echoed in the room.

(We're just kissing, but my whole body feels so hot already.)

(I want more of him.)

My eyelids became heavy as my thoughts melted away, caused by the happiness and heat welling inside me.

(I really love him.)

(I really love Kicho.)

Mai: "No way."

I woke up still feeling dazed as I recalled my blunder last night.

(Please, please let it be a dream.)

(I can't believe I fell asleep.)

The room's owner was already gone, and the sunlight was streaming in from outside the window.

In addition, I could even hear the birds chirping.

(I really fell asleep like that.)

(That was so rude of me一Hmm?)

I suddenly noticed something on the table and got out of bed.

(It's a note. He must have left it.)

(Um, let's see...)

Mai: "Eh!?"

Mai: "Ah! Motonari, this way."

Motonari: "..........."

Motonari sighed as soon as he saw me waving my hand while sitting in the teahouse.

Motonari: "What kind of crap have you brought me today?"

Mai: "It's not crap. I'm really in trouble."

Motonari: "You say that, but it's probably about Kicho. Are you here to brag about your love life again?"

Mai: "Love life?"

Motonari: "You're not aware, huh? In the first place, why are you calling me so casually?"

Mai: "Because I know you'll show up."

Mai: "Please sit next to me. I don't want to stand around talking."

I shifted to the side, and Motonari sat, looking pissed.

Motonari: "So, what is it?"

Mai: "Well, from your perspective, does Kicho look like he's pushing himself too hard?"

Motonari: "Let me ask you something. What made you think so?"

Mai: "He's too kind to me."

Mai: "Look at this."

Motonari: "A note? Ha? What's this?"

Mai: "This is from a few days ago, the morning after I fell asleep on him."

Mai: "And yet, he still wrote an apology for leaving the room first."

Mai: "Moreover, when I returned to my room, he prepared breakfast, clothes, and medicine for my wounds."

Mai: "Isn't it too much? Even though we're lovers, I wonder if I'm making him worry about me a little too much."

Motonari: "............."

Mai: "Motonari?"

Motonari: "What's the difference between this and what you told me the other day?"

Mai: "Huh? Wait, what was it again?"

Motonari: "You said something about him being too soft on you and not being able to keep up with his feelings."

Motonari: "He's not forcing himself or anything. He's just like that to begin with, so get used to it."

Mai: "He's like that?"

Mai: "Do you think I'm the right person for him?"

Motonari: "Ha! You picked the wrong guy to ask that question."

Motonari: "If you don't want that kind of romance, find someone else."

Mai: "Ah! Wait!"

Motonari tried to stand up, but I desperately blocked his way.

Mai: "If I look for someone like that leisurely, my heart will reach its limits in no time."

Mai: "When I expressed my feelings, I had no idea this would happen."

Motonari: "Then go talk to a wall. It'll calm you down if you vent, right?"

Motonari: "Anyway, I have another business meeting. See you later, princess."

Mai: "M-Motonari!"

Not wanting to interfere with his work, I watched Motonari's back as he left.

(Talking to a wall is just so dull.)

(I wish I had someone to talk to.)

Kicho's subordinates, acquaintances, the maids in the trading post, and everyone in the Oda army...

Various faces popped into my head and then disappeared like bubbles bursting.

(This is hard. I guess talking to a wall is better, after all.)

(Oh, right!)

Mai: "So, I bought some souvenirs at the teahouse."

Mai: "I had some rice crackers the other day, and he said they were delicious, so I decided to go with those."

Fuku: "Kicho."

Mai: "Yup, that's right. A souvenir for Kicho."

Fuku, hearing my words, shook her head happily and called out Kicho's name a few more times.

(Fuku really likes to chat.)

(I feel like I've picked the perfect choice.)

Since Fuku often spent time in this room with me during Kicho's business meetings, I thought it would be the perfect place for a secret talk.

Mai: "By the way, Fuku, will you hear me out? The other day Kicho..."

Every time I started talking, Fuku would stare at me with her round eyes.

It was nice to have someone accept my feelings, even if the other party was a parrot.

Mai: "Also, he's so handsome and cool."

