#and I HATE sequels with a burning passion

[l0ganberry]

I personally don't like Disney (for numerous of reasons) but this.....

I can tolerate

[yashahimewasamistake]

Yashahime is the only anime which has retroactively made me recoil from anything Rumiko.

I haven't rewatched any of her series, I have more or less managed to stay away from the OSTs and abandon any fic based on her series I was either reading or working on.

Anyone else?

[domesticated-dragon]

If they make a Barbie 2, they should cast Cillian Murphy as Blaine, who was Barbie's boyfriend from 2004 to 2006.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Our Little Dance" - BurningCheese Short #7

THE SEQUEL TO "Mine Forever More" IS HERE! After I went through the story in episode 6 a couple more times to help visualize things and NOT just to watch Burning Spice openly obsess over Golden Cheese over and over again I swear, I was finally struck with inspiration. Thought about some concepts during work, fleshed them out more when I came home, finally reached a coherent game plan, and here we are. I really hope you all enjoy it!

WARNING PART 2: Again, this is one-sided BurningCheese/GoldenSpice. This is Yandere Spice, not Flirty Asshole Spice. This Spice doesn't deserve Golden Cheese, he deserves a restraining order, or a spot on a registry, or to outright face the fucking wall. He is worse in this part than the last. Go read something else if you're not comfortable with that (and/or if you're a minor).

He knew she wouldn't disappoint him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Burning Spice never cared for dancing. Those few times he allowed himself to be dragged over to that happy, energetic crowd, in those long-gone days of his heroic youth, he always found himself regretting it. Slow, hunched steps so as not to accidentally stomp on the child's feet, as he was so much bigger and stronger than they were. Awkward mimicry of the group circling him, cheering each other on as they carried out traditional performances (he didn't join them on that, of course, the dance itself was tedious enough). Averted - rolled, if he was annoyed enough - eyes and polite disinterest for the red-faced girl who tripped over herself just asking for his hand (she seemed too starstruck to notice he danced with her out of obligation and nothing else).

He remembers people trying to change his mind on the matter. Dancing was not so different from fighting, they said. They had the same flow, the same energy, if one did them right.

What a bold-faced, silly little lie. Dancing only got worse each time he engaged in it. It was annoying. It was all fake. It was boring. Like everything else turned out to be.

He hated those people. He hated festivals. He hated the pitiful civilizations that conjured them. He hated peace and merriment. He hated history. He hated change. He hated life. He hated dancing.

...Or he did, once. He used to. He sees the error of his ways now.

It turns out that what he'd needed all along was the right dance partner.

And she was exactly that, and so much more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Their first dance was too short. Their shared passion burned bright, but fizzled out quickly. She'd missed an important step. Stumbled. Fallen.

It was alright. He was angry in the moment, and he told her so. He punished her for her mistake, for her weakness - just as she deserved. They had both waited far too long for this for her to go on and screw it up.

But it was alright. Really. She was still here; she was still breathing; he could still her heart beating in her chest. So long as these were true, then it would be alright. She would collect herself. She would rise, strong and proud, shaking off all of the dirt and blood. She would return to him. To his embrace. They would dance again, better than before. He would give himself to her in his entirety, as he'd planned to. And she would do the same.

His usual lack of patience got the better of him, if only for a moment, as he tucked her into her prison cell. But how could he be blamed? She was simply too beautiful. She looked too perfect there, nestled into his arms, her head still resting against his chest. He'd told her that the kiss was payment for him allowing her lackey to live - and that was true, it really was. He'd wanted that man dead the very second he came into Burning Spice's line of sight. He was too close to her, in either sense of the word, and Burning Spice simply would not have it. It simply wouldn't do. This error shall be corrected soon enough - with extreme, ever-mounting prejudice, the longer the man spent anywhere near Burning Spice's beloved.

But really, more than that, he just wanted to taste her. He simply couldn't bear not doing so anymore. The faint shimmer of her golden hair in the pale light shining down from the ceiling, those rogue strands still framing her face so prettily despite being otherwise ruined, the feeling of her skin against his, that sweet mouth set in such a dazzling frown, that glint of furious determination in her eyes - it was all too much. It was her own fault, really. She made it too hard to say no.

Fuck, she tasted good. So, so good. Sweet, but tangy, and oh so rich. All mixed together into one flavor that he could only describe as her. As Golden Cheese. And fuck, he was already hooked. Addicted to the feeling of her soft lips on his own. Addicted to the feeling of his tongue caressing hers. Addicted to the feeling of her breath mixing with his. He needed more. He'd die without it. He'd die without her.

She would give him more, he knew. She had to. They had so much lost time to make up for already. A bit of time recovering in peace and quiet (ugh), and she'll be alright again. She'll come back to him. And he'll give her many, many more long-awaited kisses.

Their dance wasn't over yet.

She won't disappoint him. She can't.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Yes... Yes, this was what he wanted. Exactly what he wanted. She knew him far too well. Better than anyone ever had.

She escaped. With her lackey, unfortunately - but oh well, they can deal with that later. What mattered now was her taking this next step. Taking the lead in their special dance. So bold, so forward. He loved it. He loved her.

She led him through the halls of his temple; had him weave between the columns, hurry past faded murals depicting his former greatness. He chased her every which way, drank in her lingering scent with relish. Perhaps he should have let her take the lead sooner; this was SO much fun. He was having far too much fun following in her steps. Only she would have the cleverness and creativity to also make their dance a game. To add in all of those aspects of a thrilling hunt that he so adored into their little performance. Yes, he loved this. He adored it.

Honestly, where has she been all his life?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When their dance hit that fever pitch once again, he half expected his heart to burst from his chest out of sheer euphoria. Dragging one another through the temple a second time, all of those worthless walls and pillars and decorations getting caught in their beautiful maelstrom. Such delightful devastation, brought about by her. By his love for her. By them and their union. By this perfect little dance of theirs.

In his manic glee, he let his mask fall, if only slightly. Now wasn't the right time, he would pour his dark, aching heart out to her only when he knew that right time had come - but oh God, she knew exactly what to say to him and how, and how to bring out both the best and worst in him all at once. He would taunt her, mock her, and she would meet his sneering with her own sarcastic indignation. This bickering, this bantering - so, so much fun. SHE was so much fun.

She teased him, too, much to his heightened joy. "The world? I do not care for the world! Nor do I wish to protect it! Or to be called a hero!" A bold yet terrible liar, she was, after she ruined their first dance for the sake of that child. She was truly beautiful, inside and out; at her core shone the bright and pure soul of a hero. And yet, she denied it. It was funny. It was cute. She was so cute.

"I am the Radiant Deity of the Golden City! I fight only to protect my treasures. And I will NOT let the likes of you harm what is mine!" Oh, she truly was so adorable. Prized possessions were just what he loved to destroy most. And he HATED how much these things meant to her: her land, her palace, her gold and jewels, her subjects. He hated them so much, that he let his mask slip: he confessed that, when their dance was over, he planned to go and destroy it all. Everything she ever held dear, wiped off the face of the earth. She didn't need any of it, anyway. He realized long ago that nothing truly matters - nothing except for them, of course - and she would come to realize it, too. He would make sure of it.

Nothing mattered to him except for her. Nothing shall matter to her except for him. They shall keep on dancing forever, even as the world crumbled to dust around them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He began losing his patience near the end. Still more her fault than his. She got to him too much. Too badly.

Some of the weight behind his axe vanished, for he began to favor his own hands instead of it. The axe carved her open, drew her blood, had her dancing so erratically, so desperate to evade its brutal swing - and he enjoyed that. But he enjoyed touching her even more. When he got close enough - and he did everything in his power to get close enough, even for just a second - he would catch her off guard by striking her with his fists instead. He just... he NEEDED to touch her. The itch only got more unbearable as they danced on. Just one split second of his hands on her body, that's all. Even in the form of bloodied knuckles leaving deep bruises on her stomach, or knocking the wind out of her lungs. That's all he wanted. Was that so wrong?

If she noticed this, she made no sign of it. With the way she acted, it was fair to assume she no longer noticed much of anything. She was weakening again; though their dance continued on, though that fire still consumed them, it seemed now that she was being overwhelmed. She was starting to stumble again. She missed a step or two. Had him pick up the slack. It was unfortunate, but still fun, still amusing - he was too far gone to really be upset that this was happening again, to be honest. The spices in the air, the smell of her blood, the sound of her cries and labored breathing... too much. All too much. He was losing his damn mind, and it was exquisite.

But... oh, Golden Cheese, his little bird, with her tenacity and her endless surprises. Even as he took charge of their dance again, she found another way to get to him. To crawl beneath his skin and eat him alive from the inside out.

Her tongue - that sweet, soft, delicious, clever, beautiful tongue - became a poisonous barb, as sharp and painful as the tip of the golden spear that tried (and often succeeded, to her credit) to impale him everywhere she could reach. She attacked not only his body now, but his character, his spirit. She called him a failure. Declared that he had never been a hero nor a god, and never deserved to have been called either. She accused him of self-serving cowardice, of wanting desperately to hide his own shortcomings underneath all of that rubble and all of those mutilated corpses. All with that smug, little upturn of the corners of her lips, and a tiny but bright glint in her eye.

Yes... she knew him too well. She knew how to reach into his heart and twist it. She blinded him with love, then rage, then love again. Invigorating fury. Delectable pain.

And he would inflict this same pain on her tenfold, as punishment for her insults, and encouragement for her to say them to him all over again. For Burning Spice loved and worshipped Golden Cheese, poisonous barbs and all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She fell again. Their little dance came to an end. There she was now, on her knees, her head bowed, soaked in blood. THEIR blood, mixed together. For a brief moment, she had turned him into an artist; in turn, he used her as his canvas.

Just what would it take for her to stop being so damn beautiful, he wondered?

"You said I failed? Hahaha..."

Come, now. He couldn't help himself. Their dance had been so much fun; now he was just riding out the rest of his high. And he wanted her with him, doing the same.

"My... greed... never..."

Still fighting, even now. Even with so many shattered, aching bones. Even with her spear all but snapped in half, rendered practically useless. Her voice sounded tired, broken like the rest of her. But she still feigned strength and poise the best she could. A proud warrior to the very end. Lovely. He would never have accepted anything less.

His mouth contorted into a smile of bitter amusement. "Warlords, heroes, villains and kings... I've seen all of them in my time." She had seen fit to give him a scathing lecture before. Why can't he do the same to her here and now? "They all tried to avert their doom, and like one another, they all perished."

No response. Rude... but understandable. It was fine, regardless. Her silence was answer enough.