Mai: "Wait, I got off-topic. Sorry, I'm just confused by what he said."

Fuku: "............"

I would occasionally feed and pet her head as I talked about Kicho, completely immersed in my new conversation partner.

A few days after I started talking to Fuku...

Kicho: "Mai."

Mai: "Kicho."

As I left the room to get a drink, I bumped into Kicho.

Kicho: "You're still awake?"

Mai: "I just finished working on my designs."

Mai: "More importantly, were you going somewhere dressed like that?"

Kicho: "Yeah. I had some missing materials, so I just came to get them."

Mai: "I see."

(Which means he's still working.)

(I shouldn't hold him back here for too long.)

I felt so happy to see him that I could hardly walk away from the place.

Kicho: "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Mai: "Huh?"

Kicho: "Lately, you've been spending a lot of time in your room. I know you're busy with work, but don't push yourself too hard."

Kicho: "If it's just stitching, I'm sure we can get someone else to do it."

Kicho: "If you want, I can arrange for a few seamstresses."

Mai: "No, I'm fine. Thanks, anyway."

(I didn't realize I was spending that much time in my room.)

(He really looks out for me, even though he's busy himself.)

Mai: "Um, Kicho?"

Kicho: "What is it?"

Mai: "If I can help, please let me know."

Mai: "I'm your former secretary, so please don't hesitate to ask me, your lover, for help."

Kicho: "Mai."

(I want to take care of him the way he takes care of me.)

(I want him to think I'm the best partner for him.)

Kicho: "Thank you, but I'll just take that feeling for now."

Fuku: "Kicho!"

Mai: "----!"

Interrupting our conversation, Fuku flew in, flapping her wings, and landed on Kicho's shoulders.

Kicho: "Fuku."

Mai: "Sorry, we were in the same room."

(I probably forgot to close the door, so she got out.)

Mai: "Fuku, come here. Let's go back to my room."

Fuku: "..........."

Mai: "Fuku?"

Fuku: "Kicho."

Kicho: "Kicho?"

Fuku: "Cool! Love him to death!"

Fuku: "Kicho!"

Mai: "F-F-Fu-Fuku!?"

The words Fuku said to Kicho were the words I had recently told her.

(She learned it so well.)

(It's amazing, but now's not the time to show it off!)

Kicho: "Mai?"

Mai: "Y-Yeah. Um..."

Mai: "Can you pretend you didn't hear that?"

Kicho: "Does that mean you don't want me to hear it?"

Mai: "..........."

Flustered, he stroked my cheek and looked between Fuku, who was still repeating the words she had learned, and me.

Kicho: "Looks like you've been a pretty good teacher."

(He totally gets it.)

Mai: “Um, no, that’s not what this is...”

Kicho: “No need to pretend you don’t know, and no need for excuses.”

Kicho smiled more happily than usual and stroked Fuku’s little head.

Kicho: “I thought you’ve been spending a lot of time in your room lately, but you’ve been using Fuku as your companion.”

Kicho: “You probably didn’t expect to see her show off this in front of me.”

Kicho: “I guess you could call this a selection error, or maybe a bird selection error.”

Mai: “Ugh...”

Fuku: “I love Kicho.”

Kicho: “I see. You’ve learned a lot. But it’s already late. It’s time for you to get some rest.”

Kicho: “Mai, I'll put her in your room.”

Mai: “Okay.”

Opening the door, he glanced at me and moved Fuku into his hand.

Kicho: "I'll put her back in the birdcage. You go to my room first."

Mai: "Okay."

After a few minutes of waiting, he came back.

Kicho: "Now, let's continue where we left off."

Kicho: "If you really love me that much, I'll listen to you as much as you want."

Mai: "What!?"

Kicho: "You're the right person for the job. If it's me, I won't have to tell anyone else about it."

Kicho: "Plus, it's only natural that you want to help someone you love to death."

Mai: "Please forget about that one."

Kicho: "How could I forget about it after hearing all those cute words?"

Kicho: "If you don't want those cheeks to blush even more, just be honest about it."

Mai: "Ah..."

Smiling happily, he put his hands around my waist and kissed my forehead.