"You, on the other hand..." He knelt before her, leaning down and resting his forehead against hers. Her skin felt hot and sticky, those tufts of fluffy hair brushing against him damp with blood and sweat. "Forgotten by history itself, and yet you still persist."

He cupped her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look him in the eye. Gone was that bitterness, no longer was he amused. Now his smile was a manic grin that all but split his face wide open, outshined only by the fire in his eyes. His mask had fallen off completely.

"I fucking love it," he told her.

And then he kissed her again, because he had to. Because he couldn't handle not doing so anymore. Their kiss - his kiss - was starved, desperate, sharp teeth and a hot tongue licking and biting at her lips, that same tongue forcing its way into her mouth and eagerly dominating her own. He finally let his hands roam, more than he'd been able to before, and he lost himself in her touch, in the soft, flawless skin of her arms and legs and stomach - every place she, through her chosen attire, had so graciously left exposed to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, pressing it into her back - right where her wings used to be. She winced; he hugged her tighter. She grunted in pain, he moaned in delirious pleasure, all but drowning her out. He couldn't take it. Just- just couldn't take it anymore. She was just so perfect. So delicious. She danced so beautifully. She drove him mad. He loved it. He fucking loved it.

Their dance was over, but it was fine. It was alright. It had been fantastic, better than he'd hoped. Another devastating loss to her name, worse than the last - but that was how their dance was supposed to go, anyway. It was alright. She's fine, she'll be fine. He won't allow her not to be, because she needed to get back up and dance with him again, and again, and again, and again and again and again and again and again-

"Master!"

His eyes shot open, and he froze mid-lick, still feeling the erratic pulsing of her jugular vein against his tongue (he had briefly abandoned her lips in favor of her neck, showering it with searing, ravenous affection). Slowly, regretfully, he pulled away, releasing Golden Cheese from his grasp and rising to his feet. Back came that old bitterness - pure and true this time, pulling his lips back into a furious snarl and replacing the burning desire in his eyes with boiling hatred.

Nutmeg Tiger bounded into the room and knelt (collapsed, really) at his feet, exhaustion written all over her features but offering him a dutiful smile nevertheless. "Heh... I'm glad to see you... pleased... Great One."

Pleased? She thought he was pleased? He had been relishing his ultimate victory, in this little dance he had with his little bird, finally holding her in his arms again and touching and tasting her... and this- this miserable wretch barges in and interrupts them, and she thought he was PLEASED?

"You! Where have you been?" he spat at her. "You seem even more pathetic than usual."

So pathetic was she, apparently, that she failed to notice his clear outrage at her presence and actually responded. "I merely... took care of that... lackey of hers."

Another fatal mistake. HE had wanted to be the one to "take care of that lackey of hers". He'd wanted to strangle him with his own entrails and gloat that Golden Cheese was HIS AND HIS ALONE as he watched the light in that worm's eyes dim. But no. Nutmeg Tiger robs him of joy and satisfaction yet again.

She kept talking. This weak, mindless, PATHETIC creature kept talking at him. Something or another about the lackey revealing information about Golden Cheese's subjects, and how she'd convinced some Spices to desert. For Golden Cheese's sake - and perhaps to sprinkle a bit of salt into her wounds - he feigned surprise and interest, and laughed in her face when Nutmeg Tiger was finished. He knew all of this already. He knew his little bird inside and out, thanks to the Soul Jams. But playing pretend for a little while wouldn't hurt, would it?

"How does it feel?" he asked her, after he'd indulged in his fair share of cruel mockery. "How does it feel to lose everything?"

Nothing but the sight and sound of her clutching at the ground, trembling fingers raking through the dirt.

"But I must give credit where it's due," he laughed. Perhaps a bit of honest encouragement would rouse her. "After all, it's thanks to you that I realized I had to get my Soul Jam back."

She'd done far more for him - to him - than just that, of course. More than mere words could express. But that was what their dance had been for, wasn't it? That's what all of their dances will be for.

He reached down and grabbed her chin again. "Look me in the eye, Golden Cheese," he said. "I wish to see your face when I kill you."

He won't kill her. He can't. Her death would only result in his own, out of grief and boredom. He will pretend to kill her, then steal her away when neither this brainwashed fool nor anyone else was watching. He'll take her to his palace, to his bedroom. He'll clean her up, help her recover faster so they could dance again sooner. And while he waited, he would open up to her. Pour the whole rest of his heart out to her. Make her whine and beg to have his hands and mouth explore those parts of her that she still hid from him.

"I shall crush your greed, your treasures, your dough." He squeezed her face hard, digging his nails into her cheeks. "And, in the end, I shall take back my Soul Jam."

He knelt down before her one more time, low enough so his face was level with hers. "Don't worry. I always keep my promises..."

He thought he felt her head shift in his grasp... He thought he felt her eyes flicker towards him, if only for a moment, before falling to the ground once more. He promised to bring them back and never let them leave him again.

"All you ever held dear will be swallowed by the Tide of Change."

Everything. Her friends. Her subjects. Whatever still remained of her kingdom. The world itself. All of it. There shall be nothing left except for him, and all of those lonely, adoring, battle-crazed promises he's been silently making to her all the way until that very moment.

Above all else, he promised to keep dancing with her forever.

All he could do - all he's done, all this time - was hope she heard him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She... Golden Cheese, she...

...Oh. Oh, Golden Cheese. His gorgeous, powerful, radiant Golden Cheese...

She surprised him again. As she teetered at the edge of this great precipice, she regained her strength and clarity and saved herself. She broke free from his grasp. She rose to her feet and stood tall. Her voice rose with each word she spoke; words born from pain and sorrow, but overcome with righteous determination. And the Soul Jam - her Soul Jam - recognized this show of unwavering courage and returned to her without hesitation.

And she... then she...

She... changed. She changed form. Gone were those numerous deep wounds that carved and bled into each other. Gone was the blood, the sweat, the tears. A warm, shimmering light enveloped her, stripped her of all of her woes - and her old, tattered clothes - fuck, he'd been staring closely enough to realize that the light had temporarily stripped her bare and damn it, why wouldn't it let him see?! - and released her back into the world, born entirely anew. Dressed in the finest gold, the brightest blue, the- the red? There was red on her now? She donned his color? Just for his sake?

Oh, Golden Cheese, his beloved Golden Cheese... His delectable prey, his precious golden thief, his pretty little bird-

No. Not just a bird now. A phoenix. His stunning, courageous, radiant phoenix.

Yes, his beloved phoenix took him by surprise again and hurried him back to the dance floor... and he watched, not daring to blink even once, as she rose into the sky, eclipsing the sun itself with her mighty wings.

"Burning Spice," she called to him, "It seems the Tide of Change has turned in my favor."

Ohhhhhhhhh fuck, this perfect woman. Always knowing what to say to him and how. Never without her confidence, her pride, her shine. Her radiance.

"Hear my words. You chose to let go of everything you ever had. You do not deserve even the smallest smidgen of my treasures."

Oh, he was hearing her words, alright. He was etching them into the walls of his skull, pouring them onto his brain, forcing them to sink in as deep as possible. Letting the sound of her angelic voice nest in his ears and infect his mind, forcing all of his remaining thoughts out and taking their place like a greedy parasite.

But she was lying and teasing him again, pretty thing. He hasn't let go of everything. He was still clinging to his darling phoenix, desperate to keep her close. She was the only treasure of hers that he ever wanted. And the only thing that will make him let go is death itself.

Yet more glittering golden lights appeared all around her, alongside thickening clouds of earth and spice. From this divine storm came a cluster of spears, each one sharper and deadlier than the last.

The grin on his face ached terribly now, with how great and long-lasting it was.

"How can someone who has forsaken everything prevail over someone who has lost everything?"

Ah, but that wasn't true, either. She has him! She still has him and his love, their love. She still had their little dance; all of those little steps and bends and twirls, their boundless passion and energy, the electrifying touch of their skin and mingling of their breaths. And as he told her once before, he would gladly forsake everything for her. His temple, his possessions, his fellow Spices, EVERYTHING FOR HER AND ONLY HER!

"Remember this moment and taste the bitterness of regret..."

Regret? What regret? He wasn't capable of that anymore and he never would be again - not as long as she was there, taking the Sun's place as the source of light and warmth in his world.

"For you are about to face defeat from everything you have ever discarded!!!"

She dove straight towards him, volley after volley of spears raining down alongside her. His very own meteor shower, with the most captivating shooting star right at the center.

He leapt towards her, the strength of his leap leaving behind a crater where he once stood, wild, demonic cackling spilling from his mouth with abandon. Eyes locked onto one another's: brilliant, wrathful, glittering gold and smoldering, ecstatic, lovestruck red. Spear aimed right at his heart. Axe ready to swipe at her waist and cleave her in two.

She was offering him her hand, asking for his own in turn. She wanted to dance with him again. She missed being in his arms, and the two of them gliding across the floor together in perfect synchronicity. Their unrivaled harmony, the envy of all who witnessed it.

He shall take her hand. How could he not? He loved dancing with her far too much to do otherwise. He loves dancing now, and it's all her fault. She made it too hard to say no.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She did not disappoint him, and neither did the crushing weight of his entire temple bearing down on his back. How touching of her to leave him with such a gift, honestly.

Their last dance ended with a bang. With her staying true to her word and striking him down with all that he had discarded. And now there he lay, in the ruins of that place he and many others once cherished as a home and sanctuary.

He could hear a voice, somewhere at the edge of all the rubble. Nutmeg Tiger. If only he'd had the good sense to slaughter her like a pig like he ought to have ages ago. Now, as he shrugs the debris off of himself and regains his footing, he consoles himself with the idea that in the future, he can execute her right in front of his darling phoenix as a way to return her loving gesture. Yes, that sounds like a plan...

His muscles and bones screamed at him with every little movement he made, but he did not listen. Instead he shambled forward, out of reach of the temple ruins, that mewling, pathetic creature that called herself Nutmeg Tiger still buzzing around him like the insignificant little fly she was.

Clutching at the stab wound in his side (the one that was bleeding the most heavily, anyway), Burning Spice threw his eyes to the early morning sky. Their dance had lasted all the way until dawn... Beautiful.

A smile crept across his face, that eventually grew into a grin, that eventually fell open as deep, joyous laughter erupted from the pit of his stomach and out of his bloody mouth. Nutmeg Tiger started laughing too, but he didn't care about that. This moment was meant for him to savor all alone.

His dance with Golden Cheese had been everything he'd dreamed of and more... And he knew that their next dance would be just like it, for she never, ever disappointed him and never, ever will.

And there shall be many more dances. They shall take each other's hand and sway to their unique rhythm over and over again, until pain and exhaustion consumed them both, only to rise and take each other by the hand and dance another day.

Perhaps those fools from eons ago were right: dancing really is like fighting, if done right. And he and Golden Cheese did it exactly right.

Dancing was Burning Spice's favorite thing now, just as Golden Cheese was his favorite person.

He wanted to dance with her forever. Forever and ever and ever...

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

this was hard to write lol. I really, truly wasn't expecting people to want a sequel to MFM, so I had no plan ready (which is not like me as a writer at all, I am very much an "architect"/obsessive planner with my stories). I waited for episode 6 to drop for inspiration, and when I got it, I hit another roadblock in the form of me having TOO many ideas I wanted to work with. I thought of focusing on their moment right before GC awakens, but then I wanted to also do something with his confession to her (where he admits that he will gladly destroy his entire life to get to her), but then I also wanted to acknowledge his enjoyment of their game of hide-and-seek in the temple, but then but then but then lol. I eventually zeroed in on that scene where he called what they were doing a "dance", and realized that that was what captured my attention the most. The idea that he views their fight as a dance. So that's how I chose to frame his POV and the story as a whole. Like he thinks they're "dancing" together through the whole thing.

idk if I'm happy with the end result overall. I really wanted to do you all justice since you wanted a part 2 so bad. I can always go back and retool things/try to do a "version 2" with those other, smaller concepts as well. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed this. Thank you for caring enough to want to see more from me, sorry for the wait haha

And remember, Burning Spice canonically called her his "little bird" and "lovely" and that he was enjoying "their little dance", and he canonically admitted that he would destroy everything and everyone for her, and no one can ever take that away from us now :)

[mooncalfed]

show me what mercy feels like

As someone who struggles deeply with body image and self-talk, I wrote this to fulfil my longing to be seen and be treated with fierce love. Deeply inspired by the works of @kneelingshadowsalome​. Specifically “Love Is A Heavy Weapon��, her sequel to “Man-Sized”, and her recent drabble also dealing with body image.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x f!OC

Tags: Explicit sex, light LIGHT choking I guess, passionate sex, body image, mirror sex, tongue-licking, a smidge of knife-play, a waft of dom Simon

Trigger Warnings: OC is struggling with body dysmorphia/body image

She’s used to these feelings. They’ve come and gone intermittently through her life - beginning in teenagehood and lasting until now, so she’s become accustomed to the routine. Rumination, despair, rebirth. The endless cycle, never triggered by the same thing, never predictable.

This week is about the fourth or so day of these feelings. Her jeans feel different, her shirts and blouses feel different, and it’s not so disastrous as to enact any drastic change yet she feels burdened by the weight of the feelings and disheartened by the oncoming storm.

Loving herself has always been a conscious effort, and like most people there are dips and troughs as well as highs. Often the highs are brought with or by her lover, Simon. She was on her way to self-acceptance and self-compassion when he stepped into her life, and proceeded to shove her face-first into a sea of love and feeling so deep she felt like she had never been alive before him.

Simon loves her well, and she is sure of that.

But her feelings towards herself are distinct, and today she really can’t shake her sadness no matter how much she is in need of it.

This morning she stands a moment longer in front of the mirror, dismayed by what she sees. Her heart constricts when she thinks of the beautiful woman she walked by the evening before, resplendent in velvet and dripping contentment. She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye before it can fully form, and quickly looks away.

She opens the bathroom door and there is Simon, sitting on the side of the bed, knees parted widely and hands resting on his thick thighs. His dark, observant eyes are already watching her when she raises her eyes, and the moment their gazes meet she is undone.

Her eyebrows pinch as the hot sting of tears burns her eyes, and Simon sucks a deep breath in. He sits still, hands betraying tension in the fingers pressed firmly against his knees, and only releases his grip when she dives into his body.

She doesn’t really sob, but the ache is deep and well rooted in her soul.

“Talk to me.” Simon’s gravelly voice rumbles through her last defenses and she trembles slightly as a few tears slip down her face.

She presses herself harder into him, and he receives it all.

“I just-... I just can’t bear the way I look sometimes. I don’t like the way I look, I don’t understand the way I look, and I’m tired of fighting to keep positive about it.” She squeezes her eyes firmly shut as the exhaustion hits her.

“I don’t want to accept my body as it is. I don’t care about gratitude and compassion and all that stuff and yeah I know it’s right and good and all that stuff but I hate that I have to put the work in to like a body that doesn’t look good. I just hate it so much! I hate that I look like this.”

Her voice shakes terribly and her nose is clogged up with snot and emotion, but Simon is steadfast. This is what she loves about him - he asks for all that she thinks and is never critical of how cruel she can be.

“I don’t want other people to tell me I look good because I don’t believe them and I never have and I worry that I never will. I worry that people are lying when they say I look nice and I hate that I can never take a compliment and I hate that I’m too insecure to be gracious and above all I hate that I look like this!”

Simon readjusts his grip on her, one thick arm wrapped tightly around her torso and the other fiercely clutching her head to his chest.

“I don’t want to have to consider what colours suit me, what stupid body type I am, what glasses or haircut or– or– or what length my dresses should be. I just want to wear what other people wear and look like they do.”

She’s done, and she has a headache. She has aired her grievances and shown him her valley of sorrow, but in the wake feels defeated and tired.

Nevertheless, the cycle is familiar to her and she knows Simon will be there. He is her lighthouse when she is at sea.

She lifts her head from his neck and sees his shimmering, pained eyes staring back at her. Wordless and strong, he draws her into a kiss full of intent with his dry, warm palm resting firmly at the base of her throat.

“Go to work,” he murmurs, eyes tracing over the shape of her lips. She wills herself to stay still though she feels nude under his stare. “We will recalibrate tonight.”

She gives him a nod, throat still under loving hostage, and pulls away.

-

As she pulls open the front door and toes her shoes off, she meditates over how the day has gone. She had tried not to let her mood affect her work, but had nevertheless been more withdrawn than usual. She was grateful for having two excellent friends at work who knew her propensity for turning inwards and were kind and warm but not intrusive.

Padding steadily to the bedroom, she feels the familiar mix of nervousness and anticipation waiting for her.

“Recalibration” is to Simon a sort of potent mixture of sex and therapy. Every time she has a wobbly moment he takes her apart piece by piece and guides her into the recesses of feeling that she is afraid of. He shows her that they may be her demons but that they exist in a corner of fear and loneliness that he won’t let her get lost in.

Even so, even after all the times he has done this with her, she is afraid.

But she trusts him to guide her ahead with his sober seriousness and unflinching determination to love her.

She opens the bedroom door and there he is, sitting in the same position as this morning but facing the door.

She looks to the wall opposite their bed and sees that he’s moved the large gilded mirror that normally resides above their fireplace to rest against the wall. From the angle she’s at she can’t quite see the reflection, but knowing how directly she will see her nakedness sparks a kindling of stress in her.

“Come ‘ere.”

Simon beckons her with his hand and her feet move without her even knowing it.

He reaches for her once she is in his space and lifts her so that she is straddling his wide hips.

“Si–”

He hushes her with a squeeze of her thigh. “How do you tell me you’re okay?”

Her mouth dries and her underwear grows damp. “Two taps.”

“And your safeword?”

“Apple.”

Simon’s hand travels from her thigh to the crease where it meets her hip.

“Are you ready?”

She nods firmly, gaze still locked on him.

“Good girl. I love you.”

Her eyes prick with tears and the sight of her wet eyes, Simon’s own turn hard.

Her cunt clenches at the way he regards her now. Soft, sympathetic Simon is gone. This version of him is determined, relentless, and dominating.

“I’m going to take your clothes off,” he says, finally dropping his eyes to her chest where her nipples have pebbled to hard, sensitive points.

He releases her thigh and methodically unbuttons her blouse, taking it off and dropping it to the ground as his focus turns to her singlet. He draws a calloused finger along the line of her throat, traces the mole he loves to bite, and slowly drags it down to circle her right nipple.

She releases her breath - not having realised she was holding it - and watches the seriousness of his brow as he leans close and licks the light shape of her hard nipple over her bra and shirt.

At first he’s gentle, kissing it and licking it as though it were the first time, but then his arms are at her back and pushing her into him and all of a sudden he is biting ravenously at her nipple and wetting her tank top and holy fuck she can feel his saliva through the thick cotton of her bra.

Her heart is thundering at her chest and she desperately wants to feel his tongue on the skin of her breast, but the rule is that tonight is for Simon to enjoy her body so she allows it to continue, all the while aware of the growing warmth and wetness of her crotch.’

Pulling back ever so briefly, Simon is breathing hard and releases an arm from its grip around her to pull the strap off of her right shoulder and gently pulls her breast out. She looks down and he is staring right at her, staring staring staring as he takes her nipple between his teeth and rolls it.

She can’t help the whine that leaves her lips, and the moan that shatters the air when he pushes a small amount of spit just over her nipple and then closes his mouth over it and sucks.

Her cheeks are hot and her heart is pounding furiously and Simon still hasn’t broken his penetrating stare. He reaches for the other strap with his other hand and pulls it down and her left breast is engulfed by his hot hand and she begins to rock over his crotch as he continues with the agonisingly slow pace of his suckling.

She registers distantly that he is hard, but focuses on burning the image of him at her chest into her brain.

A moment passes, and Simon reaches behind him. She looks and he has a combat knife in his hand, and brings them to the front of her shirt. The cool blade glides lightly against her skin and they both watch in fascination as her skin erupts in goosebumps.

Hand confidently gripping the handle, Simon turns the blade to lie flat against her skin and slides it under her bra and the bunched up top. He pulls the knife towards his own chest, then turns the blade and slides it up and down only a few times until the material gives way and her chest is exposed and they can both watch her breasts move up and down from the thrill.

She complies as Simon peels the cut cloth from her body, lifting her arms obediently, then settles her hand in his thick, rough hair.

Simon lifts her slightly so that she is holding her own weight above him, and curves his right knuckle as though he is holding a pen. Then he presses his hand against her crotch, adds pressure and languidly strokes back and forth against her.

She leans forward to kiss him, but he pulls away with a grunt.

“Tongue out.”

She sticks it out, panting slowly but deeply. Simon’s eyes twinkle darkly as he leans forward to lick her tongue with his, and she just about ascends to heaven.

He brings her back down with a shockingly firm hand clutching her throat, and she blinks furiously at him, tongue still out and heart racing wildly.