Kicho: "I want more than anything to pour all these feelings I have for you."

Kicho: "Mai."

He looked straight at me and called my name in a seductive voice, and just like that, the feelings from him flowed into me in a rush.

(I'm all messed up.)

(I'm so deeply loved that I can't do anything about it.)

My heart was screaming that I was at my limit, but that scream was quickly replaced by a flutter of excitement and euphoria.

Shaking my head was no longer an option.

Mai: “Then I’ll take it all in.”

Kicho: “Of course.”

He kissed me hungrily after replying.

This time, our sweet time has started without being lured into a dream.

Previous Part╏Masterlist╏Romantic

[occasional-pyrrhon]

I need to know your most unhinged headcanons about Pyrrhon. Idk if you already have a post like this, but I need to know.

YAY YAY YAY OK. OK EVERY THING I'VE EVER THOUGHT ABOUT HTIS GUY LET'S GO. MILLION PAGE LONG POST UNDER THE CUT

OK so what is this thang in the first place right. I think he's an alien. HEAR ME OUT GUYS HEAR ME OUT. So space seems really weird and vaguely eldritch in the worldbuilding right, the Kraken and the Pirates' appearances being robotic along with the Aurum, who apparently just Happened one day. I think he also Happened one day and just crashed landed onto earth meteor style, either coming from the sun itself or being the Aurum's flawed attempt at mimicking a god that got too out of control and developed free will. I mean he has bright green eyes and looks nothing like the other gods. Even HADES wears CLOTHES man. Fitting with space being mostly outside the domain of the gods, this weird little mini sun man was able to claim the Sun God title because no one else was using it, which is why the gods themselves are torn on if he's one of them. He isn't immortal but he does age slower than normal, he's a fairly recent annoyance among all the divine discourse

Him and Arlon are brothers! Sorta. They met as kids without any apparent families and Pyrrhon theorizes that they're connected, which Arlon goes along with. So they kinda *become* brothers in a way with my headcanons? Ja. They start out being kinda frenemies who don't really get along and are just sticking with this theory to figure out their pasts but they end up truly having the brothers relationships and being at eachothers' backs. Everyone else is shocked to learn about this every single time since they're such opposites. Arlon lends stability and Pyrrhon lends freedom and encourages leniency towards the whole "loyalty" thing, which evidently means less to him. 😌

The other popular headcanon I like is that his flame aura is controlled by his emotions. He can make it flare up for dramatic effect or cool it down if he needs to, but it's typically involuntary. It's usually not harmful to people, though he can easily burn things if he isn't paying attention and he's always warm to the touch. If he's calm it simmers down. If he's really, truly upset or hopeless it goes out. If he's excited or angry it burns brighter. If it turns white hot and hurts to the touch, you should probably run. :)

He's trans. "How is he 7ft tall?" Divine HRT will do that to you. "Out of everyone in the cast who would be way more fitting-" I like him. "Wasn't there something in smash about the gods' physical forms-" I do what I want always all the time forever.

OKAY so it's tough sometimes with characters who are intended to be insane with no further context because on the one hand that can be kinda fucked but on the other hand OUHHHHH. crazy guy who loses control to the orb was such a weird adhd awakening for me but baby if it wasn't an awakening. SO putting aside that it's obviously exaggerated and he was probably just intended to be insane with no nuance, I headcanon him as autistic and adhd with probably an array of Other Shit going on that I'm not qualified to pin down without feeling like it may be insulting. my mental illness pilled folks give your takes below or don't if you're uncomfortable with attatching stuff to characters like this because that's very justified I just hyperfixate on and relate to the worst specimens possible o7 you would not believe how many ocs I have that are just "let's do this bitch again and deconstruct all the dehumanization these guys always get while we're at it" follow my main artblog with my ocs plug plug plug plug

I think he would hate Hades as the apex of the irresponsibility and evil of the gods. HOWEVER Pyrrhon x Hades is just inherently super funny to me so its tough I kinda need to reconsile them. MY HEADCANON is that they dated for a bit when Pyrrhon didn't have a vendetta against the gods yet and was going after cred then when Palutena and Medusa yuri-divorced Hades felt the urge to one-up Medusa in some way so he ended things with Pyrrhon by saying he's homophobic. This in turn put Pyrrhon on a brief stint of homophobia that he thankfully recovered from when he started to listen to Limp Bizkit (unironically in every way of course) and decided that Fred Durst is the most beautiful man on the planet. Or will be. Kid Icarus ancient Greece with Nintendo you know how it is.