Simon ignores her surprise and licks her tongue twice more before leaning in, enclosing his mouth over her tongue and sucking hard.

She squeals at the sensation and her thighs quiver dramatically.

He chuckles lowly and she is - for a brief moment - embarrassed, but is distracted by him unbuttoning her jeans.

“Take these off,” he says, “then get down in front of the mirror.”

She clumsily shuffles off his lap, looking longingly at the bulge in his pants, but obeys.

She wriggles out of her jeans and slides her underwear off, but stops short of turning to the mirror. Simon watches her carefully in the middle of taking off his own clothes, thick and scarred chest moving in motion with his breath. She stays facing him even as he takes his own trousers and pants off, his juicy cock bouncing, pink and wet.

“Love.”

Lowering her gaze, she turns to the mirror and kneels. She doesn’t want to see herself. Then, she leans forwards onto her hands and stares right at the rug under her palms. Seeing, but also not seeing the pattern she had chosen for their room.

Simon’s hands settle on her shoulders then bring her back to her knees and she meets his burning gaze in the mirror with difficulty.

His erection is pressing hotly against her back, but she’s not sure anymore whether the goosebumps are from arousal or discomfort. She stubbornly locks eyes with him and thinks, I don’t want to look at this.

Simon’s nostrils flare and there’s just a beat of silence before his big hands flex and then his right hand settles haphazardly over a breast and the other at her belly and then they both grab, hard.

The action takes her breath away and her eyes blow wide before he growls lowly, “I want to always be able to grab handfuls of you.”

With a firm knee he nudges hers apart and pushes his forwards until her crotch is sitting back against his thigh.

Like the good girl she is, she begins to rock, and Simon grunts approvingly. The hand at her belly relaxes, only to reposition slightly and grab her tummy again. The hand at her chest slides to pinch her nipple and yep she is definitely back at full arousal and can’t help the wail that leaves her when he yet again opens his mouth to let warm glob of spit drip down her chest.

He tucks his head into her neck and bites down firmly before using his hand to smear his spit along the skin of her breast.

“I want to always be able to bite you.”

She closes her eyes and lets out a sob of want.

He uses his hands to push her down harder against his knee. She tries desperately to angle her hips so that something will touch her clit, but he holds her steady. This is just the beginning.

“I want you sticky and wet and naked.”

He abruptly releases her and she lets out a sharp yelp and catches herself with her palms before she can face-plant. She finds him smirking at her in the mirror. Mouth twisted and teasing but eyes knowing and warm.

Back on your knees.

Behind her Simon pumps his pulsing cock with his right hand, reaching down slightly to collect her juices and then smearing the warm wetness over his cock and even down to his balls.

She lowers herself slightly by bending her elbows so she can watch the delicious scene. Her bear of a man. Palming himself over her spread legs. The thrill that she gets from watching him stare at her puffy and ripe cunt is the definition of addiction.

He leans forward slightly and guides the head to her opening, and she sighs in relief. Simon is silent, but the sweat beading at his forehead and the shine of his chest reveals the strain on him.

He pushes in slowly, drawing it out to the point where she wants to scream. She lets out a weak whine and rests her head on the ground.

“No.”

A hand fists her hair and pulls back on it. She gasps as her head is wrenched back so that she is once again staring at her own blown pupils, wet chest and red face.

“You’re gonna watch today,” Simon says, buried to the hilt but also totally still, “Don’t care if ya watch me or yourself, but don’t even fuckin’ think of taking those beautiful eyes off the mirror, ‘kay love?”

“Okay”, she chokes out.

“Mmph.”

Pleased, he pulls out slowly and then pushes back in.

She can feel his cock all the way up in her throat. Each measured thrust punches the breath from her lungs stops time for just a second before he grants her peace and pulls out.

But the pace he sets can’t be called peace at all. In fact, he isn’t even quicking at all.

“Si,” she says, fingertips turning white as she grips the carpet.

“Si,” she chants as he smiles and tightens his fist in her hair.

“Si,” she sobs as he runs a covetous hand down her sweaty back.

“Please…”

“Don’t think so,” he laughs, relishing in his power.

“Fuckin’ hell love,” he says, “wish you could see the view I’ve got ‘ere.”

She closes her eyes at the sweet torture just for a moment–

SMACK!

She shrieks and clenches down furiously on his hot cock.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet you’re creamin’ on me. Fuuuuuuck, darlin’.”

The tremor in her belly spreads to her thighs, and she can’t bear that he’s talking such sweet words when he won’t. let. her. come!

A dark chuckle bounces from Simon and reaches her burning ears. Her looks up wetly at her lover and cries quietly as he slips out from her completely.

Simon ignores her tears and pulls her torso up and against his chest. They’re breathing heavily and out of sync, and both of them are shaking slightly from the tension of a drawn-out fuck.

Simon then manoeuvres his right leg so that his foot is planted on the carpet and his knee is facing the mirror, then he drags her shaking right leg to drape over his and nestles her close to him. She can feel his pubic hair pressing against her ass and the right side of her body is slightly compacted by the position, but she knows this is going to be a delicious experience.

He wraps his left arm around her body and waits for her to dig her hands into his muscular forearm for support. It’s a challenging position as they’re both balancing their weight on their left sides, and he’s got her right leg propped up on his, but they both can’t resist watching the way it spreads her cunt wide open.

He especially eagerly watches the way her juices slide down her left thigh. He dips a hand to catch the drip and sucks loudly at his fingers.

“Put me in.” He commands.

She enthusiastically complies and he allows her to tilt forward slightly until he notches in at the right angle and slides smoothly into her tight cunt.

His right hand smooths lovingly over her thigh as his eyes bores into hers.

“Here we go love.” He warns, and then begins their carnal dance.

He pulls his fat cock from her walls and then generously shoves it back in, watching as her thighs flex and the cries begin yet again.

She is clawing at his forearm, unable to stop watching his beautiful manhood make use of her the only way she wants to be used.

Distantly she looks at the rolls of flesh on her right side and is momentarily distracted and disturbed by the observation, but, as astute as ever, Simon notices immediately and his lustful, loving monologue begins.

“Look at you, fuckin’ hating yourself like that.”

He slams his hips into her with extra frustration.

She weeps.

“This body was made to love like this, can’t you see?”

His right hand grazes over her clit and she yells out in pleasure and frustration when he moves away.

“No one else can take me like this.”

His hand grabs her jaw so their mirror-gaze breaks and she has her neck twisted to look up and behind at him.

The proximity forces her to flutter around him, and Simon ups the pace.

“I fuckin’ love you. You know that?”

“I luh–”

“Uh-uh” he commands, and she shuts her mouth. “I’m talking.”

Her eyes leak tears and her cheeks are just as wet as her cunt. Small squeaks come out her mouth at every push of his hips.

“You make my life.” He grunts, mashing his lips against hers. She warbles against his mouth and her entire body clenches.

Simon wrenches his head from hers and then forces her back to face the mirror. The speed is more frenzied, and there’s no containing her volume now.

“Ah–ah—-hah!... Si! Yes!”

He grabs her right hand, intertwining their fingers, and leads her down to her clit. He ensures that both their hands are touching her engorged, sensitive nub and begins to furiously work it.

“Uh- yes!” 

“Fuckin’ sick of you hating yourself like you don’t have me wrapped around your finger.”

“Ohhhh! Uh–uh—uhh— yessss please Simon,” she sobs, crying and crying but still looking directly at him, “Please. Please!”

“You don’t know how much I want you always.” He huffs, pace manic. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore.

“I want to be in you all the time. This cunt is heaven.”

She’s close, and he’s right behind her.

Refusing to lose control, Simon lowers them to the carpet as carefully as he can manage. Her breasts and his arm are pressed against the rough jute material and he waits a moment to release her right leg to the ground and allows her to shift her left to a more comfortable sprawl.

This fucked iteration of the froggy position is tight on her legs and more than a tad uncomfortable, but at this rate she’d rather die than complain.

He brings their intertwined hands back to her clit, brushing lightly against it to test her readiness and at her cry of please please don’t stop Simon licks his lips and resumes his relentless drilling.

“Your body is my endless heaven. You are my dream. You are my dream.”

He repeats the second time with fluttering eyes and she cries unabashedly into the carpet, mouth open and drool and tears and sweat dripping onto the floor.

“I’m coming! Si I’m coming I’m co--”

Her scream almost drowns him out, but she feels his words against her neck anyway.

“You make me want things. A fuckin’ baby, your belly huge and tits full of milk and fuckin’ soft everywhere.”

The mental image is so horrifyingly clear in his head that Simon is hurtled into his own orgasm, his speech ripped in half by a loud moan. His grunting accompanies hers as she bucks and wails and thrashes beneath him, milking him to the point of near-madness.

Her left ear is ringing and the ache in her hips is more than a little painful, but by the time their highs are over she’s a mess underneath him, and sobbing openly into the carpet. This has been by far the most visceral ‘recalibration’ they’ve ever had, and her heartache has more than been met by intimacy and affection.

She feels such grief and sadness but the feelings are crushed by waves of love so fierce she can’t do anything but weep.

Above her, Simon shifts and smooths a hand down her sweaty back.

“Shhhh,” he whispers against her sweaty head. He repeats it over and over as she expels her anguish and is overcome with lust, adoration, feeling.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

[omniuravity]

I'm gonna rate all the songs in Hazbin Hotel in order from my least favorite to my favorite.

@bloodypeachblog @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered

12. It Starts With Sorry (Episode 2)

This song isn't bad, I just hate how sappy it is. It doesn't help that it's in the same episode as Stayed Gone which is one of my favorites.

11. Whatever It Takes (Episode 3)

Again, I don't hate it I just don't think it's as strong as the rest of the songs. I personally wasn't a fan of the songs in Episode 3, they just weren't as strong as the rest.

10. Welcome To Heaven (Episode 6)

It's not nearly as strong as the other song in the episode. It's pretty good though and reminds me of Happy Day In Hell, which I think was the point.

9. You Didn't Know (Episode 6)

This song is super emotional, but it has way too many story beats within the song and takes me for a ride. It is a powerful song towards the end, but idk it just doesn't hit as hard.

8. Happy Day In Hell (Episode 1)

It's a pretty good first song for the show. I'm just not a fan 🤷🏻‍♀️

7. Respectless (Episode 3)

It sounds like something I'd hear on the radio, which sometimes work but I just wasn't a fan. The only reason this song is so high is because I like Velvette's singing voice.