I'm growling and pacing ominously with a shadow over my eyes all the time over his underdeveloped motivations BUT from what we're given of his respect for Pit and his vendetta against the gods along with the heroic act I feel like he's kinda with Dark Pit on the idea of the gods constantly throwing everything off balance BUT the critical difference that turns him into a villain is that he thinks that if a true hero like HIM were the most powerful god he could fix all of this! See see HIS indulgence in the violence and warring is justified he doesn't WANNA incinerate the angel but it's just for the greater good. Fool tried to end the cycle of violence by becoming part of it!!!!!!! Everyone point and laugh!!!!!!!!

He's smart but he's also a dumbass but he can actually be a genius under the right circumstances but he's so so stupid. Right. He would put together a computer on his own from nothing but Vibes then think YouTube is a platform exclusively for fnaf letsplays because its the first thing he clicked on and he doesn't know how to search. He can determine his location by looking at the stars he also got lost in the department store yesterday. He can tell you about the Aurum for two hours he doesn't remember what he ate for lunch yesterday so he answers with som shit like the essence of heroism in the sandwich of destiny. He's so me he's all of us in a way .

He has mild psychic powers and he is NOT good at them 💔 he taught himself short range telepathy hence why he only really talks to the others in person until he gets his power up. He also tried to learn how to give visions and prophecies recieved upon touching his gem but it kinda just traps you in his adhd mindzone where he tries to keep up the illusion with cardboard cutouts on sticks.

Okay post canon time! Horray!!!!! The shorter more hyperspecific headcanons are after this. Tw for trauma and parallels to abuse until this section is done we're in projecting lane now.

A lot of details of what happens to him post-Aurum vary depending on what I'm drawing/writing at the moment like if he gets out on his own or has to be rescued after the war with Hades resolves, but generally he's trapped with them for a while with wavering control over himself. He develops an intense phobia of space and the Aurum afterwards despite them once being his biggest interests (<- PROJECTING.) His sense of personhood is very disrupted - he wasn't just controlled, he was assimilated and became one in the same with them with only shards of him holding on and resisting. He goes between never wanting to encounter them again to being nothing but a vessel who *must* return to them again no matter what it does to him, and he doesn't remember how to be a person without them controlling him. He completely stops believing he's a god in any way. He often zones out with the instinct that something else will be at the wheel until someone snaps at him and he's like huh wuzzat. Then probably plays it off as being inconsiderate since what people expect of him is easier than the truth.

He has the belief that the Aurum are attempting to take him again, even if they end up destroyed they're too powerful to him now to end that easily. They're *all* and they're *everywhere*. Since a lot of ptsd symptoms can feel like losing control it compounds quickly.

He has a habit of covering his mouth when he's upset. The feeling of those words and that smile stick with him.

I also think he'd have pretty messed up misconceptions towards "redeeming himself". With his broken identity he clings onto the idea of being fearless and acting the same way he used to, otherwise they "won". He would do stuff like accompanying Pit on a space mission and acting like it's no sweat while intermittently sneaking off to hide the breakdown. Why should he be afraid? It was *his* fault after all, and if he can't stop himself from being hurt it's just going to be *his* problem.

He starts wearing clothes to hide the scars he recieved on his chest, back, and limbs. He wants to look like NOTHING has changed, as much as possible. He starts returning to his old Nothingcore fit the more he heals from the events, because he doesn't like the feeling of clothes in the first place. he wears fingerless gloves and leg warmers because he can't stand the alternatives to either.