6. Hell's Greatest Dad (Episode 5)

This episode has two strong songs, and this one is definitely one of my favorites. I love the banter between Lucifer and Alastor. Personally the only thing I dislike about this song is Mimzy's entrance at the end, but I suppose it ends the song.

5. Hell Is Forever (Episode 1)

I love that it's a reprise of Happy Day In Hell, but also Alex Brightman is great at rock musical theatre. It's honestly just a bop. Guitar solo, fuck yeah!

4. Poison (Episode 4)

In my opinion this song is like Addict the sequel. This song is so passionate and strong that it just has to be one of my favorites. This is a reflection of not only Angel Dust as a character, but also the industry he works in.

3. Stayed Gone (Episode 2)

It's so good! It's a double villain song (even though Alastor is technically a protagonist). I am a sucker for a good villain song. Also, as someone who is studying music the A B B A format works really well for me. It's also super jazzy which fits both Vox and Alastor.

2. More Than Anything (Episode 5)

This song made me cry. This song is a testament to Lucifer as a character, as well as his love for his daughter. I am a SUCKER for emotional songs, and this one hit me in the gut.

1. Loser, Baby (Episode 4)

I LOVE Keith David's singing voice especially since I grew up with Princess and the Frog. Not only that, but it's a good start to the slow burn that HuskerDust is supposed to be. I also love that Husk calling "baby" is derogatory and as the song progresses it becomes friendly and loving.

[ivys-head-is-spinning]

IVY TELL ME UR THOUGHTS ON MOANA AND YOUR HOPES FOR MOANA 2

I LOVE MOANAAAA. I’m very excited but very nervous that they will fuck it up cause it was supposed to be a Disney plus show. If you’ve ever seen Atlantis they made a direct to dvd sequel that was supposed to be a show and nothing made sense and it fucking sucked and k hate it with burning passion cause I love Atlantis.

ANYWAYS

So far it doesn’t seem to be the case with moana (especially cause it’s getting a theatrical release and it’s definitely on a bigger budget and based off a more popular movie)

so we shall see!!!! I’m going in excited and with an open mind but not crazy expectations

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 15: PAINFUL RE:BAKE - Episode 1: Picaresque, Again

Ali Baba: “Alright, let’s go, we’re setting off on our search for the legendary phantom Oasis!”

[Applause]

-

Tenma: Thank you very much!

Yuki: Thank you very much.

Muku: Thank you very much!!

Misumi: Thanks, everyone~!!

Kazunari: Thanks for watching~!

Kumon: Thanks~!!

[Applause]

Banri: …

Banri: (... Man, you guys really are awesome.)

Banri: (Us Autumn Troupe are up next.)

-

Banri: …

Izumi: There you are, Banri-kun.

Izumi: Good work on the final day. You did a lot as the assistant director.

Banri: You too, Director-chan.

Izumi: Following the Spring Troupe, a lot happened with the Summer Troupe too…

Banri: And thanks to that, putting a schedule together was crazy work.

Izumi: Just as you gained more experience by working as an assistant director, the Summer Troupe also gained experience in their own ways. And because of that, they were able to take on those “challenges”.

Banri: If all this had happened during the debut performance, they wouldn’t have made it in time.  All of ‘em took on challenges and successfully returned with more experience under their belts.

Izumi: And next is the Autumn Troupe’s turn.

Banri: Yeah.

Banri: … Whenever I do work as an assistant director, I get a rough idea of what the first day of performances is gonna look like.

Banri: But, both Spring and Summer… Their performances kept me on my toes in ways the rehearsals hadn’t, from their first days to the last.

Banri: They leveled up a bunch for the Fleur Award.

Banri: Though standin’ on MANKAI Theater’s stage might also have something to do with it…

Banri: They’ve all grown beyond recognition as actors, and gave meaning to performin’ a continuation of their debut shows.

Izumi: Right… I think these sequels have been more meaningful to the members than I expected them to be.

Banri: Seeing the Summer Troupe, who are usually as chummy as puppies, “challenge” themselves towards their different dreams was also inspirin’.

Banri: Muku and Kumon gritted their teeth through that ruthless workshop, too.

Izumi: Is it lighting a fire in you, Banri-kun? From their Leader to their very last member, the Autumn Troupe is made up of people that hate losing, isn’t it?

Banri: Yeah. We’ll make sure to improve so we don’t lose to Spring and Summer. I’m sure they’re all thinkin’ the same thing too.

Izumi: Right.

Tsuzuru: Ugh, I’m thankful for Arisugawa-san’s praises for my scripts, but I could do without his drunk crying…

Banri: Heya.

Izumi: Come in.

Tsuzuru: Are you having a directors’ meeting?

Banri: Pretty much.

Tsuzuru: Good timing, I was lookin’ for you two. I’ve finished the script for the Autumn Troupe’s sequel–

Izumi: Already!?

Banri: Ain’t this the fastest you’ve ever been?

Tsuzuru: It’d already been decided we’d be doing a sequel to Picaresque, so I’ve been planning it for some time now…

Tsuzuru: And no one had any requests other than keeping the action fast-paced, so gettin’ the job done was pretty smooth sailing.

Tsuzuru: You all said the most in-character thing for Picaresque’s cast would be to live life as they please, so…

Banri: Still, this is too quick. We’ve got a bunch of time till performances start.

Tsuzuru: I wanted to get to Picaresque’s continuation as soon as possible, too.

Tsuzuru: I was curious myself about what everyone from the debut performance would be up to.

Izumi: A lot happened in the debut performance, after all.

Tsuzuru: Back then, I was allowed to watch the Autumn Troupe’s rehearsals right after they formed, and came up with the script based on that.

Izumi: Right.

Tsuzuru: You told me to give not only Banri, who was decided as the leader, but also Juza, a big role and it turned into a buddy play…

Izumi: I also told you that putting Juza-kun, who was most passionate about theater, on center stage might trigger a change.

Tsuzuru: And when it was all said and done… Juza’s growth lit a burning passion in everyone in the Autumn Troupe

Tsuzuru: I was affected by how much you believe in your actors, and how you place your trust in them, and realized, as a scriptwriter, how significant it is to entrust their roles to the actors themselves.

Banri: Damn, all that was going on behind my back?

Banri: When we started out, Hyodo was pretty much an amateur. Havin’ him carry all that responsibility… You guys are insane.

Banri: Geez, Director-chan, you’re so…

Tsuzuru: … But that’s what you’d expect of her.

Banri: Yeah. That’s just who she is.

Izumi: Back then, this troupe had nothing but the members who had just joined. No achievements, or anything else like that…

Izumi: That’s why all I could do was put my faith in you guys. And you’ve come this far, so all’s well that ends well!

Izumi: I don’t think my way of doing things has changed any.

Izumi: First thing I do is watch over the actors. What kind of feelings do they put in their practice sessions and performances?

Izumi: I believe doing everything I can to understand them is the most important thing.

Banri: That hits the nail on its head. I seriously don’t think I’ll ever have you beat in this complete faith you’ve got goin’ on.

Tsuzuru: Making Banri admit defeat’s a real feat.

Izumi: I feel like this just gave me bragging rights.

Banri: ‘lright, you’ll keep a real close eye on us Autumn Troupe too, won’t cha?

Izumi: Of course we will.

Tsuzuru: Leave it to us.

Banri: Yeah.

Banri: (... “Picaresque Returns”.)

Banri: (Back then, I felt a thrill I had never felt before in my life.  And now, just like in the debut performance… I get to live in Picaresque’s world.)

Banri: (I’ll give the scripts to everyone tomorrow. We’ve still got a bunch of time left, so I’ll set up a practice schedule, and…)

previous episode (act 14) | masterpost | next episode

[worktheraft]

a matter of personal taste. gotta admit it feels really lonely being the only one in the 2001 aso "fandom" (if there is such a thing) who absolutely despises the sequels. yeah even 2010 included. yeah there are small bits here and there that are somewhat nice but idk, I just hate unnecessary sequels with a burning passion. I guess it comes with my equally burning passion for those perfect (*chefs kiss*) open endings like the one with 2001.

lol at this point I'd simply try to brainwash myself into thinking the sequels are just alternate universe fanfics which happened to be written by Clarke himself and have nothing to do with the 2001 "canon".

[lorifragolina]

Babylon

The fifth entry for the @harringrovesummerbingo; it's the ideal sequel of Let's live a little. I was inspired by this post by @ourdreamsareneon and by the tags by @harringroveera! When I read the Queer as Folk tag I immediately clicked! If you remember the first scene between Brian and Michael in Babylon's bathroom, you know what I'm talking about! That series was a milestone for me, I really loved it and its characters, it changed my mindset forever, athough I hated the end... maybe for that I love so much happy endings!!!

Title: Babylon

Square & Prompt: B1 "Loss of control"

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1613

Major Tags: WARNING DRUG USE,Harringrove, dancing, bathroom sex, money, date night

Summary: Steve and Billy have a satisfactory domestic life. But every now and then, they find themselves dancing wildly in an underground club, letting their hair down, with frenzy substances and sex.

Read it in AO3

I put it under the cut as there are drugs references right at the beginning:

Steve parked the car and Billy climbed down, a little puzzled, looking around.

“The fuck, Harrington?”

Steve chuckled and clinched his keys. The alley was full of people looking in all fashions and styles, converging to the big neon sign “Babylon”.

“Come on, Billy. We’ll have fun”.

Billy still looked around a little bothered. “Didn’t know you liked such places”.

“Some of my colleagues party here sometimes”.

“I don’t like techno music,” insisted Billy.

“Come on,” repeated Steve, taking his hand. “I love our domestic life and such, but hey, a day is a day. A night is a night, come on,” he rapidly fleshed a little bag with some white dust inside from his inner pocket.

Billy pursed his lips and shrugged, joining the queue in silence.

People around him were loud and happy and confident; he felt a little out of place there, while looking at Steve he had a content smile and kept squeezing his hand.

Billy wished he felt like that, he always wanted to be like that when he was trapped in his abusive house with his homophobic father, but he still felt judged and locked up by the fear of Neil and the sense of unsuitableness he had been able to grow in him during all those years. Unwillingly, he still tried to be the good boy his father wanted and at the same time, he was terrified that Neil could find him.

He took a cig from his pocket; Steve asked for one and Billy looked in his brown, shiny eyes, all for him. No, Steve didn’t deserve a frightened Billy, and he himself didn’t deserve a frightened Billy; Neil didn’t deserve to control his life even now. Domestic life was good, as said Steve, but he stopped being himself, and he was a blatant, bitchy and loud man in an underground gay club queue in Los Angeles, with a boyfriend, a bag of molly and without fear and underwear.

He grinned at Steve and unbuttoned an additional button defiantly.

“I’m glad I’m going commando,” he whispered in Steve's ear.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve answered grovelly, kissing him with hunger and passion.

They toasted with the first cocktail Steve bought at the bar. Billy gulped half of it at once, feeling the vodka burning his tongue and his throat, and smiling. He smelled the alcohol, the sweat and the hot desire in the air, and tasted all of them in Steve’s mouth on his’.

“Let’s dance,” Steve pulled him to the dance floor and, although he felt a little confused at first, he drank the rest of his drink and let the music pump under his skin along with his blood. 

He felt the alcohol going to his head at his head like when he got wasted in high school to forget his misery; but now he wasn’t running away from bad things, he was there with the most beautiful man of the club, carefree and in love and he wanted to have the best time of his life.

People danced around him, someone really near him. Some hands slipped inside his shirt, but he could see only Steve, laughing and dancing at his side, his hair glued to his forehead. He looked at all the men touching his boyfriend, and grabbed him by his collar, kissing him possessively, letting them down and exciting them at the same time.

“I’m fucking thirsty, come on,” Steve pulled him at the bar again, buying two shots and then two more. “Let’s go,” he grabbed Billy's hand while gulping the last one, and dragged him to the bathroom. 

The tunnel was dark and hot and full of moans and knelt shadows, and Billy felt he was so close to losing control too; he felt the vein on his neck pulsing, as his blood had been compelled under a collar of fear all that time and now it just wanted to explode free. Steve pushed him against the wall and crushed him with his groin, grinding his hard dick inside the pants between his legs.

Billy reached it with a hand and squeezed it. He crossed his eyes with someone casually passing and almost lose his mind, seeing the desire, the freedom, the passion in a stranger’s glaze looking at his youth and beauty; Steve moaned in his neck and Billy grinned, a grin Steve hadn’t seen on his face in ages: the grin of King Billy.

Billy grinned and knelt, opening Steve’s zip. Steve leaned against the wall and lost his mind at the same time.

“Come on,” Steve tasted his own flavor on Billy’s lips after zipping his pants again. He smiled and nodded to the bathroom.

Billy followed him, a little tipsy and euphoric. 

Steve took out the bag with the white powder and reached a sink at the bottom of the room, crowded by other people busy with the same thing. He leant a rolled bill to Billy, and he smiled a crooked smile and bent on the sink. 

He laughed out of control, and Steve laughed too, pulling his hair and grabbing his face in a kiss. 

Billy watched money flashed to the barman, cocktails handed to him, bodies grinned to him and lights, colors, beats pumped around him, for minutes, hours, he didn’t know. He kissed and drank and danced, the only things that grounded him there were Steve’s eyes and lips near him, his fingers tucket a little inside his tight jeans belt. He registered Steve talking with someone but he was so high and drunk and deliciously wasted he didn’t bother asking anything.

“Shit, you’re beautiful,” someone yelled in his ear, trying to overcome the loud music. “I want to fuck you”.

“Join the queue,” he heard Steve yelling in return, and he laughed loudly while Steve dragged him away again. 

“You’re having a good time, babe?” Steve snickered in his ear once in the tunnel again.

Billy kissed him as an answer and forced Steve’s hand on his dick, hard from hours now.

Steve took the bag again and offered him the rolled bill.

“Come on…”, he dragged Billy into the only free stall, hearing the moaning and the bangs from behind the other closed doors. 

Billy leaned his head on the wall, his eyes a little unfocused, but he forced himself to look at the little bottle Steve was showing to him. 

“A little present,” he whispered, smiling at him. He opened the bottle.

Billy took a good breath and the smell of rotten fruit of the popper got in his brain, making his blood pumping faster and harder, and his body floating in the little space. 

Steve pulled down his own pants and frantically opened Billy’s too; Billy’s dick was already leaking, rocking hard and available without any other barrier in the middle.

“So it was true you’re going commando…” Steve whispered, jerking their dicks together. 

Billy can feel only his dick and his hole pulsing. He bent a leg around Steve’s waist and didn’t need to wait or adapt, he got the whole, big cock inside with a delicious moan that made Steve feral. 

Steve could only feel the hot, wet hole around his dick and he didn’t bother thinking about being delicate; Billy cried, drooling in his thrusts, jerking his dick between them, sweating and cursing him, out of his mind.

“Come on, Jesus Christ, fuck…” Steve whimper making Billy turn against the wall, grabbing his back and wrecking him again, breaking him apart.

Billy pushed back, slapping Steve’s balls against his ass, spreading his legs and got him so deep he felt Steve’s thrusts in his throat.

He came in his own hand, almost zoning out and losing grip of his body on the wall, and Steve stabbed his fingers in his flesh, loading him with a last, good moan and keeping pushing inside him for a while. 

Billy turned again face to face with him, looking Steve’s red, wet face and smiling at him, the sweat and the cum dripping on his legs, his mind still floating in their artificial paradise. 

Steve kissed him sweetly and everything got confused again.

Billy found himself dragging a joint in the fresh air of dawn, looking at a couple of seagulls picking the garbage on the sand. Steve took the joint from his fingers and took a drag too, blowing the smoke on Billy’s face with a kiss. 

They were laying on a beach towel under a boat, still a little high and confused, resting side to side looking at the still dark sky.

Billy didn’t remember a lot; they returned to dance and drank more, and had more sex maybe, he was sure he gave Steve head again at some point, then they went laughing to the car and Steve sat in the driver seat, still laughing, and at the third try to put the keys in, he gave up.

“I can’t drive home,” he said comically and Billy burst to laugh. 

They waited on the beach to calm a little before driving home again.

“It was great,” whispered Billy.

“I knew it”.

“We have to do it more”.

“Are you sure? A day is a day, as you said”.

“I liked it,” insisted Billy, still stumbling a little with the words. 

“Ok, babe”. 

Steve smiled and passed the joint back to Billy, slipping a hand under his still opened shirt. “I liked it too. But I still like our domestic, quiet life”.

“And fucking me sweetly at the beach at down?” Smirked Billy, lying comfortably and letting Steve settle over him.

“Of course”.

Steve kissed his neck while opening Billy’s pants. 

Billy spread his legs, moaning softly.

[spazzcat]

Spazzcat's (Incomplete) YOI Fic Rec List

@alexseanchai said yes please, so now you all get to hear me ramble about the YOI fics I've been reading! I may do another one in the future since I'm still working through the archive but for now, these are the ones I've enjoyed and hope you will too! Note: Unless specified otherwise, all these are completed works.

Until my Feet Bleed and my Heart Aches by Reiya

‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’   A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries. Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.

Wordcount: 200k Sex scenes: Several, plot-critical Additional notes: This is the first installment of the Rivals series, which probably everyone in the fandom has heard of but I can't not include it. The sequel, Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts, covers the story from Victor's POV. An absolute banger of a series, and a real treat to reread as well as read for the first time after learning what was happening on the other side of the conversations. Expect lots and lots of miscommunication and heavy emotions throughout.

2. Stargazer by Fahye

"No, see, we've all been trained a certain way. The training system is traditional; it's centuries old. Nobody taught you. You ballist like it's got nothing to do with war at all." A sleepy, extraordinary smile crawls over Victor's face. "Nobody else does it like that. That's why we're going to win."

Wordcount: 23k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: To paraphrase the author's notes, this is a sports AU of a sports canon, where the sport is a made-up sci-fi sport played by royalty. It sounds absolutely insane, I know, but trust me, the world-building is perfectly executed to tell you everything you need to know without getting bogged down with unnecessary exposition. Has an Otayuri-centric sequel.

3. Dear Mama by Ferrero13

In which Victor writes letters to his mother, who is fifty percent of his rationality and self-control.

Wordcount: 30k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Epistolary format following canon from the perspective of Victor writing back and forth with his mother. Just a very cute and funny insight into Victor's head and heart.

4. How the Mighty Fall (In Love) by braveten

Every Victor Nikiforov fan has three things in common.

1. They have unrealistic expectations for romance. 2. They mark their calendars with the dates of his newest book releases and the premieres of his latest movie adaptations. 3. They either passionately hate or love his greatest rival, a mysterious author whose pseudonym is only two letters: “KY.”

Wordcount: 30k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Authors AU, just an all-around fun read of meeting, falling, and some hilarious mix-ups and mistakes along the way.

5. My Fun Fact Is: by stillmadaboutpetra

Yuuri fails to mention to his new non-skater friends who he is or who his husband is. Or that he even has a husband.

Wordcount: 6k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: The identity reveal trope is one of my favourites, and this is my favourite fic out of those.

6. Written in the Stars by pheonixwaller

Yuri Katsuki is a scientist aboard a deep space research vessel. Their mission is to chart and study a black hole, but when there's an accident Yuri is forced to abandon ship. Alone and adrift he can only watch as his husband, Phichit, and all their friends are killed. Then, with rescue likely years away, he goes into stasis. Victor Nikiforov is the young captain of an exploration vessel. Known for his charisma it is his job to make first contact and establish friendly relationships with other space-faring societies. But his curiosity is piqued when his crew detects an old distress signal, and finds a lone survivor from a ship lost nearly a hundred years before.

Wordcount: 90k Sex scenes: yes, not plot-essential Additional notes: Far future sci-fi, be prepared for character deaths right at the beginning and grief/mourning throughout. Really well-thought-out sci-fi experience with romance as part of the plot but not the entire focus.

7. Tale of a Sleeping Prince by phoenixwaller

In a world where soulmates exist, but may not be alive at the same time, those born first become "sleepers." They go into self-induced hibernation that can last centuries until their soulmate is of age, and close physical distance. At the age of 12 Yuri Katsuki sees a photo of the living legend, the oldest known sleeper, Victor Nikiforov. It sets in motion a desire to get close to the other man by training to be a caretaker. Eventually he finds himself in Saint Petersburg Russia, ready to work as close to the sleeping man, but as he approaches the Living Legend awakens.

Wordcount: 16k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: I am weak for soulmate AUs and this is a really unique one supported by fantastic worldbuilding.

8. Trust Me, I'm an Alchemist by metisket

In which Yuri Plisetsky began life with the name Edward Elric, and this has made the world of figure skating a significantly stranger and more alarming place. “Are you saying you lived a life of crime before you began skating?” “I’m gonna have to check the statute of limitations on a couple things and get back to you on that.”

Wordcount: 55k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Crossover with FMA, but knowledge of that canon needed to understand this should be minimal, I think. Focuses on Yurio and is one of the most hilarious fics I have ever read in my life, if you only read one fic from this list let it be this one, you won't regret it.

9. Empty Ice by phoenixwaller

Yuri Katsuki is considering retiring from competitive figure skating after coming in sixth at his first Grand Prix Final, but an accident only days after the final leaves his idol, Victor Nikiforov, in a coma. Grief stricken, Yuri decides to dedicate his season to the fallen skater and throws himself into the sport. He puts everything on the line for three final competitions. Then, dreams shattered, he retires. Adrift, grieving, and unsure of his place in the world Yuri turns to photography and quickly becomes known as one of the best figure skating photographers at competitions. It is this that leads him to the one thing that lends a sense of catharsis: recreating famous photographs of Victor, except in empty ice rinks. However, soon strange artifacts start to appear in his photos, and a presence calling itself Victor attaches itself to him. Yuri is left to wonder if he is going insane or if he's being haunted, and whether the strange artifacts in the photos are at all connected to the comatose skater.

Wordcount: 78k Sex scenes: yes Additional notes: Mind the tags, but trust me, it's worth the weird.

10. Miliy by fangirlandiknowit

Viktor finds himself in a sticky situation – referring to more than the mess in his pants after watching his favorite camboy’s show. In other words, how do you tell a camboy with a celebrity crush on Viktor Nikiforov that you are, in fact, the very man you role play with him as? The answer - you don't.

Wordcount: 66k Sex scenes: several, plot-important Additional notes: Lots of sex scenes (it's a camboy AU, what do you expect) but still manages to pack in an impressive amount of plot, drama, and feels.

11. Lessons in Love by fangirlandiknowit

All Viktor wants is for his son to be happy - and if that means spending countless hours at the ice rink, a million more in the ballet studio, and devotedly cheering for Katsuki Yuuri at every competition he enters, then that is precisely what he'll do. He just didn't expect to become a fan, too. (He didn't expect to fall in love.)

Wordcount: 180k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Broke: fake dating. Woke: Pining so hard everyone around you is convinced you're already dating. Strikes a great balance between a Victor who takes the important things in his life very seriously and a Victor who is a complete disaster when Yuuri's around. Very sweet, very funny, however you may have to suspend your disbelief regarding the physical and mental development of a ten-year-old.

12. No Storm Can Venture There (orphaned fic)

General Viktor Nikiforov stands, hands in his pockets, facing the man he so desperately needs on his side. "We've got four Jaegers and we're missing a pilot," he states. Pauses. The silence stretches, pulled at both ends by both stubborn wills. Finally- "You know I won't," former Ranger Yuuri Katsuki starts, turning his gaze aside, standing, shoulders tense, "can't." Viktor closes the distance. "Of course you don't think you can when you've been hiding from the possibility."

Wordcount: 180k Sex scenes: Otayuri glimpsed only briefly Additional notes: Going in, this fic starts off seeming like a beat-for-beat Pacific Rim rewrite with YOI characters. If you give it a chance, however, it is very much not, and goes further and further away as the story progresses. Very much a wild ride.

13. you're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be by roserelease

More than anything, Yuuri wants to impress his cosplay role model Viktor Nikiforov, aka Nike Cosplay. But after a horrible start to a convention weekend, he panics and backs out at the last second to meet his idol. Normally this would be fine, except Yuuri discovers too late that there's a little Viktor related secret inside the con vlog his best friend filmed over the course of the weekend for him... It's fine, he thinks. Embarrassing, but not the end of the world. And it's not like Viktor himself will ever see the con vlog, so why worry? (Except for when one fateful, lonely night, Viktor does.)

Wordcount: 200k Sex scenes: yes Additional tags: Be very mindful of the tags, while being a very positive story overall this one does touch on some heavy subjects and the second installment in the series even more so. Fourth installment is in progress and last updated Jan 15, 2024 at time of writing.

14. empty spaces between stars by astudyinrose

Victor gets just as drunk as Yuuri at the Sochi Banquet, and they disappear together after the dance-offs. They wake up the morning after with rings on their fingers, and pictures of them kissing after getting married the night before are all over the tabloids… but neither of them remembers a thing. They decide to stay married for a while for the sake of Victor's sponsorships, and in exchange, Victor coaches Yuuri through nationals…

Wordcount: 225k Sex scenes: yes Additional notes: Be mindful of the tags again for this one, otherwise a nice juicy slowburn of relationship development.

15. The Coin, The Stone, & The Rose by Silver_Scribbles

Crown Prince Viktor Nikiforov once had the world at his fingertips; he was rich and powerful and handsome, and he had everything his heart desired. Now, he is a Beast, imprisoned by an Enchantress' spell; hiding away from the world in the never-ending winter of his shame. Katsuki Yuuri is . . . odd, to say the least. Beautiful, but odd. While the rest of the villagers put one foot firmly in front of the other, Yuuri would rather loose himself to his dancing and his daydreams; always wishing for something more than his provincial life. Each is captive to circumstances beyond their control; trapped by unbreakable spells and impossible dreams. However, an unlikely meeting is about to change everything. Hope makes a final play for their salvation as the sands of time run out; but as Yuuri and Viktor learn to find themselves in one another, they also make discoveries that they're completely unprepared for . . . some wondrous, some wretched . . . and some treacherous enough to permanently tear them apart. For who could ever learn to love a Beast?

Wordcount: 270k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: While the first chapter is a well-executed tribute to disney's Beauty and the Beast, this is very much its own story that takes some of the basic elements and creates something entirely new and suited to the characters. Be advised that as the story progresses it does get a bit darker and heavier in some ways that aren't tagged for such as blackmail, forced marriage, and violence, but it does end happily.

16. The Rules for Lovers by ADreamingSongbird

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well… That’s a long story.

Wordcount: 325k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Fascinating AU mixing not just royalty but magic, with a background world that diverged from our own. Does take the realities of court politics and political intrigue seriously and gets fairly dark at points, so approach with some caution.

17. Let Me Fall For You by HuntressFirefall

Victor Nikiforov was on his way to becoming a Living Legend in the sport of figure skating. After hitting his stride and winning back-to-back World Championships, the sport's biggest star was the overwhelming favorite to win gold in his third Olympics on home ice in Sochi, Russia. But when Yuri Katsuki pulls off the upset victory in Sochi at the young age of 21 and takes the gold, Victor begins to see his world and the people in it in a very different light -- and it turns out they see him differently as well. No longer knowing who he can rely on and finding he didn't know those close to him as well as he thought, when his skating career falters Victor makes a shocking choice that turns his world upside down in ways he did -- and didn't -- expect.

Wordcount: 400k Sex scenes: yes Additional notes: Takes a very serious look at the pressures of high-level skating and the consequences of that. The heavy emotions lead to the ending being satisfying beyond belief.

18. The Nature of Things by Zombubble

Lonely, tired, and stuck in Detroit for two months due to competitions, Viktor Nikiforov decides he's staying. He's not sure what he expects to find, but it's certainly not love, and he certainly doesn't expect it to come in the form of the World's Cutest Barista. But when the pressure of his career threatens to strain his burgeoning relationship, and long-held secrets come into the light, he finds his love tested in ways he'd never anticipated, with life-changing results.

Wordcount: 465k Sex scenes: None that I can recall Additional notes: What starts off looking like a meet-cute with skater!Victor and barista!Yuuri turns far more complex and serious when Yuuri turns out to be secret royalty. Long, emotion-heavy, and just touching on some of the darker facets of court reality.

19. All Our Yesterdays by Kitsunebi_UK

York, England, 2120: Yuuri Katsuki is a dime-a-dozen techie, spending his days doing routine repairs at the university. He hangs out with his friend Phichit, goes for a drink, watches holograms. It’s an existence – but is it a life? Crowood Castle, Yorkshire, 1392: As the son of a baron, Sir Victor Nikiforov makes judgements where lives hang in the balance. As a knight, he must sometimes end them. It’s what he was born to do – but what of the heavy burden on his soul? Death is all too commonplace, while life and love remain elusive. When a brilliant scientist goes rogue, journeying to the Middle Ages with the world’s first time machine, Yuuri is stunned to be called on as the last hope of preventing her from changing history. After an abrupt departure, he lands at Crowood Castle disguised as an enemy of the Nikiforovs, Sir Justin le Savage – and will need to act the part if he is to survive. It’s a tall order for someone who can barely tell the back end of a horse from the front. But if Ailis, in her own disguise, discovers who he is, his mission will end in a blaze of laser-gun fire. He must not give his real identity away, even to the beguiling knight he’s falling in love with…

Wordcount: 1.02 million Sex scenes: yes Additional notes: A wild ride from start to finish, with truly exceptional attention to detail in creating a believable future and a realistic past, plus some scarily believable worldbuilding for the time periods in between. Expect period-typical violence for all eras that come into play. Does get downright heartbreaking near the end, but hang in there, they do get their happy ending, I promise.

20. Equivalent Exchange by writingfromtheshadows

Without the Katsuki line to protect and maintain the laws of magic, Great Mages have become so few and far between that many believe the age of magic is coming to an end. However, when he comes across a young man weaving tales with figures of fire, Viktor begins to wonder if magic is truly dead, or if it lives on in the body of the storyteller with warm brown eyes.

Wordcount: 200k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Wonderfully constructed fantasy setting, intriguing magic system, and an intense plot bringing it all together.

21. When the World Stops... by Miled

When an injury sidelines Viktor from competing as a skater, Yakov encourages him to take up coaching even if he kind of sucks at it. On the other hand, Yuuri is absolutely devastated that he can no longer strive to compete with his inspiration. Instead of giving it up, he dedicates one last season to honoring Viktor's career...but then Viktor takes notice.

Wordcount: 200k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: Just a really interesting what if possibility!

22. L'ultima volta by goodbye_blue

“Hey, Mila,” Viktor looked up at her, bleary-eyed. “You don’t know any theoretical physicists, do you?” “…No?” She replied hesitantly. Yakov had seen enough. “What the hell are you doing?!” He stormed, rounding the table. Oh no, he thought when he saw the video. His stomach sank a little. It was that Japanese skater, Katsuki. The dark horse who had just demolished the competition at Skate America.

Yuuri and Viktor find themselves years in the past, right at the start of the fateful season where they first met. Now, if only they could figure out whether they’ve come back alone.

Wordcount: 25k Sex scenes: none Additional notes: They're idiots, your honour.

23. eternity will be born from hope by vivi_writ3s

On the tail-end of being dropped by his junior coach mid-season, Yuuri Katsuki is hit by a car and realises the universe must have a sick pleasure in fucking him over. Or; Twenty-nine year old Yuuri wakes up in his seventeen-year old body and decides fuck it, if the universe decided to screw with him, he’s going to screw back.

IN PROGRESS Additional notes: This is the beginning of a rewrite of a fic by the same name and author that they decided to alter because they realized they went OOC for Victor's age in the story. The pre-rewite version is still up as the first fic in the series and is absolutely worth reading as is (there are several scenes I go back to regularly).

[nfcv-saltmine]

this article is a fucking disaster but HOOOOOO THERE'S SO MANY THINGS WRONG IN THIS PARTICULAR AREA

Haha, like what? :) The fact that this is proof that they do not give a single shit about anything? :) Other than using pre-existent material to tell their own stories with their own characters? :)

It's funny, actually. This was meant to happen, when you think about it. The first Netflixvania created a legacy of "we know nothing about the source material so we do whatever the fuck we want!". Of course a sequel would follow that legacy... except now, the original show counts as "source material". :) That's what we call karma, guys. ❤️

No more needing a human to practice devil forging, now a machine can do it. Goodbye the devils forged being beasts with the intelligence of a dog, except for ONE fly-guy (wich the capacity to talk and reason is a mystery), and being very very loyal to their creator. Hello devils who can talk and sing and still have their human minds and are designed to be more humanoid and "beautiful" and who's loyalty to their master is feeble (even fly guy was loyal to isaac, but let's be fair, you can hardly be loyal to a fucking machine). Goodbye Morning Star, hello the random whip that we have to pretend is important now. Goodbye "lol crosses confuse vampires that's why it hurts them", hello "actually it DOES hurt them because crosses are holy". And hello... this.

I don't know if they are going to make a "haha your father was so dumb" joke about Alucard's name in the show itself. It wouldn't surprise me, I can easily see Richter say it and Alucard glaring at him in a "god you still think you're funny" way. :) But honestly, whether or not they do it, it doesn't matter. Because this right there... this is the proof that Bradley don't care. This is the proof that he either did not watch the show he's making a sequel for (like Ellis did not play the games or even watched playthroughs of it ❤️), or he did with his brain turned off. Maybe he found Alucard and Trevor's relationship to be so fucking funny all he wants is recreate it in his show. :) Because clearly, that's what we're gonna get. Literally the first thing Alucard did when he appeared at the end of Nocturne was mock the Belmonts. It's only going downhill from here.

Forget about the games being clear about Alucard choosing to go by this name (the FIRST thing you see when you go on his wiki page is his BIRTH NAME.), he didn't need to go this far to realize that... because the fucking show made Alucard HIMSELF state that he's going to go by Alucard now, the "name of his mother's people", to oppose his father!! Every. Single. Nfcv fan knows his name used to be Adrian. BUT THE GUY WHO IS WRITING THE SEQUEL DOESN'T? It is such a CLEAR evidence to me that, just like Ellis for the first show, the writers of Nocturne don't give a shit about the material that came before them. They didn't bother making proper researches and taking notes. They just wanted to tell their stories!! With their characters!! They don't care about the inconsistencies they create in the process.

See, as much as i hate NFCV with a burning passion ❤️ I still would have had more respect for Nocturne if it had followed what had been established by it. Because this far, all it kept from the first show, is: every girl being either a fridge or a #girlboss, Belmonts being awful and jokes to be mocked, Alucard being a cunt to Belmonts, CHURCH BAD theme, and bad, often mean-spirited writing. Oh and "Alucard is the coolest fr fr".

God this is going to be an awful season. I cannot wait to see Alucard and Annette team up to shit on Richter and his trauma.

[omegawizardposting]

The thing about Tears of the Kingdom is that if it wasn't a sequel to Breath of the Wild, we wouldn't have a bunch of YouTube essayists coming out a year later saying, "Um, actually, TotK is BAD."

TotK isn't a bad game, not by a long shot. It is, however, a game cursed to forever live in the shadow of its predecessor, which was a complete departure from the usual Zelda formula beloved by old and new fans alike.

I have that same problem. I am constantly comparing TotK to BotW, one of my favorite games of all time and one of the only LoZ games I've actually enjoyed playing. (I'm not much of a dungeon crawler.) I have other gripes with it, but a lot of my disappointment comes from TotK not feeling like a proper sequel.

I saw this with Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs, too. I loved A Machine for Pigs, and I love TotK, but they are both sequels to massively popular games that didn't quite capture that same feeling as their predecessors, and that turned a lot of fans of those predecessors against them. It made it difficult for some fans to enjoy them.

I think saying that TotK is bad, though, is deeply disingenuous--and I say this as someone who has despised sequels to my favorite games in the past.

I hate Black/White 2 with a burning passion, but as I've gotten older, I've come to recognize that they're good Pokemon games. They simply didn't live up to the standard set by Black/White in my heart.

I cannot stand The Evil Within 2, but a lot of people enjoyed it, and from everything I've seen of it, it's a good game. It just wasn't the OG and did away with some of my favorite characters.

Etc., etc.

It's important to acknowledge when your love for something is tainting the way you view the thing that follows it, otherwise you come off as kind of a pretentious dick.

[funkytoesart]

I wanna start drawing star wars fanart this summer, i even have an age old star wars fanart blog that i have only posted something like,,, twice to, bc i have this deep unsettled feeling about making sw content bc in college i had a brief moment there where I went from being a huge star wars fan since i first saw the movies as like a baby to being completely apathetic to the whole franchise (bc some douchebag decided to "quiz" me on how good of star wars fan (aka how well i knew trivia from the extended universe/books, of which i'd only read a few) and then publicly mocked me for being a fake fan so I stopped liking star wars after that and have only in recent years slowly started enjoying the franchise again... and On Top of that I have yet to see the last of the sequel trilogy (rise of skywalker) bc it looked so damn bad, plus i hate reylo with a burning passion lmao, but i do feel like not having seen it (and in fact, not having seen Every Star Wars Thing or Read Every Star Wars Thing) means yes, maybe i AM a fake fan and Shouldn't make star wars fanart/content,,,

idk just something I'm kinda struggling with lately

[syoish-aot]

I know I posted about it yesterday but I seriously can't stop thinking about Floch/Reader/Eren in a Ten Seconds sequel!! Floch, that little bastard, as INVADED MY BRAIN!!! I love an enemies to lovers story and it becomes so BEAUTIFULLY COMPLICATED if a Floch/Reader romance blooms in this verse ahhhhh

listen here:

[Eren/Reader/Floch - established Eren/Reader, reader is asexual]

Floch's been in love with Eren since DAY 1 of them meeting (Eren was his bi awakening) so when they start having casual sex in their first year of uni but Eren's really clear with him about "no feelings" SO he bottles those feelings up (it's cliche but KEEP READING)

THEN when Eren starts dating you (aka the whole plot of Ten Seconds) Floch is so fucking heart broken because Eren had told him over and over again that he doesn't date people and just fucks

BUT AT LEAST you and Eren start to have a really weird nontraditional relationship where Eren still fucks other people (which Floch DOES NOT understand and eventually comes out as aphobia because he's ignorant don't worry he will learn)

Even though he can get railed by your boyfriend, Floch still hates you with a burning passion because Eren's so clearly in love with you and the way he looks at you is different than how Eren's ever looked at anyone else

And Floch can't help the jealousy that burns a hole in his heart every time he sees it

Meanwhile you:

Have never really understood why Floch hates you so much. Especially since it started even before you and Eren were dating

So you tend to just ignore Floch so you don't have to deal with the headache

You know Eren likes hanging out with him (and having sex with him) so you're not going to get in the way of that

Then one day you show up to Eren's apartment just as Floch is leaving. Floch doesn't notice you're there. You see a different side of him than you've ever seen - he's softer, less angry, smiling and even laughs (a genuine laugh too, not a laugh used to mock someone)

And it makes you start seeing him in a completely different way

You start to notice the little things: how he always hesitates before saying something mean, how his eyes light up when he gets a text from a friend, how he always looks like he's about to reach out to touch Eren before he stops and pulls back.

You start to learn little things too: he gets terrible allergies in the spring, he's deathly afraid of rodents, he plays the piano and has one of the most angelic singing voices you've ever heard (and he doesn't know you heard him singing, so you can't even compliment him on it)

So you're dating Eren

Eren's fucking Floch

Floch hates you

And you... you're starting to find it hard to hate him back

Honestly, you're starting to find it hard to feel anything but the OPPOSITE of hatred...

[ambeauty]

13 books to get to know me better

Tagged by my sister @jonskory

1. To All The Boys I Loved Before (Series) by Jenny Han- I read after I watched the first movie and completely fell in love. It made my heart flutter in the best way. The books are of course so much better!

2. Legendborn by Tracy Deonn - the first time I ever felt completely represented in a fantasy series. I was blown away with how Tracy tied in Black American culture/history/folklore into an Arthurian tale. Pretty masterful

3. New Camelot Series by Sierra Simone - I love poly ships and these 3 were so magnetic and passionate! Hated the age gap but it made up for it in plot. The twist you never see coming 😭

4. Queen Move by Kennedy Ryan - a beautiful story with childhood friends to lovers with actual adult characters with real life traumas and history that was relatable and sexy!

5. Sinner by Sierra Simone - Shocking but in the best way! Idk what else to say. Read it and prepare to have your jaw dropped.

6. Wolf by Wolf by Ryan Gaudin - Never did I ever think a historical fiction would have me in a grip like this! This story is so good! The sci-fi, the enemies to lovers, the action! It’s all there 😮‍💨

7. Tiny Pretty Things by Dhonielle Clayton - I loved the tension and the stakes of this one! Netflix show butchered tf out of this book it was soo good.

8. An American Marriage by Tayari Jones - This book was intense! But the drama had me by the neck! So many different emotions while reading this. Mildly traumatic but for the most part just beautiful story telling.

9. The Coldest Winter Ever by Sista Soujah - should’ve never been reading this smut at the age I read but it was a wild story with even wilder scenes. The sequel that came out decades later pissed me off because the plot of this was actually good.

10. One of us is Lying by Karen McManus- Good mystery and great ships! Loved the twists and turns and the slow burn ship at the center. Book 2 is not as good.

11. Carry On by Rainbow Rowell - Love everything about this HP inspired wizard romance! Books 1&2 are it… idk what happened with 3!

12. Burn for Burn by Jenny Han - This series was not what I was expecting but it was so interesting and well told with the usual JH sensibilities

13. Permanent Record by Mary Choi - Hardly ever have a plot where the fmc is the star! This was so fun and poetic.

Tagging whoever wants to partake 🥰