He also has a cane that's supposed to look enough like a staff to pass as one. His legs have been Pixels for the past couple years ok. Either way he's insecure about it and mostly uses it private, once again passing off his troubles in the department as his typical cringefail self don't worry about it 😁 👍

There's some mechanical alterations inside of him and like. I don't know how to explain my vision here except imagine the junji ito stuff turning into spirals story but with math and geometry and such. You can plug a bluetooth chip into his back scar and he's a literal wifi hotspot now. The quadratic formula is hidden somewhere in his femur as a fun easter egg. A lot of the changes are good for an impromptu living weapon but not for that weapon having an easy time afterwards, but it takes a while for him to reach out for help there, not just because of all previously mentioned but because he *hates* the idea of something going in and making "edits" to him again.

There's some more literal lingering effects from the Aurum - he can understand Morse code and binary and is compelled to read it out and translate it whenever he sees it, and sometimes those are the forms of communication that remain when the others go down, along with general detached computer speak. He *really* doesn't like others seeing this -- I like the idea of Arlon or Palutena teaching him signing to use in moments like this.

He is so touch starved my god. He probably wasn't getting much affection pre-canon in the first place but after being in space for 3+ years in a place where anything organic for miles is destroyed on sight, his body not being his own, and then going on to hide it all? Someone lays a hand on his shoulder and he just *melts*. He already feels like the affectionate back-breaking bear hug type in my mind so it's just. Auougghhhhhhhhhh. Yeah.

Okay back to the less intense headcanons. All the main ones were at the top these are just little ideas or like stupid stuff.

NO ONE IS HANDING HIM THE AUX CORD. EVER. His top artist on Spotify is Smosh. He listens to Lil Dicky and Your Favorite Martian. When it's a date and he needs to put on the more acceptable by society stuff he puts on ABBA and the Niel Ciceriga mashup albums. The ladder is most of his exposure to the wider music world he was BAFFLED when he found out hendrix wasn't actually singing about furries. I also think it would be really fucking funny if his main playlist with 2010 YouTuber Core has like Kid A interspersed in there. Thom York and the party rock guys are on the exact same artistic pedestal to him (you can decide if he's a real one for that)

He would NOT BE A MYSOGINIST. NO ONE GETS MY GUY. He's the most cringefail feminist on earth he was at the women's march tripping over the asphalt and face planting 30 times and when it was over they had to pick him up with a dustpan. HER PRONOUNS ARE THEY/THEM !!!

He figured all the fnaf lore out on his own but none of the gods gave a shit so he used the peak of his power to bestow maddening visions upon Markiplier's 20th removed great Greek ancestor. Hades did the same thing to MatPat's 20th removed great Greek ancestor just to muddy the waters and spite his ex

His favorite animals are snakes, cats, and dragons. When the others find out about him Going Through It post canon, Viridi begrudgingly makes immortal replicas of a snake and cat as gifts to him for emotional support

He would use his divine resilience to go out and hug poisonous creatures and beasts because he can

He would get so upset by like made up cartoon insults like in worlds where everyone's a dragon and they call eachother a pink-tailed coward and that kind of stuff right. If he got teleported into the geronimo stilton book universe and another mouse called him a chedderface he would have to be HOSPITALIZED.

He doesn't curse a lot and only does it under very specific circumstances that tick him off like if you called spongebob annoying he would curse you out

Talks to himself alone in rooms constantly. Has ytp verbal stims.

Has a thumbtack and string board not for like anything in specific its kinda just his replacement for a journal but for a guy who tries to find the connection between the weird waiter he met at girls' night to the Aliens

I have a genre of guys I call Stray Dog Youth who are just people I think would evoke a heroic pity response from him and the urge to take them under his wing and raise them into defenders of justice. Pit. Chicken Little. Fluttershy. Shadow the Hedgehog. Timmy Turner. Gohan. Malcom in the middle maybe I never watched it. But do you see my vision here. He respects this genre of person more than any god ever

STIM LORE 🔥 fist bumps, flying around in circles, saying him catchphrases and doing him poses, playing with fire in his hands and swirling it around. He's a hup and huh and woop and oops and wup kind of guy. Sometimes he yells CHOCOLATE STARFISH!!! to himself in fred durst impression.

He polishes his forehead gem a lot to be as striking and shiny as possible

His hair starts to turn ashy at the tips and hang down when it grows longer

He respects human life more than the average god. Protecting the earth is his ultimate goal but he'll justify many questionable sacrifices to achieve that

Panromantic Asexual 💪 he does not care about flirting or sex there are horrors to quell citizen. I mean even if he wanted to he couldn't so.

Oh yeah he uses citizens generally when talking about humanity and such, but citizen turns into a nickname for Pit in particular as a sign of respect.

He gives Pit exposure therapy training after returning to earth and learning about his pyrophobia. He also has talks with Palutena, one of the first gods he develops some respect towards and one of the first people to accept him back in, since they relate to eachother over the Chaos Kin incident.

He doesn't have a real temple and he's mostly a drifter, but he did set up shop at an abandoned human temple in the middle of nowhere. WORST crib imaginable. courage the cowardly dog style PC setup. Light up gaming in progress sign. Q-bert funko pop displayed like a treasured collectable.

He would be OBSESSED with old low budget sci-fi movies and similar genres of b-movies. He thinks The Amazing Bulk is the best movie ever made ever

He would be really good at games where the rules are just entirely decided by vibes and such he can understand them thoroughly. That one video of the guys using toy phones and xylophones like a card game with gamer rage mannerisms. Calvinball. Etc.

He can go a while without sleep. When he needs to he lays back in the sky and sleeps among the stars. This has led to many flock of owls attacks followed by meteor crash landing into a god's back lawn.

THAT'S ALL I CAN THINK OF FOR NOW but yeah those are the big ones 💞 thank you for opening the gates for me to be insanecrazy about my specialist guy on the planet 😁

[prayerith]

honestly the cruelest moment in rebirth imo wasn’t what you’d expect (ff7 rebirth spoilers to follow, also this turned into like. more of an essay than i thought so sorry about that.)

you’d think it would be aerith dying despite cloud stopping sephiroth’s blade. and yeah that made me sob like a baby. but the cruelest moment? to me? that was what i am calling The Date of Futility and Disempowerment

in hbomberguy’s video essay “Pathologic Is Genius, And Here’s Why”, he discusses the way pathologic makes the player feel helpless and like nothing they do matters. this is contrary to many video games, which are intended to be power fantasies for the player. pathologic communicates this through its almost useless combat, scarce resources, and the dark and dreary atmosphere. hbomberguy’s video is linked here, but knowing the type of “audience” i have, you’ve already seen it. feel free to watch it again!

“but tumblr user millenniumpuzzle!” you might say. “final fantasy 7 rebirth is very much a power fantasy! at a certain point, your party can one shot most enemies!” yes! that is true. while pathologic is a survival horror, ff7 rebirth is a reimagining of a classic jrpg. you level up, get new abilities, and can eventually deal massive damage to any foe. but i’m not talking about the whole game! i’m talking about one scene.

i am co-opting the phrase hbomberguy uses to begin part 2 of his video essay, “futility and disempowerment,” to refer to the beginning of chapter 14 in final fantasy 7: rebirth. specifically, the scene where cloud wakes up in an alternate reality and goes on a date with aerith while the world ends.

in that scene, aerith takes cloud by the hand through the sector 5 slums and they meet several shopkeepers. cloud is then given the choice to choose things for aerith and himself, out of a specified list. however no matter what item you choose, even if you agonize over it, the shopkeeper says “oh i’m sorry, you can’t actually do that” and gives you a fourth item that was not on the list to begin with.

for the photographer, he’s taking pictures of couples, and you can choose which pose to have the photographer shoot you and aerith in. but, again, the prize goes to someone else no matter what you do. when cloud asks why he and aerith weren’t chosen, the photographer says, “you don’t look like you’re on a date…more like at a funeral.” aerith strongly protests this, but the meaning of all these scenes is clear.

the game is telling you that even if you have free choice, even if you can make decisions, they don’t ultimately matter. “all roads lead toward the same blocked intersection” (sax rohmer #1, the mountain goats). you might think you can save aerith. the game may have even given you that impression up to that point. but it’s no use.

and that’s just horrible! it’s horrible that we have to show this to cloud, and he has no idea what it all means. the dramatic irony. it’s just the worst

anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk