#and I miss the. the Dynamism of the lighting. I feel like they aren't doing lighting switches as much now. might just be that I got used to

[shoyoist]

── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 : VI.

content: 2k words ! fem reader, pit fighter!vi, fwb dynamic. this is obviously sapphic. vi tops and she has a strap, rough sεx, cunnilingus, spit, slapping (not on the face), usage of petnames like 'princess' and 'baby', a lil angsty and tense, mentions of sεx work, p<3rn with plot!!

— . ｡˚ ♡ turns out, vi needed a rebound too.

vi is rougher and quieter than usual tonight.

shedding her clothes and pulling on the strap you've left on the bedside table for her, she climbs wordlessly onto your creaky mattress to get to you. you've been laying in bed for hours, all dolled up for her, and she doesn't really even look at you— it makes your heart sink a little.

you wrap your arms around her anyway, allowing her to touch you, and with a soft sigh, she gives the swell of your chest a kiss, 'hello'.

the pallid light coming through your window outlines her body in pale blue, and her smell invades your senses as she leans into your body, pressing her weight on you. 

gripping the soft underside of your thighs harshly, digging her nails into your tender skin, she pushes your knees to your chest. "you missed me, princess?"

"mmm, i did." you're looking at her with the most innocent gaze you can muster, eyes wet and lips pouty, and she leans in to give them a kiss just like you want her to. her mouth tastes sour enough of sweat and cheap alcohol to make you wince— but when she pulls back, you feel a twinge of disappointment that it doesn't last long enough.

fresh out of a fight, she's still full of adrenaline — and wastes no time on foreplay. hooking your legs over those broad shoulders of hers, she spits onto your cunt and gets right to it. 

her eyes roll halfway back into her head as she slips the strap into your cunt, like she can feel the way your pussy grips it. throwing her head back, she moans hoarsely, in sync with the sweet whine that comes out of your mouth as she rolls her hips into yours, sliding the strap all the way in. "that's a good girl, fuck."

yes. you are a good girl. her good girl.

vi has been coming to you every night or so, for a few months now — and at first it was just a good deal of sex for you both. but lately, you've found yourself less interested in the sex she offers you, and more interested in the woman herself.

your room is dark, like it always is when she comes over, and the harsh pleasure she gives you always turns your mind cloudy — but nothing can sway the watchful gaze you fix onto vi whenever you're in her arms. through half-closed eyes, you count the nicks and bruises that line the base of her throat and her shoulders and arms. the scratches and cuts, redder because she's flushed, drunk and exerting herself.

twelve new marks since last time. you wonder if she won tonight's fight or if she lost. the way she fucks you doesn't make a difference, so you can't tell — what you do know is that she comes to you seeking an escape from frustrations that stem from something unrelated to the fights entirely. 

and whatever it is, it frustrates her a lot.

she seems especially bothered tonight. you try to hold onto her, nails scratching at her muscled back as you struggle to maintain your grip. her pace is dizzying, and her grip on your body doesn't get lighter. she fucks you nearly like she wants you dead. "vi, vi—"

"you're doin' good, baby." she hisses, eyes shut. "g'nna make you cum in a bit, kay? just let me see you take my strap first. pretty thing."

and you take it — like a good girl. how could you not? when she acts like she's ravenous about you? when, with how she puts those dead eyes and calloused hands and busted lips on you, she makes you feel something no one else ever has?

she looks so good, too — so hot, with the dark hair, the ashy streaks running down her face, the lipstick smudged down her bottom lip that's just slightly fuller than her top lip — and the muscles, god.

her tits aren't nearly big enough to hang in your face while she's on top, but they bounce a little with each snap of her hips, and the sight mesmerizes you. she laughs softly when your pussy squelches for her — and it makes your heart flutter. fuck. you might just be in love with this ghost of a woman. "vi, please."

"you like that?" she hums, landing a kiss on the side of your knee that leaves a bit of lipstick stained on your skin. "y'like it when i fuck you to bits?"

"mhm," you choke out, keeping your eyes on her so you don't miss it when she looks at you. "wanna cum, make me cum, please."

the strap slides out of you as smoothly as it slid in — and heat rises to your cheeks when vi stares at how your cunt clenches around nothing. "can't say no to you when you ask so nicely." she reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face, giving you that half-smile that makes your heart twist just as much as your gut.

"look at you." she lowers her face to your chest, lips tracing kisses downward. one hand comes up to squeeze at your tits, soft and sharp at the same time, index finger and thumb teasing your nipple and making you keen. "pretty, pretty thing."

she nudges your legs apart, getting comfortable between them. her other hand toys with your cunt, middle and ring finger slowly coaxing their way into your hole like she's learning to be gentle now. your body tenses with anticipation, feeling the way her lips get closer and closer to where you want them to go. "ngh. just—please."

the first flick of her tongue on your clit makes you gasp, body rocking in reaction— and vi slaps your thigh. "shhh," is all she says, but it makes you behave. she spreads your pussy open with her fingers like it's a flower, and takes you whole.

the wet sounds of a mouth on a cunt fill your shoddy little room, and you moan and shudder in vi's arms, caged in her hold as she draws the orgasm out of you.

and she does it so quickly, having learned what touches of her tongue your clit likes best, how you like having her fingers, when to add the extra tug to your nipples. she makes you go insane so easily.

like she took the time to figure out how to do it. like she cared enough to do that. like she might just l—

the white-hot rush of pleasure hits you, and all your thoughts dissipate. you grab vi's hair, digging your fingers into the dyed locks, keeping her face where you want it. "mmm, fuck, just like that—vi, just like that, please—"

she slaps your thigh again, but you relent only slightly. she licks up your slick, adjusting her position so she can fuck you better with her fingers, and you tremble under her as she curls her digits into your sweetest spots, wave after wave of bliss washing over you with each touch. the bed creaks like the weak boards under your mattress might snap, but you don't even hear it. "god."

once you're not shaking so much anymore, the high peaking and falling past, she comes up and kisses you — and you know your face and body are full of inky lipstick marks by now. it's almost romantic.

then, it's over.

vi pulls away, letting go of you and sitting up.

"ugh." you slump into the bed, hiding the pang of hurt that fills you. "you . . . don't want me to do you? or . . get you a drink?"

"not tonight. think i'm wasted enough." vi wipes her mouth off, stretching her neck to one side till there's a pop — and gets off the bed. you notice how her lips are entirely clean of the onyx that they were. "hey, you sure you don't want me to pay you?"

and there it is. the moment of intimacy dissolves like a grain of sugar into the vastness of the sea. it's home time.

"no, it's fine." you wave her off, turning away. you watch discreetly through your mirror as she looks around at the little box you live in.

"are you sure? . . i can cough something up." she asks again, and though you're slightly offended, you know what she means. your place is a single room that's barely a six by ten, small rickety bed and a desk with the mirror, a rack for the few clothes you own, and nothing else really. you share a bathroom and kitchen with two other girls across the street. and you have vi each night.

you need nothing else. "yeah, i'm good. and i don't do that anymore, anyway." you tell her.

"alright." vi pulls her clothes back on, and you're just a little sad to see her body covered away again. you did love getting your eyefuls of those slight curves and sleek muscles, and the tatts. "why'd you stop, though? working, i mean."

you think of how you used to feel, seeing clients and letting them fawn over you for the night. handing you a wad of cash and walking out at the end of it. back then, it was what you needed— but the moment you didn't need it anymore, you’d signed out.

you'd only agreed to hook up with vi because it seemed harmless enough. made your nights a little less lonelier, gave you some company. you hadn’t expected money or to catch feelings.

the answer to her question rises up your throat, but you find it a bit ironic — and you know vi is a good person. if she finds out that you're yearning for more than what's between you two at the moment, she may just see herself out of your life, so as to not hurt you. and you didn't want that. you wanted vi, even if it was only like this.

the real answer to her question rests at the base of your throat like an ache, throbbing a little along with the parts of your body vi had gripped a little too harshly. i didn't like to feel used.

but you shrug your shoulders and say, "well, i just didn't need it anymore."

vi doesn't answer, only turns to leave. "will you come tomorrow?" you ask, trying not to sound like you want her to come.

"probably." vi answers, out of the door already. "stay safe, princess." then she's gone, and you're alone again.

the dreary darkness of your room surrounds you once more, and you feel hot and sticky. ignoring the discomfort, you slump into your bed again, realizing how painfully little you know about vi. yes, she's jinx's older sister. yes, she's nothing like her. yes, she's beautiful — handsome; ghost-pale, dark red roots showing through the dyed black hair, sad eyes lit up with need.

you loved those nights when she would let you reciprocate and make her feel good. when she would ask for a drink or two. when she would ask to stay the night, and you'd let her sleep on your chest. she wrapped her arms around your body then, holding you both like she's protecting you and like she wants you to keep her safe. and you'd hold her, stroke her hair, and stay awake praying the morning comes late.

and then there are nights like tonight — where she's quieter and more distant. where she leaves too soon. like she's holding herself back. it infuriates you, almost. you want to ask her what she wants. you want to tell her what you want.

shifting your stare from the ceiling to your door that hangs ajar, you let out a heavy sigh. next time, maybe you'll ask her. maybe you'll tell her. maybe. if the surge of body-and-mind desperation to make the moment last long enough doesn't overthrow everything else, you will. but you know it'll be easier said than done.

vi melts you like shaved ice in the sun. she softens you, turns you sweet. you feel alive with those dead eyes, calloused hands and busted lips on you. being wanted by her gives you a sense of meaning. and you'll do anything if it means holding her a little longer. 

if that meant this, simply getting to be her good girl for a night and nothing more — then so be it.

a/n: part two, anyone? lmk if you want it, might turn this into a series :P💓

[brown-little-robin]

gathering those jojo screenshots from my various folders reminded me how much I loved the campy, wonderful earnestness of the first two arcs. I love three and four very much, but there was something about Phantom Blood especially that was just. incredibly charming to me. and I miss it. I can't even name it but I miss it 😔

[miyukisu]

Need Your Lips On Mine .ᐟ

❤︎ | You'd think he'd be more enthusiastic to get his hands on you because of the whole 'secret relationship' thing, but maybe it's time to turn the tables (2.3k wc) ╰ feat. osamu dazai (bsd) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 9 | kinktober masterlist

tags - reader works at the cafe, dom/sub dynamics, dazai is mean and annoying, edging, implied mutual masturbation, semi-public smex, toys, light bdsm (he's bound by the hands lol), blowjob, no p in v, p*rn with plot, reader is feisty, profanity

minors do not interact

"Take your hand off... I swear... they're gonna catch us sooner or later."

Your words fell on deaf ears as one bandaged hand kept itself under your skirt and on your ass. "If you keep quiet, then maybe no one will get caught. Hm?"

You let up, settling for nasty side glances at him every once in a while instead. Of course, you were met with Dazai's cheeky smile. This bastard really thought that by having a secret relationship—he could be annoying anytime he wanted as long as it was done in secret.

His job required to keep the existence of your relationship confidential—at least that's what he said. You were the cashier at the cafe located beneath their detective agency's office. Dazai was a detective, that's all you knew and that was more than enough apparently.

A secret is a secret, you figured.

Kunikida was starting to give you weird looks from the booth. You flashed an awkward smile and tried waving at him, failing to look normal.

Well... maybe Kunikida knows.

Why else would Dazai be standing behind you while you were at the register? It was either you were up to no good or Dazai's begging you to forget about his hefty tab.

"Who're you waving at?" he whispers into your ear. You failed to realize how close he leaned down to you.

"Kunikida. He's starting to realize something funny's going on."

"Funny you say?" Dazai repeats before humming in thought. Whatever it was that was running through the detective's head—it probably wasn't anything good or innocent.

Dazai finally lets go of your ass, opting to drape an arm across your shoulders instead. It wasn't anything unusual—surprisingly—because Dazai has been known to be 'friendly' with the cafe staff.

He calls the attention of all the customers i.e. Kunikida, Atsushi, Kenji, and Ranpo who is sound asleep. "I'll be accompanying our cute little cashier on her break. Don't miss us!"

It was highly unlikely that anyone would. Kunikida doesn't even give him the time of day while Atsushi offered an uneasy smile. Kenji was his usual upbeat self and Ranpo—was still fast asleep.

────────────

It felt like an eternity of tongues clashing and breathless whispers blending into each other. Your hands were all over his lanky build while his hands remained firm on your behind. If you were to guess which body part he liked the most on a woman—you'd probably get it right.

Dazai pulled away first—not that he was breathless or anything; he just wanted to see what expression you had on your face.

"Someone's eager," he says in a lilted tone.

"Oh stop it. You disappear for a week... A WEEK!"

He laughs it off—disappearing for a week is business as usual for him. "Shhh... I'm here now though, aren't I? Besides, I find it quite cute how excited you are to get your hands on me."

That earned him a weak punch on the chest from you. "You're so annoying."

Dazai lets out another small laugh, amused by your irritation at him. "Oh, darling. You haven't seen the worst of it."

Knowing him and all the shit he pulls, those words should've made you run for the hills soon as you heard it. Dazai leans in, breath fanning the sweaty skin of your neck. It felt cool against the humid air of the cafe's storage room.

"I've got an idea," he whispers. "Don't move, okay?"

You hear a slight ruffling. Perhaps he was retrieving something from his coat pocket. Then, you feel something cold—something metallic—drag along your thigh. Though, you were unsure what it could be.

The feeling kept getting higher and higher, until it was at a place where you most dreaded it would reach. Dazai smiled as he dragged the unknown metallic object against the fabric of your panties.

"Wanna guess what that is, darling?"

You had a hint, but you decided not to indulge him in his silly games.

"You don't know?" he asks. "Well, I hope this helps!"

Dazai, skilled with his fingers, swiped the fabric out of the way and plunged the vibrator in one fluid motion.

"Good thing you got insanely wet from kissing me huh?"

Your first instinct was to close your legs, but Dazai was quick to put a knee between them. "W-what the fuck are you doing?"

"Thought I'd make things exciting," he says with an irritatingly bright smile. "Also because I have to go now."

Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him down to your level. "The fuck you mean you're going? You're seriously leaving me high and dry after basically ghosting me?"

He gives you a half-assed 'apologetic' smile. "I won't be too long. You can do anything to me once I come back."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

────────────

The rest of your shift was—to say the least—downright miserable. Of course, the stupid vibrator could be controlled by him. You weren't sure if it was purely coincidence or if he was secretly watching you, but the damn thing seemed to turn on whenever a customer would come up to the counter.

On the times you thought you could finally sit down and relax a bit, he'll make sure to turn it up a notch and give you a good surprise.

He gave you no reprieve as his antics continued until your shift ended and it was time to clean up. You were the only employee left because it just so happens to be the day when the most arduous clean up task fell into your care.

Once you heard the bell at the door ring and the familiar set of footsteps, you were ready to yell a certain man's ear off.

"Hey, darling."

"You son of a—"

Turning around, you were met with a smiling Dazai with a bouquet of flowers in his clutches. Normally, any other woman receiving flowers from a lover would be over the moon, but not you. Dazai was quite the unconventional man. Flowers were a tricky thing to interpret.

His smile turned lopsided before he slowly approached you. "I got you flowers."

"I can see that."

He chuckles again. "Can't you at least act like you're happy about it?"

"I don't want flowers," you exclaim.

He sighs, placing he beautiful arrangement on the counter beside you. "What do you want then, pretty?"

"You."

Dazai laughs a little louder this time as if what you said was so hilarious to him. "Me? Little ol' me? My sweet thing wants nothing else but me?"

"You're so annoying."

A large hand pats your unkempt hair. "Yes, I know, darling. You tell me almost everyday."

"Liar. I haven't seen you in a week. Besides—what the fuck is up with the vibrator? Do you know how many customers I've had toda—"

He silences you once more, placing a slender finger over your lips. "You get to do anything you want to me now though. Isn't that right, darling?"

The realization hits a bit too late, but it does, and small smile creeps on your face. This was going to be revenge for disappearing and for the stunt earlier.

You ask him to get the vibe out and he obeys without complaint—the metal apparatus stuffed in his pocket again. You hadn't realized how drenched you were until it was pulled out. But that doesn't matter right now. You were a woman on a mission.

No words left your mouth as you made quick work of his belt. Dazai's eyes never left your hands as he smiled to himself.

"Getting to the good part already hm?" he insinuates. But you don't respond, only silently walking behind him to bind his hands with his own belt. You've learned plenty of things from him and this was one of those.

"Ah hah... we're doing that kind of thing huh?" he says, continuing to talk seemingly to himself.

You walk right in front of him again, grabbing his collar like you did earlier today. With his face closer now, he should understand the situation he's in. "Be a good boy for me, okay?" you say before planting a soft kiss on his chapped lips.

Thrill and excitement coursed through every fiber of his being as you roughly pushed him back against the counter. He made himself weightless and easy to push around because this was entertainment for him as much as it was for you.

But the glint in your eyes tells him this wasn't simply any kind of entertainment for you. You had a plan and him not knowing anything for once gave him a rush he had gotten only in the past.

With the strength you had in your arms, you pried his vest and button up open—albeit you had to carefully unbutton some of the stubborn ones.

"It's kinda hot seeing you take control for once," he says.

Once all of the buttons were out of the way, you were met by his mostly bandaged abdomen. Even you were unsure of what was beneath these strips, but he was adamant to keep them on.

You ran your palms over his body, stopping at his heaving chest. "I've never seen you out of breath before. Are you that excited?"

"Am I? You should feel my dick," he counters.

You try your hardest to stifle a laugh by kissing his bandaged chest instead. The soft gesture seemingly had a soothing effect on him as his breathing slowed a bit and his expression mellowed out—like you had put him in a trance.

Then the kisses went lower and lower—his chest, stomach, until you were just above the hem of his trousers. His adam's apple bobbed, swallowing in anticipation.

"Wow," you mutter, palming at his aching erection. "You weren't lying huh?"

His laugh came out choppier than usual as if his typical air of confidence had been blown away. Dazai tried playing it cool. "Can you blame me?"

"Guess not," you shrug nonchalantly before working on the button of his pants. Thanks to having the belt off, his bottoms came off pretty easily—not that you needed it all the way off.

Palming at his hardening cock after the thin fabric of his boxers made his mouth water and his palms clammy. Even Dazai was starting to wonder what the fuck was going on with him. Perhaps it was the thick air inside the stuffy room or because someone was finally putting his ass in its place.

Whichever it was, it only served to make him exhilarated.

"This looks pretty painful," you coo at him. Dazai would have loved to gently caress your head as you knelt in front of him so sweetly, but alas, his hands were still bound behind his back.

He found it hotter how well you restrained him actually.

"Yeah, looks like you should do something about it no?"

In response, you pull the pesky fabric out of he way, freeing his leaking cock. Truth be told, you weren't expecting for him to be fully hard after all that. Dazai was rather... hard to impress—for a lack of a better term.

You swipe his weeping tip with a thumb before spreading pre all along his length. Looking up at him, you ask the question: "My hand or my mouth?"

"Be serious, darling. You know you need both to get all of me."

"Fine. Be a smartass and you get neither."

He lets out a labored breath. "Jeez. Fine. I want your mouth. Pretty please?"

For as much of a pain in the ass he is, hearing him be so compliant for once made him hard to deny. You rewarded him with a small kitty lick on his tip—to test the waters—before licking the underside of his length.

You've learned to pay attention to those spots. Normally, Dazai was good at hiding things, but it was easy to catch on his sensitive points. In the bedroom, with you, he was an open book.

You watched him—how his eyes were fixated on you—while you went down on him. It made you particularly satisfied seeing him throw his head back in pleasure.

It egged you on to fit more of him and to go faster. You gagged more than once and it was messy—really fucking messy.

Just how he liked it.

He had grown uncharacteristically quiet which was usually a good sign in this case. It meant you were doing good—so good in fact, that it shut him up.

Feeling his dick twitch, you knew he was painfully close. But he isn't getting that orgasm he craves so easily. No way.

Before he could bust his load, you pull away—a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his reddish tip.

Innocently, you stared up at him as if you've done nothing wrong—as if you didn't blue ball him just now.

"Hah... darling... I was so close..."

He sounded so breathless... so desperate. His heart fell to his stomach when you got off your knees and dusted yourself off. Was that it? Was he going to be left standing there with his dick out and aching?

You turn away from him, walking a couple of steps. He could tell you were fiddling with your uniform, but he was concerned more about his predicament down there.

"Thought you were the only one who could edge me?"

He tries to get out of the restraint while you weren't looking, but that blowjob quite literally sucked the strength out of his body.

But all of his movements were halted once you turned around, blouse open and tits out all for him to see.

"Well, two can play that game, darling. Sit tight while you watch me, alright? Gonna play with myself for a bit. Hope ya don't mind."

You tried copying his sing-song tone, but no matter what kind of lighthearted tone you use, there probably isn't one that can fix the frustrated frown on his face.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note I'm kinda tired of writing p in v so here you go!! Some good ol' edging and teasing for the soul!!

[ann1-wr1tes]

Nanami Kento NSFW Alphabet

Dynamics: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spicy Alphabet

Warnings: Adult themes, obviously smut, mentions of giving head, light bondage

A/N: So this is a little apology for not writing anything for ya'll. I've been busy but hope you guys enjoy this!

-----

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

-Kento is incredibly attentive and sweet after having sex. Honestly he always wants to check in with you after, to make sure you're okay and to make sure he knows if there was anything you didn't like. Then of course he's quick to get you some water and perhaps one of your favored snacks. Then he likes to run a bath for you and help clean you up. While he cleans you, he's always sure to press kisses everywhere he can. If there are any bruises anywhere, he'll always be extra attentive with those.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

-His favorite body part of his partner would be your tits. Doesn't matter what size, color, or shape. He is a man who can appreciate some boobs...respectfully of course. Though if you asked him he'd be too much of a gentleman to ever fully admit that.

-On himself her particularly likes his hands. After all, he can do so much with them. He can use them to smooth down your body, gently run through your hair, or of course he would finger fuck you until your crying.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

-He honestly doesn't care to make too big of a mess so he definitely prefers to cum inside you. Of course, he'll wear a condom if you ask and i'll be honest, he's got a huge breeding kink.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-He 100% uses pictures of you from his wallet to jack off. It may seem innocent when he pulls out his wallet and looks upon all the pretty pictures he has of you but sometimes behind closed doors, he misses you so much that he can't help it. You're just too cute~

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

-I can imagine Kento has a little bit of experience but not a lot. He's a busy, busy man keeping up with his job and then going back to Jujutsu Tech so he probably doesn't get laid that often. Granted, he has watched some porn but its not a whole lot.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

-Any position where he can see your face. Though I do think his two favorites would be Missionary and Cowgirl. Missionary is nice and easy, not too complicated and he can still fuck you good while getting to look at all the pretty expressions and reactions you have.

-For Cowgirl he'd really like that when he's tried from a long day of work. He gets to hand over the reins to you a little while you slowly roll your hips over his. He loves planting his hands on your hips and helping you as your eyes roll into the back of your head and you succumb to your own pleasure.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

-Kento definitely is not the joking type when it comes to having sex. He may crack one mildly funny comment here or there but his main focus is on making you feel good.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

-Despite his lack of free time, he is always sure to clean himself up. Self care is important he likes to feel well groomed and clean for himself and you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

-In the moment Kento can be very sensual and romantic. His eyes are on you, watching your reactions, feeling you and your body. It can be very intimate and I think Kento is one of those guys who doesn't just fuck, he prefers to make love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

-Probably not too often, but often enough. Sometimes he can't come home until late at night and he feels the need to rub one out, or sometimes when you aren't around he takes matters into his own hands. But for the most part, he has you and his patience is incredibly strong so he'll wait for you if he has to.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

-Breeding kink. He 1000% has a breeding kink. He would never flat out tell you that he wants kids but if you ever went to him and told him that you desired to have a family, the man would jump on it so fast. There's just something about cumming inside you that gets him hard. I think he'd also like nipple play (giving and receiving). Oh and how could I forget..he'd also have a thing for bondage. With his tie or belt to be specific.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

-He definitely is not a huge fan of doing it in public or spaces where you could get caught. He definitely is more of the private type and just prefers the comfort of his or your house.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

-Oddly enough, you could be doing something as simple as washing dishes or folding laundry and he'd be turned on. There's something about doing simple, domestic things that gets him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

-He would never be too hard into choking. He's just not a huge fan and he doesn't like the idea of hurting you. He also isn't too keen on sharing you either. So no threesomes.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

-This man loves to give head. He absolutely adores it. There's just something about getting to bury his face into your wet heat for hours on end while rutting into the bed that does something to him. He finds it to be a form of stress relief and is one of his favorite ways to wind down after a long day.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

-I feel like it depends on his mood. Normally he's into slow and sensual. I'm talking about deep, passionate kisses, slow rolls of his hips, making sure you feel everything he's giving you. But if you ever decide to act like a brat or he just feels pent up and frustrated then he may go a bit rougher than usual. Of course if he's ever too rough with he'll always apologize and he probably feels too guilty to go too rough with it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

-Kento isn't a huge fan of quickies. I mean why rush it when he can have you all to himself? But if he really needed it, he wouldn't be completely opposed to having a quickie. But only for dire situations.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

-He's not too risky. He likes to play it safe and make sure you are comfortable. But if you ever wanted to try something new then he'd listen and consider it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

-It depends on how tired he is and how pent he is. I'd say he could last a good 3 rounds, taking about five minutes each. But at the end of the day I think it matters most about how long you can last? He'll stick it out for however long it takes you to cum, which trust me....it won't take too long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

-Not completely against toys but he doesn't own any himself. If you were to buy some he'd totally be fine with using them on you and it comes to himself you may need to convince him a little but he could never really say no to you...

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-If you are being a brat then he will 100% tease and hold back your orgasm. But in general, no. He's not too big of a tease.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

-Kento starts off quiet, maybe with a few hushed words here and there, a few assurances and compliments before he starts to breathe deeper. his breaths turn into small groans and pants and by the end of it I think you could get a few good moans out of him right before he cums.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

-As much as he hates it and is shameful of it, he steals your dirty panties. He just got so, so desperate one time and you weren't around. He needed something of you and he happened to find your dirty clothes bin. After that he became almost addicted. The scent of you lingering in his nose, the feel of your panties around his cock feels too good.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

-When soft i'd say he's about 6 inches and when hard he goes up to 7 inches. Its long-ish and girthy and can be a lot to take on sometimes. When he gets hard has a rosy red tip and one or two noticeable veins that run up and down his shaft.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

-His sex drive is on the average side but can be a bit high when he gets pent up. Sometimes he's so busy that he doesn't notice but as soon as he's with you all of the sudden his dick is hard and he has no idea what happened.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-He always waits for you to fall asleep first. No matter how tired he is he'll always make sure you are comfortable and safe in his arms. Sometimes he'll even read to you if you ask. His deep, soft voice lulls you to sleep as reads over endless words on pages from his favorite book.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!reader x bodyguard!joel miller

genre: super duper explicit smut, actress & bodyguard au, minors dni

word count: 4.5k

summary: an afterparty, weed, drinks, a grumpy bodyguard, and an eccentric actor. What can go wrong?

warnings: mlm dynamics, threesome, blossoming feelings, messy two-person blowjob, piv, polyamorous, dieter has a praise kink, hair pulling, bdsm dynamics, high sex, getting high, this is an au where sarah was never conceived sorry, petnames all around (good boy/girl, sweetheart, darlin, honey), guidance kink, handjob, implied age gap reader being the youngest and joel being the oldest

a/n: you voted and here it is! This can be considered as a continuation of the drabble I wrote but you don't need to read that in order to read this. It just takes place in the same universe. enjoy! If you want to see more adventures of bodyguard!joel and actress!reader feel free to send requests xx

Joel is a grump. 

He knows this. Everyone does. He’s been called many things before in this industry: unkind, an asshole, a fucker, a bummer, a grumpy old man. But despite all the negative feedback, he’s never been out of a job. When it comes to feeling safe and secure, everyone realizes that pleasantries aren't really a priority. After a while, he learned to let those remarks bounce off of him. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy having fun; it’s the fact that this industry is riddled with slimy, untrustworthy characters. You could be happily sharing a drink one moment, and the next you could find your drunken words being sold off to the highest bidder. He has a lot of stories, some of which he wishes he could forget about.

However, he's not a kid. Far from it, actually. So he also knows that not everyone fits the bill of assholery. He's met some nice people, worked for them, and thanks to those nice people, he met you— one of the biggest rising stars of your generation. You're actually quite kind— albeit a bit of a brat, but he's starting to realize that side of you might be reserved only for him. Most impressively, you've managed to knit yourself a loving, supportive circle. He met your family once and has a sneaking suspicion they had something to do with your good manners.

Family. He misses his. Tommy still lived in Austin, running a not-so-shabby bar. 

Joel used to pride himself on not getting involved in his clients' affairs, but with you, that proved difficult.

A sea of people crashes into him, pushing him in the opposite direction of where he's trying to go. These Hollywood parties, they're always the same - loud music, annoying lights, and foaming glitter always coming from somewhere. He catches a whiff of champagne and strawberries. Rolling his eyes, he helps a director he barely knows who stumbles and nearly collapses on the shiny marble floors. With one swift motion, he grips her torso and lifts her back up. She slurs a drunken thank you and moseys off.

He hates it when you drag him to parties, and he hates it even more when you disappear. By some miracle, he spots you sitting down within the awfully lit room. You're wearing a mermaid-style dress (at least, that's what you told him prior to the event), which hugs your curves in all the right places. The fabric is covered in pearls, giving it a shimmering, iridescent quality that catches the light and reflects it into his eyes - thank fucking god, or else he suspects he'd never find you in this crowd.

His relief in finding you is short-lived when he sees who you’re sitting with. 

Fucking Dieter Bravo. 

You know he doesn’t like the man. Of course, you would sit with him just to spite Joel. That’s what he hopes this is anyway, he’s praying to every god he can think of (which isn’t many) that this isn’t a blooming friendship, or something else. He doesn’t think he can handle seeing that man more than he has to. 

Ironically, Joel actually used to work with Dieter. It only lasted for about a week as Dieter was just too unpredictable and chaotic for him. A complete hedonist who was used to getting what he wants. Before Joel could resign, Dieter had fired him. Which was good, because Joel wasn’t sure if he would’ve actually gone and done it. 

Joel feels a mixture of excitement and anxiety as your entire face lights up upon seeing him. With an open smile, you wave frantically and point to the couch across from the two of you. It's a tight fit, and his knees brush against both yours and Dieter's as he sits. The actor is holding a joint loosely between his fingers, looking up to Joel and nodding in a way that resembles an informal greeting. Joel notices the vibrant pattern of his button-up, the chain around his neck, and the rings on his fingers. Dieter takes a drag then offers it to you. Your gaze briefly meets Joel's before you take it from him. However, you don't immediately bring it to your lips.

“Where were you?” Joel asks loudly, trying to get his words over the sound of the music. “You can’t bring me to these things and then just disappear on me.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” you answer with an apologetic smile. Joel narrows his eyes and you bring the neatly rolled joint to your glossy lips. You take a deep, long inhale. He watches the way your body seems to melt unconsciously. You close your eyes. “I just saw Dee and you know his habit of disappearing as soon as you blink. Had to pounce him before that happened.” 

Joel’s eyes drop to where Dieter slides an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes fixed on Joel. Your eyes flutter open and much to Joel’s surprise, you extend the joint to him. 

“Don’t bother, sweetheart,” Dieter says, his lips too close to your cheek. Joel bristles unknowingly. “He has a stick up his ass.” 

“Dieter!” you hiss, glaring daggers. “Behave.” 

“I don’t smoke on the job.” Joel says, a bit smugly and enjoying the other man’s prominent pout. “Unlike some, I’m a professional.” 

Dieter scoffs. The joint still lingers between your fingers, your gaze snapping to Joel. You accusatorily point at him, your brows drawn together. “And you—” you warn. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You’re off the clock remember? I invited you here so you would loosen up a little.” 

What? 

“What?” he blinks rapidly. “Why on earth would I need loosenin’ up? And why would I want to loosen up with you lot? This ain’t exactly my scene honey.” 

“Because we’re friends, smartass.” you chide. The burnt tip of the cigarette is now closer to your fingers. With a sigh, Joel finally takes it, which provokes a burst of laughter from Dieter. 

“She has you on a leash!” Dieter points out, fingers digging into your hip and moving over the pearls. “That’s fucking adorable.” 

Joel grunts, “Shut up.” he takes the joint clumsily, holding it up to his lips. It’s been a while since he’s done this. When he does he usually prefers the privacy of his own home. Joel ignores the way your eyes are fixed on him, two wide eager eyes eating him up from head to toe. 

He takes a deep inhale, his lungs expanding with smoke. Joel can taste the champagne you left behind. Goosebumps rise over his skin, a tingle, and a buzz making him groan. He allows the smoke to linger inside him, then, without parting from the joint much, he exhales. It’s very subtle, but he notices both you and Dieter taking deep breaths, filling yourselves with his breath. He’s amused. His lips twitch as he takes another drag. Then he extends it back to Dieter. The actor doesn’t waste much time and wraps his lips around the butt of the joint deliberately slow. Joel fights the urge to roll his eyes. Dieter takes a deep breath, exhaling cannabis in a way that the smoke doesn’t move forward, it pours from between his lips, like a dragon’s mouth. 

Joel doesn’t think much of it, now feeling more relaxed than ever, he says, “You look surprisingly cleaned up. They groomed you well.” 

“Does it look like I care what you think?” Dieter snaps back, and Joel frowns. 

“I think the word you’re looking for is thank you,” you say, words directed at Dieter. Your eyes flit between the two tense men. “Also I'm starting to think you two have some history together.” 

“Didn’t your knight in shining armor tell you?” Dieter grins, rather smug. “He used to work for me.” 

You turn to Joel, brows pinched together with confusion. “You did?” 

Joel rolls his eyes, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up under your gaze. “It was a long time ago.” 

“I fired him.” 

“How come?” 

“Too distracting.” 

Joel breathes a little too fast, the air catching in his throat. He clears his throat, his veins alive with tension. It almost feels like it’s the only three of them now. The rest of the room fading and turning black. Joel leans forward, the already tight space becoming even tighter. 

“Excuse me?” Joel asks, his speech slurred. “What do you mean “too distractin’”?” 

Neither of them answers you. Actors, he thinking begrudgingly, a puff of air parting his lips. Dieter brings the joint to your lips and without taking it from him, you look at Joel. He watches as your lips brush against the length of Dieter’s fingers. Annoyance brews in his stomach. 

“Is he like this with you too? Oblivious?” Dieter asks you. You grin, teeth shining under the dim lights and you nod. The actor’s tongue pokes out from between his lips and swipes over his bottom lip. “Poor baby.” 

“You two are startin’ to get on my nerves,” Joel grumbles, crossing his arms across his broad chest. 

You stick your tongue out and Joel has half the urge to grab it between his fingers and teach you a lesson. He hadn’t noticed, but the joint had made its way back to him. Slightly confused and disoriented, he finishes it off. The last bit of it burning his throat and lungs. He’s incredibly flustered, heat crawling up from his chest to his cheeks. He doesn’t miss the way you and Dieter steal glances at each other, smiling giddily. 

Finally, you find Joel’s gaze, a Cheshire-cat like grin plastered on your face—he’s slightly creeped out by it actually. 

“How about we show you what we mean?” 

Joel should’ve said no. This is the last time he’s ever coming to one of these damn parties. 

Joel wasn’t thinking much when Dieter led all of you to one of the many bedrooms in the residence. Your hand was clutched tightly around his, and per instinct, he had held on to you just as tight. And as soon as the three of them entered the stupidly large bedroom with an equally stupidly large bed, he found himself sitting on the edge with his pants down. The two actors knelt between his legs, eyes hungry and mouths flooded. 

He has to admit, it’s a rather enticing view. 

Dieter wraps his fingers around the base while you kiss the inside of Joel’s thigh. Heat settles at the base of his spine, his cock twitching and growing thanks to Dieter’s slow strokes. You drag your lips up, kissing his shaft before swirling your tongue around the head. A strangled moan leaves him. Joel’s gaze drops, only to see Dieter staring back at him. He holds his breath as the other grins from one ear to the other. 

“You like that?” he coos, darting his tongue out. He licks a clean stripe up, the curve of his nose brushing against yours. “God, the number of times I came in my pants thinking about this. . .” 

Joel’s quick to follow up, “You thought about this?” 

Your sudden bubble of laughter makes him frown. His lips become a tight line, his teeth clenched as he grinds the molars together. He watches as you ignore him and pull away. You cradle Dieter’s cheek, and as if he read your mind, the actor leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. Joel tenses. His skin taut over muscle. His cock stands with attention, beads of precum rolling down his length. The thought of his taste lingering on your tongue, being passed to Dieter—his chest heaves, maybe he is too old for this. 

He sees Dieter shoving his tongue between your lips and you moan into his mouth, Dieter swallows the noises you make eagerly. Joel is surprised he’s not feeling any jealousy or protectiveness. Usually, when the actor attempts to make passes at you he puffs up like a rooster. But not his time. Dieter cups your face with two hands, tilting your head so he can kiss you deeper. Only then it dawns on Joel that the reason he was bothered before wasn’t that he hated the actor—though he still found him annoying—but because he wanted to be included. He almost laughs. Loneliness truly is a bitch. His fingers twitch and he makes a move to cup himself, he pouts when his hand is batted away by no one other than you. 

“No,” you say wetly with swollen lips. “We’re going to take care of you. Isn’t that right, Dee?” the second half of the sentence is directed at the actor who looks just as debauched. But he manages to nod anyway. Then your gaze moves back up to Joel. “Okay?” 

He’s lost for words for a brief moment, mouth opening and closing before he can find his speech again. “Okay.” 

It’s messy. Debauched. Downright sinful. And Joel is ninety percent sure this is all a dream and his alarm is about to burst through the speaker of his phone. Dieter purses his lips and spits into his palm, coating Joel’s shaft with a generous amount. You kiss the head and swallow him halfway, your nostrils flaring as you try to take more of him. Joel’s hand lifts to comfort you but Dieter beats him to it. The actor leans into your ear, smiling slyly. He pulls down the straps of your dress and exposes your breasts. Joel’s mouth feels dry all of a sudden. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Dieter purrs, Joel can barely hear him. “Just breathe through your nose, don’t rush it. He’s a big boy, isn’t he? Flatten your tongue and swallow. That’s it. . .” Joel’s arms buckle as you do what you’re told, his eyes rolling back. Dieter kisses your cheek and kneads your breasts, thumbs wiping over the pebbled nipples. “You’re making him so happy right now. Such a talented girl.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Joel groans, slightly thrusting into your mouth. Dieter meets his gaze and winks, a wide grin spread across his handsome face. 

Handsome. Joel finds Dieter handsome, always has. Though he always assumed he found him handsome in a more general way, the same way he found Oscar Isaac handsome. Some people just are. But he’s starting to think he might like the infuriating actor a bit more than he thought. Or maybe it’s just from the heat of the moment and the weed still buzzing in his veins. Regardless, he’s enjoying the view very much. God, what has he gotten himself into? 

You swirl your tongue and hollow your cheeks. More praise drips from Dieter’s lips. Without thinking much of it, Joel reaches out and touches the side of Dieter’s face. The actor stills for a moment, brows furrowing, a delicious shade of red coloring his cheeks. Joel drags the pad of his thumb down Dieter’s cheek and then cups him tenderly. 

“Good boy,” Joel says before his filter kicks in. “You’re doin’ so well too.” 

Dieter’s face is priceless. He’s stunned into silence, eyes wide and round, lips parted. A low chuckle trembles within Joel’s chest, he continues to trace his thumb up and down the contours of his cheek. Dieter leans into the touch ever so slightly, eyelids fluttering. You must notice the change in the air because you pull away and drag a pointed tongue down Joel’s length. Then you grip Dieter’s chin and guide him down. 

“Have a taste, Dee.”

Joel watches with bated breath as you guide Dieter down towards his aching member. The actor's lips part and his breath hitches as he takes in the sight before him. He looks up at Joel, his eyes dark, before finally taking him in his mouth, tongue swirling and lips tight. The actor's eyes never leave Joel's as he bobs his head, taking more and more of him into his mouth. Joel’s legs shake, his lungs expand, it feels too much, everything tumbling onto him like an avalanche. 

Joel's head falls back, his eyes closing as he feels the warmth of Dieter's mouth. He can hear the wet sounds of his mouth moving over him, the way his lips slide up and down his length, and he can't help but let out a low moan.

You reach out and grab Joel's hand, entwining your fingers. Your touch electric. Leaning over you capture Joel's lips with your own. He moans into your mouth, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

Dieter pulls back, a thin line of saliva connecting his lips to Joel's length. He looks up at Joel with a wicked grin, before taking him back into his mouth. Parting away from you, Joel groans, hips bucking up involuntarily. But when he sees Dieter grinding into his palm, his cock hard and aching under his pants, Joel tugs on his hair, fucking his mouth with shallow strokes. 

Joel’s eyes go wide when the other man chokes, the sound of it equivalent to someone raking their nails over his body. His stomach flips. Something raw and visceral awakening inside him. He thrusts deeper, the head going down the other’s throat. Dieter chokes again and Joel moans, loudly. His heart beating too fast. 

With the corner of his eyes, Joel watches your movements with a parted mouth. You dip lower and drag your lips up his shaft, your mouth meeting Dieter’s. You both mouth at him simultaneously, your tongues dancing. Joel fists the sheets. His eyes fixed where his cock disappears and reappears between their lips. The two moan at the same time, the reverberations seeping into the sensitive skin of his cock and making him shudder. His muscles grow taut. Precum heavily coating both of their lips. Dieter dips his tongue into the slit groaning at the taste, and you unbutton the actor’s pants, sliding your hand under his boxer briefs. 

“Oh god,” Joel swallows thickly, his voice hoarse. “I’m gonna come—” he can feel his body tensing, his breaths coming in short gasps as he gets closer and closer.

You pull away and Dieter follows. Instinctively, Joel pulls at Dieter’s hair, willing the other back to his cock. His cock twitches when Dieter’s eyes roll back at the blossoming pain. You climb up the bed, cradling Joel’s face before slipping his tongue into his mouth. It’s a quick one but leaves him breathless nonetheless. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you mutter, lips moving over his beard. “Will you, please?” 

Joel helps you up to your feet, his hands still shaking slightly as he pushes down your dress, finishing what Dieter had started. He dips down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. His cock drips at the way you moan for him. Dieter stands behind him, his fingers trailing down the center of Joel's back as he helps him out of his shirt. 

You reach for Dieter's pants, feeling the heat rising in your chest as you gaze into his eyes. He watches you intently, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. You slide the zipper down slowly, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his boxer briefs. 

Joel steps back, allowing you to guide Dieter towards the bed. He climbs up first, propping himself up against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him. You kneel on the bed beside Dieter, your fingers reaching for the waistband of his underwear. You tug them down slowly, revealing his cock, already hard and throbbing. 

Joel's breath catches in his throat as he watches you take Dieter's cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head before sliding down the shaft. Then you pull away from him with a pop and lay down next to him, your head resting on his hip. Dieter’s hands smooth down your body, spreading your thighs. He holds Joel’s gaze as the older man’s mouth suddenly feels dry at the sight of you. 

Joel moves between your legs, his fingers tracing over your slick folds, making you moan softly. He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly pushes inside you. He can feel you getting wetter with every inch. You claw at Dieter’s bicep and he shushes you, one hand moving to the swell of your breasts and holding it gingerly. The small hairs across Joel’s body stand up when you let out a sharp whimper. 

“Dieter,” you whine, eyes glossy. “H-He feels so good.” 

God, you’re shaking around him, your pretty pussy squeezing him. Joel grunts. 

“I bet he does,” Dieter murmurs, eyes looking at where you and Joel connect. He’s only halfway in. “Want me to play with your pretty clit, baby? You’re taking him so well.” 

You nod quickly and Dieter doesn’t make you repeat yourself. Joel swallows. Dieter begins to draw quick, tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp, your lips barely touching Dieter’s shaft. Joel feels you clenching around him, walls fluttering thanks to the actor. Dieter makes a point of brushing the tips of his fingers while attending to your need, and every time Joel feels it, his cock throbs. He buries himself deep inside you, forcing the air from your lungs. Your back arches beautifully, your nails leaving crescent moon-shaped marks into Dieter’s skin. 

Joel's breathing is ragged, his eyes locked onto yours as he pumps into you harder and harder. Your eyes flutter closed. His fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to the bed as he pounds into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. 

“Hold me,” you cry out, head turning to Dieter. Joel’s thrusts become harder, faster. “Shit—He’s in so deep.” 

Dieter obliges, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame as your body sways back and forth with the strength of Joel’s thrusts. 

“You’re taking him so well, sweetheart,” Dieter groans, his own cock heavy and dark between his legs. “You look so beautiful with him buried between his legs.” suddenly his eyes snap to Joel’s, and the older man falters a bit, his pacing becoming uneven. “Doesn’t she?” he asks him. 

“She does,” Joel grunts out a response. 

You let out a whimper, Joel can feel you convulsing. Your body growing taut and tense, you’re close. Joel’s not that far from it himself, dangling over the edge.  

“She’s such a good girl,” Dieter continues, eyes never leaving Joel’s. “Isn’t she?” 

“Jesus, she is. So fuckin’ good to me. Always.” 

And with that, Joel witnesses your fall from heaven.

He watches with awe as you writhe and convulse around him, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Your body trembles with every pulse of pleasure that courses through you, and your breaths come in short gasps. You arch your back, a low moan escapes your lips, and your body tenses up around Joel's length. Your fingers dig into Dieter’s forearms s as you ride out the waves of ecstasy that ripple through your body. Joel can feel your inner walls squeezing him tightly, and he groans.

Joel can feel your wetness coating his cock, and the slickness only intensifies the pleasure he feels. He continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening as he chases his own release. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear Dieter praising you both, though mostly you, and he shudders. 

Your orgasm starting to subside, he feels your body relaxing against him. He slows his pace, savoring the feeling of your hot, slick walls wrapped tightly around him. He wants to make this last as long as possible, to make you feel every inch of him. However, Joel knows nothing lasts forever. 

He’s right at the edge when he pulls out, spilling over your stomach. His hot breath slides over your skin, his head buried between your breasts. Unthinking, he presses heavy, wet kisses. The tremors of his orgasm slowly fades and Joel realizes that among the three of them, there’s still one person left unsatisfied. 

Joel looks up to Dieter. Despite his cock still being hard, the head an angry shade of red, he looks content with just peppering the top of your head with kisses. But he must’ve sensed the bodyguard staring because Dieter’s eyes meet his. 

“You didn’t come,” Joel states. 

Dieter rolls his eyes, “No shit,” he follows it up with a shrug. “But it’s okay. Seeing you two going at it was satisfying enough.” 

Joel moves his jaw, thinking, contemplating on what to do. Your lids are heavy as your eyes move back and forth. Watching. The older man comes to a decision and peels himself away from you. 

“Can I?” he asks, pointing at Dieter’s dick. The actor flushes. 

“Can you what?” he answers, voice squeaky. 

“Um. . .Jerk you off. It’s only fair.” 

Joel reaches out a hand and tentatively wraps it around Dieter's shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. Dieter lets out a small moan. His fingers start moving up and down, slowly at first, getting a feel for Dieter's size and shape. Joel has done this with another once or twice before and he can sense his confidence that was already hanging by a thread slowly dissolving. He looks up at Dieter who is already staring at him with half hooded eyes.   

“Is this good?” Joel asks, licking his lips. 

“Fuck yes. I’ll take whatever you give me.” 

Joel’s eyes widen at the admission. He tightens his grip and strokes him faster. Your hand comes up to Dieter’s chest, caressing flushed skin with a smile. You lean closer and kiss his neck, which Dieter hums gratefully. Joel feels the heat emanating from Dieter's body, and the slight tremble in his legs as Joel picks up the pace. 

"Good boy," Joel murmurs, watching as Dieter's eyes close and his mouth falls open. "So well behaved than from what I give him credit for."

Dieter lets out a soft whimper, his hips bucking up into Joel's hand. Joel adjusts his grip, tightening his fingers around Dieter's cock as he works him harder. Dieter drips all over his fingers and he uses it to lubricate his movements.

"You're so hard," Joel whispers, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. His gaze falls on you with slight envy, a tingle spreading throughout his lips. A desire to lay his lips on the other man and feel his frantic pulse for himself is a strong one, but he swallows it down. "You want to come, don't you?"

Dieter nods frantically, his breathing ragged. Joel can feel his own cock twitching. 

"That's it, let go," Joel encourages, stroking him faster and swiping his palm over the head. "Come for us."

With a loud groan, Dieter's body tenses, and Joel can feel the hot spurt of cum as it lands on his hand and on Dieter's stomach. Joel keeps jerking him through his orgasm, murmuring words of encouragement as Dieter's body shakes with pleasure.

Finally, as Dieter's breathing evens out, Joel releases him, wiping his hand on the bedsheet. Dieter looks up at him with a dazed expression, a small smile on his lips.

"Thanks," he says, his voice hoarse.

Joel exhales a stuttered breath, not really knowing what else to say. "Anytime."

“Awwww,” you chime in giddily which gets on Joel’s nerves. “Look at my two boys getting along.” 

[george228732]

I'VE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT! COMISSIONS!

HELLO, HELLO! THE NAME'S HOURGLASS! I AM SURE YOU ALREADY KNOW!

Golly Gee! I am so happy to see you all again! Here I am! Here I am! I apologize for speaking in caps beforehand! I was just so excited to see this day come by! I shall be more calm now.

...

...

...

Hm... I feel like something is missing here...

Oh, I know! Music! Let me edit a video one sec...!

Ah! That's more dynamic! I consider this my personal theme! Although, obviously, it isn't mine! You can check the original song HERE! I am not some kind of thief!

Ahem! Anyways, anyways! I am here to show a project me and my creator have been working for a while!

And that is...

*Drumbeat*

ART COMISSIONS! WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL!

My prices are listed below, along with what I am willing to draw!

For 5 USD, I can make a sketch of the character you want me to draw! Easy peasy, Easy Peasy!

For 10 USD, I can make a colored version of it! Full body and everything courtesy of mine! Although, remind yourself that I'll only add basic colors to it! No shadows, no lighting, no nothing!

For 15 USD, I can add the sweet basic shadows to make it far more presentable! Fun! Fun!

And for 20 USD, I can add the rest! Lighting, shading, and that wonderful glow that makes drawings come to life! (And probably strangle you for the amount of angst you drop onto them!)

Want me to add an extra character to the drawing you'll request? No problem! Just add ten more USD to the mix per character and that job is done! I'll even shade it to your convenience if that's what you prefer!

Last but not least! We have the backgrounds! Aren't they precious? We'll have to amp up the price a little for these ones! 45 USD should be just fine! Just fine!

Now, this sounds good and all! But there are some things I'll not be willing to draw! So, let's see them!

Just as how you can easily request art to me, it's just as easy for me to reject it! I am not here for your debauchery!

(Also sometimes too complex designs! I'll manage, but you know! You know!)

---

Why am I doing this, you may ask?

Well! Sadly, this little guy and his creator are going through some iffy times! So we thought that perhaps this might be a good way to make money on our own!

But don't pay attention to that! We're here to have fun!

If anyone wants to request this little guy for art, feel free to reach out in either DMs of this account, or in my Discord if you know me well! You can even use my account below

As for pay, you can reach out to PayPal to send it over! Wonderful, Wonderful!

---

newgeorge2287544@gmail.com! newgeorge2287544@gmail.com!

---

Comms Slots: CLOSED (5/5)

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 17, MAG 17 The Boneturner's Tale

Honestly, if my high school bully got their hands on a Leitner I think basically the same thing would happen.

MAG 17 analysis, spoilers ahead.

Facts: Statement of Sebastian Adekoya regarding a new acquisition at Chiswick Library.

Statement Notes: "Books are amazing, aren't they?"

The first line of this statement is so hopeful. Sebastian approaches what happened to him with this strange light pouring out of him. He takes on the world with a realistic yet deeply optimistic outlook. His character feels out of place in the Magnus Archives world because, although he's afraid, he isn't sick or sad or angry or desperate. Despite the horror he finds himself facing, there isn't any actual disruption to his routine, meaning he doesn't have to change in the face of danger. Adekoya is a static character in a dynamic setting.

As a book lover, Adekoya uses a lot of flowery language in his statement. He spends the first minute giving a speech on the beauty and power of language and the written word. He serves as an incredible contrast to Jared. They don't necessarily have conflicting beliefs, but conflicting focuses. Adekoya deals in the beautiful and abstract, Hopworth deals in the messy and real. Language is art, humans are meat.

Since Sebastian and Jared are around the same age, and Adekoya just graduated college, we can assume Jared is about 22-23 during the events of this statement. His characterization was very realistic. People often joke about hearing the bully of their secondary school getting arrested, but it's very different when you realize the violent but ultimately harmless kid you knew has become a violent and harmful adult. Often, that violent energy is turned against family members first. Those who tried to help, those who enabled, those who don't deserve it.

The end of the statement was very frightening. The violence enacted against Adekoya is a show of power by Jared and, in turn, The Boneturner's Tale. The Magnus Archives is an eldritch horror story, and The Bonetruner's Tale holds power no human can possibly understand. It is capable of enacting violence no human can understand. Its power is so great, we are left to assume a car killed Sebastian, because no living thing could do that much damage. Right?

In addition to Mike Crew's strange strategy of dropping the Leitner off in a random library, he chose to file it as Trainspotting of all things. This means that not only did Crew check out Trainspotting from the library, but he now owns the copy. Does this matter at all to the plot or metaplot of TMA? No. Does it matter to my heart? Yes.

Entity Alignment: Another strong Flesh episode. When Hopworth's mother is described as missing bones in her arm, I began to wonder if Boneturner was how Hopworth first began harvesting for the meat pit. Early on, he likely had no knowledge of the ritual. But since Boneturner is what allowed him to steal the flesh of others, it would make sense that he would utilize it to feed and serve the entity.

If not, and Jared only used Boneturner to steal for and add to himself as his powers developed, there is something to be said about the Flesh's affiliation with greed. Humans eat meat partly out of necessity; it's accessible, it's filling, it's fuel. But the excess of meat consumption, the ever-increasing animal slaughter across the world at the expense of our own health and environment? Is that because we're hungry, or because we just want more?

I also noted how Sebastian didn't seem attracted to Boneturner at all. There's a motif with Leitners regarding them "calling out" to people and drawing innocents into their dark ways. But clearly, it's not indiscriminate. The isn't an apple of discord or ring of power situation; Leitners are capable of choosing who they want to attach themselves to. While I don't know much about the Canterbury Tales (feel free to educate me in the notes), it does seem that as the book makes Hopworth stronger, he makes it stronger by feeding its written desire for blood and violence.

Character Notes: Who speaks to their boss like that. Who. I get Elias needs him but is it not suspicious to everyone else when his employee can just say stuff like that? "Fine, fine, I'll be more lovely?" You sarcastic bastard?

This is a...weird intro to Elias to say the least. While of course Jon is being rude and they're passively sniping at each other, Elias does seem calm. He seems responsible and put together. He's not antagonistic in any way. If anything, Jon is the aggressor in the conversation. Up to this point, Jon has been the listener's only lens to view this world through. So when we are presented with a new character to compare him to, and Jon is snippy and rude, we are essentially forced into seeing this character as calm and rational. There was no way for the audience to ever perceive Elias as the villain. Which is exactly what he wanted.

Jon also states the Institute's goal is to "record and study, not interfere or contain." This makes sense for an academic institution (you wouldn't expect a forensic research lab to arrest criminals and keep them on-site), but it becomes interesting in the context of The Magnus Protocol. The Office of Incident Assessment and Response explicitly intends to respond to the supernatural even though it's still questionable how/if they do. Jon's initial goal isn't to take action against the entities, but he is more or less forced to. As of now in TMAGP, Sam wants to be involved in the supernatural, but is forced into a state of inaction.

Also Elias calls him "Jonathan." That doesn't mean anything but god to be a fly on that wall.

There's also the strange implication in this conversation that Rosie is in charge of the recording equipment. If this is true, it clearly doesn't last as Jon slowly becomes lord of the tape recorders. But still, the only reason I can think of for Elias giving his assistant access to the tapes is to indulge her "nosy Rosie" habits. She seems to only have access to the digital recordings, so none of the "real" stuff. But she can still listen to other people's private thoughts and experiences. Elias wants her to look into other people's business so he can keep her on in the world to come.

The first indicator of Martin's absence. "Stomach problems." There is the continued question of Prentiss' lucidity. In her statement regarding the wasp's nest, she seems to be losing her grip on reality. Several statement givers describe her and other infected as mindless monsters. But, she clearly was conscious enough to concoct an elaborate story of Martin's illness and maintain text communications with the archival staff. She would also need to be lucid if she was consciously conducting the corruption ritual, but it's equally possible the ritual was driven by animalistic and unnameable drives given to her by the entity. The Corruption needs Prentiss mindless enough to serve as a source of nameless protruding rot, but still sentient enough to A) not be captured and B) fulfill its worldly tasks. This is another instance of TMA dream logic: Prentiss is lucid enough to lie and form plans, but too far gone to be reasoned with.

[trippinsorrows]

Wait Sam and Solana as sisters? And Soso is pregnant with Roman's baby??! I have so many questions. How would that even work?

oh, it wouldn't lmao i imagine the dynamic would still be the same where sam hates solana or is just really mean to her. they're not close at all. and solana would put up the baby for adoption cause it's all just too messy and too much.

something like:

2 months.

it's been two months since he's last seen her. 2 months too long. much too long. but this is only realized when she's standing before him, a couple of feet away. a safe distance. for her.

too much distance for him.

roman studies her, searches for any differences, and there are many. the main one being her hair. she's finally cut it, wavy locks hovering an inch or two above her shoulders. she's also dyed it. instead of the deep, obsidian black, it's an array of browns that compliments her complexion beautifully. the other things are more subtle, things only someone like him---someone who's memorized and etched every piece of her to memory---would notice. like the fact that her face is a little fuller, her skin a bit brighter, glowing almost.

a stark contrast to her pretty brown eyes that have to be the saddest he's ever seen. because despite all these changes, what stands out the most is the absence of that light she's always had about her.

one of the many things that made him fall for her in the first place.

unable to stop himself, he comments on one of the changes, "you cut your hair." roman waits for her to respond, only for her to give a small nod of agreement. "it looks good."

she swallows and looks down. "thank you." roman tenses. the first time he's heard that soft voice in months, and even that is different. so much sadder. heavier. "this won't take long."

roman finds himself feeling disappointed. it could take all night for all he cares. he's missed her.

"solana...." so much to say. not enough time. never enough time. "i--"

"i'm putting the baby up for adoption."

roman isn't stupid. far from it. when she first reached out to him after months of radio silence, he had a feeling it had something to do with her pregnancy. he just had no idea it would be this.

"what?" his voice is low, hesitant almost. "what--what do you mean?"

"i mean, i'm putting the baby up for adoption," she repeats herself, voice firmer as she goes on to explain, "i found an agency. it's reputable. they're going to help me find a coup---"

"what the hell do you mean you're putting the baby up for adoption?" he also finds more of his voice. as well as emotions other than regret and longing, such as anger, confusion, hurt. "i thought you were going to---"

"i changed my mind," she cuts him off, lifting her chin, slipping back into that place. "it's for the better."

"for who?" he challenges, seeing the way something flashes in her eyes. something familiar yet distant.

"for me," she answers with just as much conviction. "roman, i'm....i'm halfway through medical school. i can't be a mother right now. it'll ruin my plans---"

"bullshit," he cuts her off, that anger intensifying with each unoriginal word that comes out of her mouth. the robotic delivery is all he needs to hear to know exactly where this came from. "those aren't your plans. they're dr. nina and dr. xavier's plans."

and her looking away to escape his knowing gaze and truthful words is all he needs to see to know he's right. "being a doctor is a great career path."

"yeah, but it's not what you want, is it?" still, she says nothing. "when are you going to live your life for you, solana?"

at that, her eyes snap back to him, anger boiling. "i tried, and look where it got me." this time, he's the one who's silent, unable to respond to the weighty meaning behind such polarizing words. she shakes her head and wipes at her eyes. "look, i just wanted to tell you--"

"you can't do this." roman interrupts, partially unsure where this is coming from. up until this point, he hasn't allowed himself to think too much of the child. but now..... "i won't sign the papers."

"i don't need you to sign any papers. i'm unmarried, which means, by law, i can unilaterally make the decision for us--"

"you can't just give up our fucking baby, solana!" he didn't mean to raise his voice, didn't mean to snap at her, but the more the reality sets in, the more his frustration rises.

at that, she steps closer to him. "our baby?" she scoffs, "you mean the baby who no one except you and I know you're the father of?" shaking her head, she asserts, "no. this is my baby and my decision, and this---" her voice cracking gives away the fact that despite this strong display she's putting on. it's just that. a display. a mirage to hide her true feelings. "this is what i want to do."

he closes his eyes. "solana, we need to think this through---"

"would you stop saying we!" she shouts, gesturing between them. "there is no we! there never was, and there never will be! don't you get it?" she throws up her hands, the previously at bay tears finally escaping. "i don't have a choice, roman! i'm not pretty and skinny like sam and can get the world handed to me because of it! i have to finish school! i have to become a a doctor! i don't get picked. there is no other option for me!"

her words penetrate him, stomp on that small, almost vulnerable part that only she is privy to seeing and knowing. "solana....." his footsteps toward her are slow, partially because he anticipates her backing away. but when she doesn't, when she only looks away to hide her tear stricken face is when he takes his opportunity.

he's suddenly before her, roman not hesitating to swoop his arm around her. and in that quick act, along with her gasping and failing to catch her cardigan from coming open, he sees it.

and it's all he can see, all his focus can hone and center in on. it's almost a natural reaction. the way his hand dips to her stomach, feels the swell of her belly.

she's showing.

it makes sense. by his calculations, she should be almost five months, thus a baby bump only makes sense. but, it's one thing to know it, another to feel and see it.

her voice intrudes on his brief state of shock, "roman, please...."

hand continuing to explore, he says with almost sense of awe, "this is our baby.....my baby."

had he been looking up, he would have seen the way her eyes shut. "it doesn't matter, roman....."

his head snaps up at that. "of course, it matters." using his free hand, he lifts it to her face, palming her cheek, "we can figure this out, solana."

she looks down and shakes her head. "no, we can't."

"solana--"

"roman," she interrupts, voice pained. "you took me to bed....but you're taking my sister down the aisle....there's nothing to figure out." and with those crushing words, she steps back, from him, forcing both his hands back at his side. "i have to go."

she turns away, walking to leave when he can't help himself from asking, "what is it?"

his eyes never leave her, never miss the way she throws her head back, clearly taking a deep breath. or, the way she almost protectively covers her stomach back up with her cardigan.

just like there's no missing the crack in her voice as she answers, "it's a girl."

[prima-materia-ttrpg]

The "why" behind Game Design

I've been doing a lot of thinking and talking with my friends about Prima Materia, as I often do these days. For the past few weeks there's been something itching at the back of my mind, I'm making mechanics that are starting to work well but for whatever reason they don't "feel" like Prima Materia to me. They technically fit in with the design pillars I've assigned myself; grounded, cinematic, dynamic, and fantasy, but I've felt like things are missing. Going beyond that, I don't think someone would properly grok the game if they were to read my past blog posts. If I read my past blog posts without knowing what Prima Materia is, I would think it's a game mostly focused on combat with some interesting worldbuilding.

I decided to talk with one of my friends about this, and the conversation led to me trying to properly articulate the kinds of things I want to happen in Prima Materia and compare that with the direction the design is going. In particular, how do I imagine a campaign going? What do people actually do in the game? While these are questions that can be applied to most ttrpgs, I hadn't realized how important it was to answer them concretely to make correct design decisions for my game rather than the design being driven by vague subconscious conceptions of a game that does not yet exist filtered through some core design pillars and my own limited experience in playing ttrpgs.

What do people actually do in the game?

This is a wide question, and has a wide answer.

When I think of what it would be like to actually play or GM a game of Prima Materia my mind tends towards uncovering secrets, diplomatically dealing with situations, and overcoming obstacles that require lots of preparation to pull off without getting seriously hurt. Secrets should be important to the party and world, and depending on the tier of play can be anything from uncovering new alchemical magics to metaphysical secrets of the universe that can act as MacGuffins for a longstanding party.

The more I think about it, the more I believe that uncovering secrets is one half of the beating heart of Prima Materia, and the other half is preparation for overcoming obstacles to achieve the uncovering of those secrets. Characters in the game aren't meant to be incredibly powerful but rather incredibly skilled at their area of expertise, whether that be being good with a sword, knowledgeable in certain subjects, good at diplomacy, or making useful items. That's the concept of the game that's in my head that needs to be concretely written down (and how convenient for me that I've just done that).

Going Forward

A lot of the ideas and drafts I've written or verbalized to friends make a lot more sense in this light of uncovering secrets and preparation, as lot of those ideas hinge on uncovering secrets or being prepared. There are lost manuscripts I've been itching to put in that grant skill bonuses as well as character features due to the knowledge contained within. The Alchemist profession alone is a class that takes the ideas of preparedness and uncovering secrets to 11, where you create new spells and tinctures and unlock more and more useful things to make as well as ways to make them.

There are several design decisions I've been making recently that do not spark joy for me. They will be dealt with, and going forward I will have this to keep in mind as what I want the heart of the game to be.

If you read this far, thank you very much! It means a lot. The astute among you who read my last post will notice that this is suspiciously not a post about the Sepia as I promised, and that's because I thought this post was important. I will of course try to get the Sepia post out next week, but if that fails I will bring you an update on my most recent mechanics experiment which will surely have transpired by then.

[willowmosby]

I have over the last 5 months watched all 15 seasons and the immortality special of the original CSI. I have no plans to watch the reboot anytime soon so I thought I would info dump my thoughts, and if love to know how others feel. I will now present a very very long post with breakdown some quick thoughts on the seasons, more thoughts on most of the characters and a few ships.

Tldr: I really enjoyed CSI as a whole and I'm sad to say goodbye to a formula and some characters I've really grown attached to. ( And If there is a good Nick Stokes written into immortality fic please lmk)

Seasons:

I do think the early seasons the most fun/ light hearted, which feels weird to say when it literally opens with Sara investigating Warrick for negligence. I kinda wish I had blogged along or something so I could be more detailed in my response about them.

Like a lot of shows I think it really hit its stride in the middle seasons. If I had to pick a few seasons to watch it be 5-7. It also helps that I had finally gotten used to the lighting.

I think the 9- 11 stretch is too serious, don't get me wrong there were some bangers but overall not great

12-15 they were better and back to a little more fun, and I think the series kept its footing pretty well in its final innings. It was no golden era and I felt really bad that Catherine got demoted but I really enjoyed it. ( Well ok I really wasn' a gig harbor arc fan)

Immortality was a fine special, although I don't really feel like it stuck the landing. Part of that will probably become obvious when I talk about my character and ship takes but I also just felt the case could have been better. It's the freshest in mind, obviously, so I will say I really loved having Catherine and Grissom back and if anything I felt like it gave good closure for them and to a lesser extent Sara.

Characters( kinda in the order of their exit):

The lab rats: Bobby, Mandy, Archie icons every one of them. There is a world where Wendy, Hodges and Henry get their own sections but I feel like they would appreciate being in this group. Never pushed into too much melodrama their characterization, always great at their jobs. I would love to grab drinks with any of them

The cops: Brass will get his own sections but to summarize my feelings on all the others. They did their job and I love that for them. They almost never overstayed their welcome but they also aren't the reason I'm watching this show. The only two I would want to get drinks with are the should have been lesbian Sofia Curtis ( she almost got her own section but then i got lazy) and the best uniform in the business, the man, the myth, my man officer Mitchell.

Warrick Brown: My smooth talking gambling king. He was definitely missed after his death. While I didn't love his characterization in the greda Arc, I usually really enjoyed his dynamic with the team and his drive to the job. His death was the closest I came to stopping my watching. His skills with kids are underrated ( probably cause Nick and Catherine are so good) and I do have a say on top of all his intelligence and skills at the job he is so handsome. I think he might go a little too hard for me to enjoy getting drinks with him but I would still do it.

Gill Grissom: My second favorite Dr. Bug ( sorry no one can beat Jack Hodgins) he really is the smartest person on the show. You can always feel his passion for science which is lovely. While sometimes out of touch or oblivious he is usually incredibly kind. I liked his tie to the deaf community. You can pull the fact that he is Demi from my cold dead hands. In a lot of the ways he was the heart of the show and it definitely shows when he left. His relationships with Catherine, Warick, Nick and of course Sara were well developed. I would kill to get a drink with him just to listen to him talk science.

Riley Adams: she gets a section as it is rude for me to not mention a character who was in the credits but she's fucking white bread milk toast. Would not bother getting drinks.

Raymond Langston: I love his relationship with Robbins and I think he's incredibly smart. But I just think the show gave him way way too much too quickly. I mean just compare it to the fucking effort Greg put in to reach CSI or that as new CSI 3 there was a long stretch where Nick didn't get his own cases. I appreciated his complex background but he brought with him the Haskell arc which was just too fucking long and serious. I would get a singular glass of wine with him.

Catherine Willows: What a girl boss. And I mean that is all the best and worst ways. I really love her at her best but man some of her lows are just.. no fun. She is absolutely vital to the show's success and 9/10 times she is out there taking no prisoners and careing for her team. Just you know wish she hadn't shown her daughter a dead body or faked a crime scene with a new guy to name some examples. She could drink me under the table no doubt.

Jim Brass: While never my favorite character I always appreciate seeing him on my screen. Competent enough to hang with the scientist and still be a good cop. I appreciated how dedicated he was to his daughter but Just not personally my vibes. I would get a drink with him but uhh maybe make it non alcoholic cause it's unclear if he needs sobriety help.

Julie Finlay: She's sweet and very very good at her job. If she had come earlier on she might be one of my favorites just my top 3 was already filled. She brings a good balance back to the team, and she has a weird level of breaking and respecting the rules that I enjoyed. She very quickly had such a good dynamic with all the returning favs that there are moments I forgot she was so new. She's got big Bi & Poly energy. I know the actress wasn't coming back but I would've paid to see her interact with Grissom. Sad that she died off screen but also kinda glad they didn't end 15 with her completely dead. I would absolutely get drinks with her, probably mimosas despite my dislike for them.

Morgan Brody: eh shes fine. I feel like despite everything she still comes off as naive. I love her relationship with Eklie and Hodges but overall she left something to be desired. Nothing that I super disliked but I do kinda wish some of her screen time went to Sara or someone else.

D.B Russell: he was honestly a breath of fresh air, well until he wasn't. I think I just love Ted Dansion for one but also I felt like Russell was a beautiful balance between caring and professional. It was nice to have a supervisor who was actually kinda good at politics. I love that he actually cares for his kids and loves his wife ( although I was informed by my mother that he is divorced in Cyber). I do kinda wish the kept the bit where he laid on the ground as a body but mostly cause I found it way funnier than it is. I really hated the gig harbor killer arc and I felt like a large reason is it made him too serious. I would get a drink with him, but honestly I'd love to have a full meal with his family

Super Dave: what a lovable but weird dude. Genuinely a great example of how you can blend strange comments with kindness and consistency to create a great character. I would love to grab a drink with him.

Doc Robbins: What an honest man and in the running for the best M.E ( up there with Ducky and Cam). I'm glad he mostly stayed out of the drama and appreciated that he was always thorough, even when people were occasionally questioning his own work. Not kind to a fault but definitely empathetic. I would 100% grab a drink with him.

Now to the top 3, the best of the best, the ones who were in for the long haul.

Nick Stokes: Whether it's the sweet Texas accent and big bown eyes or the fact that he's the longest running main cast member I do think he is my favorite. Empathetic and kind, almost to a fault, he is also a man's man who can hold his own against the worst criminals. The show put him through the absolute fucking ringer but he still leaves with a smile on his face. Even when he clashes with other characters I feel like he resolves the problems better than other people. He definitely could have benefited from good therapy but I still love him anyway. His skills with kids are so nice and grounded in his backstory. Loved that he became the new big guy. Occasionally they try and paint him as a bit of a player but given he sleeps with like 2 women over 15 seasons it doesn't super add up. This is definitely the queer in me talking but he gives huge repressed Gay energy. Like a lot of his early arc is about graining confidence in himself. Not to mention,his relationship with Warrick and Greg are so filled with undertones and honestly let that man get fucked and some of his problems might go away. Anyway. So I guess more power to the actor for not coming back for even a cameo but I really really felt the lack of him in immortality. So If anyone knows a fanfic where he's there lmk I would read that shit in a heartbeat. Would get drinks with him, would die for him.

Greg Sanders: I love rave going lab rat Greg. I love the new CSI trying to prove himself to Greg. I love mob history author Greg. I mean he's got to be one of the most intelligent characters on the show- he's good at science and history- and it never makes him come off as rude or entitled. I think his shift from lab rat to CSI, whether intentional or accidental, is well built. He is criminally oh I mean so so so criminally underutilized in immortality. I dislike when he's angry and there are certainly episodes where he feels off but overall he's just so lovable. Disgusting hair choices but hey at least that was a consistent trait. His relationship with Nick and Sara throughout the whole show are really great and after 15 seasons they really do feel like they've been a team for 15 years. He gives Huge Bi energy so I would take him to a gay club for drinks and dancing.

Sara Sidle: You can call her a problematic fav all you want but she's a bad bitch and everyone should love her. She is so great at her job and she never lacks humanity. The show kinda lost track of her exact backstory at some point but I don't care too too much as she stays strong willed and passionate the whole show. Her will to never quit and iconic smirks will stay winning forever. I have thoughts on her relationship with Grissom but bottom line she knew what she wanted and got it. Her friendship with all the main cast, particularly Greg and Nick, is really lovely and shows how she has grown and changed over 15 seasons. Because I actually care about continuity I would not get an actual alcoholic drink with her but non alcoholic drinks aplenty would be had if I could meet her.

Ships:

Listen I don't have a real finger on the pulse of what ships are popular as this show finished airing 10 years ago and I was trying to not be super spoiled.

That being said

GSR: I'm not super into Grissom/ Sara ( side note I know the Internet was a different place 20 years ago but who picked GSR as their ship tag), but I'm also not against it. I think they have a big "match my freak" energy which is nice but. I don't know I just feel like by the end of it Sara could do better. Like she gave up the lab director for the guy who asked her for a divorce. I still think it's better than some other options just you know not like my otp. 8/10

Catherine/ Warrick: I think that the flirting was all fun and games and then if became too much. Let's be honest neither of them are built for committed relationships. Probably would have been better then whatever the fuck was happening with Warrick and Tina. 5/10

Catherine/ Vartann: its canonical and like they were fine I didn't hate it didn't love it. Probably better for Catherine in the long term than any other of her potential ships 6/10

Nick/ Greg: idk if this is super popular but it's my otp for the show. They seem like they bring out the best in each other. Nicks more clean cut natural could balance out the more chaotic ature of greg. Obviously with the era the show was made in I don't think that there tension was intentional but it's still there. From the name that chemical compound game to working together until the end of really think they would be great. 11/10

Nick/ Warrick: I had to mention for the just two dudes who have homoerotic tension energy but ehh Warrick dose really read straight to me in every other context. 3/10

Wendy/ Hodges: ehh they give straight white couple who should have just talked about their feelings. 4/10

Hodges/ Henry: is this a real ship? idk man, But it's an friends to enemies to lovers I would love to read. 6/10

Morgan/ Greg: ok part of this is the my ship bias( see above) but I did not like them together. Their flirting is not good, his anger at her kidnapping too extreme, idk I Just really feels like they operate in different levels. 0/10

Morgan/ Hodges: I actually thought this was really sweet and was super said they went with the parents dating thing. I think they understood each other on a really fun level and that they brought out the best in each other. I loved how supportive they were of each other even in seemingly poor decisions. 8/10

Finn/ D.B: I would assume that this is the popular het ship for the them but uhh D.B is so happily married and Finn ( much like Warrick and Catherine) doesn't really give monogamous relationship. 0/10

Finn/ Sara: 100% queer women projection but uhh just imagine post divorce Sara figuring out her identity with Finn and they try friends with benefits but then need more. 6/10

If you made it this far thanks so much for reading and id love to hear others thoughts as I do a deep dive into this show. I Will be reading plenty of fanfiction and may start CSI: NY to appease the new hole in my heart.

[kenphobia]

Hellooo, therapy is expensive but reading your stories about silly puppets it's free.

So, I was wondering if I could ask for some imagines of Wally Darling (yeah, again, sorry 😭) with a s/o whose love language is giving gifts? Like, they love to shower Wally (and their other friends) in all kind of gifts no matter the time or place.

I hope that wasn't too confusing and I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

KINDERGARDEN GAMES!

"T-a-n-g-a ka talaga, Wally." "... What—"

summary. wally is a puppet who loves his neighbors equally and cherishes them in many ways. but when his lover does gift giving more than him, he gets a bit competitive. ( headcanons / 0.9k wc / read end notes )

contents. general fluff, straight up romantic dynamic, implied filipino!wally, bits of playful Wally slander ( nsfw blogs dni )

✦ It started simple, nothing too big or fancy. When you brough him those oil pastels Wally had been eying for a while, he couldn't help but feel flustered. It's not like he haven't received gifts before, few of his neighbors love to give him little presents too, but it was different when it comes to you.

✦ Of course, he accepts with a smile and a slightly flushed face.

"Thanks, (Name)! I really, really appreciate this." Wally paused, switching his gaze from the oil pastels to you in a nervous manner. "I, um, I'll make sure to make great use of it."

You smiled, patting his hair carefully as to not accidentally deform the pompadour he spent half an hour styling and 5 whole bottles of glue. "Well, I'm glad you liked it! I have to go now though, Sally needs me with setting up her stage for tomorrow's play. See you later, Walls!"

Wally waved you goodbye, watching you leave and your figure getting farther and farther, completely disappearing as you turned a corner. He finally focused his gaze to the box in his hands, a gentle smile caressed his face.

For a short moment, He remembered how your eyes twinkled and reflected the warm light. Wally's gaze softened, humming as he went inside his house. He has an idea what to do using the oil pastels you gave him.

✦ It was sweet, Wally would say, but he wouldn't admit how he had dreames of the whole thing several times. Or well, daydreamed since he doesn't sleep. Home had a couple of incidents and scolding Wally for letting his paintbrush go and getting paint on the carpet.

✦ Wally didn't think much of it though, but appreciated it finely. That is until he received some homemade mint chocolate cookies at his doorstep. Eddie had given it to him, informing him that it came from no other than the lovely you.

✦ (Wally doesn't miss Eddie side-eying though. Sadly, not everyone can appreciate mint chocolate like Wally does.)

✦ It didn't just stop there, no, why would it? From cookies to handcrafted beaded jewelry of his favorite colors to little letters and poems to cute little doodles of you and him being pinned on his fridge everyday— Your gifts were endless and Wally wonders how could you make so much in just a span of an hour.

✦ He doesn't have the right to judge you after making multiple portraits of you and sending some of them immediately to your home. It was a lot, but after all of you wonderous gifts that kept him awake and thinking at every hour, your front porch became bombarded with many paintings.

✦ Wally started doing art in other ways too. Pottery, watercolour, jewelries, etc. He even sent a whole basket of (definitely not stolen) apples to your door! The whole gift giving suddenly became a war between who could show their affection more than the other.

✦ Eddie had to intervene because he had been delivering gifts to both your houses every single day. Doesn't bother Wally though, it gives him the advantage of simply entering your home with a key he secretly copied and stuff all of his heartfelt gifts.

✦ You did caught him one time in your room, hanging up pictures of you, some of them were mainly focused on your eyes. You aren't exactly sure how to feel about it, both the paintings and the crime he had just committed.

Arriving to your humble abode, you furrowed your brows upon finding the front door unlocked. You quickly entered inside, trying your best at staying quiet while you put your stuff down on the sofa and wanderes around your home for the intruder.

The neighborhood isn't exactly a crime-filled place, but you still can't shake off the feeling of dread bubbling in your stomach. You gripped the house keys in your hands so firmly that you swear the plastic could cut through your palm.

You neared your room, breath hitching at the sound of shuffling and murmuring. You squinted through the darkness, seeing your bedroom door wide open and the lights turned on. Quickly, you rushed closer and hoped that the intruder wouldn't hear your panicked steps.

"Oh... That wouldn't work at all. Let's try this position." A voice suddenly pierced through the silence. It was soft, warm and awfully familiar that it made bits of your dread disappear slowly.

You leaned against the wall, turning your head and peeking from the doorway. Immediately, you locked your eyes at a portrait of you sitting idly on your bed and then to the blue cardigan the stranger was wearing.

Wait a second, That's not a stranger. No, that's—!

"Wally? What are you doing here?" You voiced out, walking in as your boyfriend turned to face you. His eyes wide in surprise, nearly dropping the painting. You found yourself deadpanning at what was on the canvas, it was a painting of you and Wally unsurprisingly.

Wally smiled, albeit nervously. "O-Oh, *Mahal! You're home earlier than I expected."

You hardened your gaze, squinting at his form as you crossed your arms. "Wally, why are you in my house?"

"Well, you see, Mahal..." Wally began, putting down the painting and making it lean on the wall. "I— I will explain it to you tomorrow. Byee!"

You didn't have a chance to say anything before Wally ran up to your window and jumping out, breaking plastic glass and leaving your room in a state of disaster.

That noseless bastard.

notes. did i completely forgot abt the other neighbors? yes. do i regret it? no. sorry, howdy 😔 but yaya!!! another wally fic, turned out a bit shorter than I like and more crackshippy but that's fineee

i hope you like it tho!!! this was fun to make and i rlly tried racking my brain for any creative juice.

inbox is always open, so come on by again for more wally slander /lh

*mahal - love in tagalog

[ruinofchimera]

Hello! I really like your posts and analyses, I was the one who sent the anonymous ask asking you to talk more about Snape's relationship with Voldemort and what differentiates it from Voldemort's other relationships

I always felt something different in the dynamics between them, although some passages went unnoticed and I couldn't connect some points very well. That's when I saw a brief comment from you about the complexity of their relationship and how it gives goosebumps to anyone who dares to research further. I was intrigued and needed to read more from you about this, so I sent you the question

I came running to read your response as soon as I saw you posted it and... Oh, that was amazing. Although my approach to Snape is more romantic and sentimental (I'm in love with him and I love him, so I'm completely biased towards him), it's very rewarding to read a rational, intelligent, objective, direct and less biased analysis. You have given me incredible intellectual pleasure and it has been a real treat to read about. I love delving into everything surrounding this complex man and the complexities of his interactions with the most powerful and manipulative wizards of his time.

I can only think about how Snape was so exceptional that he became irreplaceably precious to the two most powerful wizards on both sides of the war. How he was the fundamental player in this war, as he gained the power to influence his two masters, who completely trusted him. Even so, as you discussed, it seems that he gained power of influence over Voldemort almost immediately, whereas with Albus it was built over the years. Of course, Snape always had more affinity for darkness than light, but he ended up being recognized by both.

(By the way, wasn't Lucius Malfoy another one who protected Snape almost immediately as soon as Snape was sorted into Slytherin? What do you think was behind that? Lucius saw Snape as just a brilliant but vulnerable boy? An easy target and promising for the Dark Lord? Or did he also see something more in Snape? After all, Snape was invited to Malfoy's mansion as a family friend and became godfather and private tutor to Lucius' son. What's more: could Lucius' opinion of Snape have influenced Voldemort? Or did Voldemort's predilection for Snape raise Lucius's opinion?)

Anyway, reading your response gave me a lot of new feelings and insights and I was hoping that the text would never end (unfortunately the text ended, but what I read will certainly be enough to leave me sleepless for a few nights). I really, really want to read more of your thoughts on this topic and everything you have to say, I can even pay for your working hours (ok, unfortunately I can't). But please feel encouraged to post your thoughts on them whenever you want, because from what you've said, you still have a lot more to say.

I'll probably only be able to think about it for the next few days. And by the way, why aren't there fanfics about this? People are missing out on something extremely valuable to explore. In the absence of fanfics, I ask you: what are your personal theses for the reasons that lead Snape to gain privileges with Voldemort? I just want assumptions, just what you think or what would make you satisfied as an explanation

Anyway, thank you so much again ❤️ you made my day and now my obsession is well fed (and much hungrier)

It’s a paradox—being in such a sprawling fandom, yet feeling like I’m wandering alone with my little reflections more often than not. So, isn’t that the sweetest bloody thing—hearing my take on Snape and Voldemort hit home for you? Got me grinning wide enough to split my face clean in half, and trust me, that doesn’t happen often.

When it comes to Lucius Malfoy and his role in shaping Snape into a Death Eater, unfortunately, I can’t say much. The trouble is, my memory of their interactions in canon is a bit hazy, so my perspective isn’t exactly reliable. It would probably be best to keep quiet about this amusing peacock lover until I reread the books, which is in my immediate plans. But then, when has better judgment ever stopped me from tossing a little fuel on the fire? I can’t resist the urge to stir the pot.

The way I see it now, Malfoy—who was a few years older and comfortably entrenched in the upper echelons of the wizarding world—would have no trouble sizing up Snape for what he was: a scrawny kid with a dangerous gift, a mind for dark magic, and, most importantly, not a single friend worth counting on. An outsider. Vulnerable. All ripe for exploitation. Lucius was sharp enough to realize that while Snape might lack the natural charisma to climb the ladder on his own, his brilliance in potions and the dark arts could make him invaluable. So, Lucius played his hand expertly.

But you’ve raised a compelling question: did Lucius’ influence on Voldemort shape Snape’s rise, or was it Voldemort’s favor that swayed Lucius’ attitude toward Snape? Likely a bit of both. I assume Lucius had a knack for spotting rising talents and knew when to cozy up to someone with potential. He could’ve easily whispered a few words to Voldemort in Snape’s favor, spinning the boy’s talents in the most flattering light. Yet once Voldemort started grooming Snape, you can bet Lucius would have fallen right in line, ensuring his regard for the young wizard was well-known. By the time the Dark Lord took a more personal interest in Snape, Lucius would have been perfectly positioned to ride that wave.

Still, I can’t help but think Malfoy would never have seen it coming: someone he deemed lesser rising so high. That kind of reversal must sting, don’t you think? Watching a kid who once lingered in the shadows suddenly become a key player in the very game you thought you controlled. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and I imagine it would gnaw at him, lurking in the back of his mind like a persistent itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

It’s a shame I never paid the proper attention to the dynamic between Snape and Malfoy in canon. I’m a sucker for Snucius content, though, and I practically pounce on any decent fanfiction featuring them. I’d happily indulge in anyone’s reflections and headcanons about their twisted relationship—it’s my not-so-guilty pleasure, and I’ll own that without a second thought.

Now we’re circling back to my favorite pastime—unpacking the inexplicable yet utterly breathtaking relationship between the snake and the bat. I have to say, your whole “romantic and sentimental” angle on Snape? Adorable. Though my own metas often resemble a cold vivisection—slicing things open to expose the guts and see how they work—don’t let that fool you: my personal view of Snapemort is as romantic and sentimental as it gets.

I’ve crossed paths with more than my fair share of people in this fandom who wouldn’t know canon if it came up and knocked them flat on their backs. They get gaslighted so fast it’s almost like they’re begging for it—like canon’s some blurry afterthought they just can’t be bothered to keep straight. So in my metas, I’m constantly fighting not to let the canon get tangled up in the wild mess that is my headcanon. I try to delve into the cracks and shadows, and find something that feels like truth. But up in my head? Forget about decent—this concept doesn’t even exist in here. My imagination is as twisted as the characters I’m dissecting.

Now you’ve signed up for this—my own romantic and sentimental take on Snapemort. So, Moon Prism, give you strength. Here we go.

The tension between Severus and Tom wasn’t just about power, it was about identity. Here was a boy who, like Voldemort in his youth, was shunned by the world, brilliant but unloved, wearing his heritage like a festering wound. Tom Riddle saw himself in Snape, and that, for someone as narcissistic as the Dark Lord, was the ultimate form of attraction.

Voldemort didn’t love Snape—he couldn’t love anyone in the traditional sense—but he could covet him. He could hunger to possess that fractured reflection of his own soul. In the end, Voldemort bends for Snape again and again, not because of Severus’s skill or loyalty, but because he sees in him something far more irresistible—himself. A shadow, a twisted echo of everything Voldemort despises in his own nature, or maybe everything he adores—who’s to say? The truth could be both or none at all.

Voldemort wasn’t merely grooming Snape for power; he was grooming him as a personal obsession. He wanted to control Snape, to mold him, to shape him into the perfect instrument of his will. But deep down, perhaps he knew he never fully could. And that only made the obsession stronger.

Maybe it’s a matter of souls, twisted and broken as they are. Maybe there’s something cosmic, some fucked-up string of fate that ties them together, a soulmate bond gone rancid. Or maybe it’s simpler. Maybe it’s just the raw, magnetic pull of power and cruelty, a dynamic that thrives on dominance, fear, and that unspoken tension. There’s something primal in the way Voldemort circles Snape, the way Snape stands just that little bit straighter in the presence of the only man in the world who can destroy him with a word. It’s all there in the pauses, in the quiet moments where one wrong move could mean death—or something far worse. That razor-thin line between obsession and control, submission and defiance. Could be that. Could be something else entirely.

That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? They’re never just one dull thing, never some tired trope you’ve seen beaten to death a thousand times before. It’s that constant churn of possibilities that keeps me restless, on edge, always hungry for more. They breathe life into the idea that stories can be unpredictable, that characters don’t have to fit neatly into boxes, that two men with such deep, twisted histories can be everything at once: allies, enemies, crooked reflections of one another. Maybe even something darker, something that defies the lines we’re so used to.

As for fanfics — you’re absolutely right. The world is sleeping on some seriously juicy material. At this point, I could devour just about anything that puts those two in the same room. Give me soulmate AUs where they’re bound by destiny, torn apart by the weight of prophecy. Give me porn without plot, where all their schemes, all their calculated moves, fall away until nothing’s left but raw need and lust, tangled up in shadows. Hell, give me crack fics where nothing makes sense, yet somehow—it still works.

I’m desperate for more of it—more fics, more theories, more art—because it’s never enough to stew in these thoughts alone. I want to see what everyone else has simmering in their heads, to be blindsided by a take I never imagined, to be pushed by a version of their dynamic that’s raw, savage, and utterly thrilling. It’s not just speculation—it’s about feeding the fire, stoking it higher, until we’re all swept up in the chaotic, breath-stealing storm that is Snape and Voldemort. Two men so alike they could rip each other apart or drag one another closer, and either way, you know it’s going to hurt like hell.

I know it’s a bit presumptuous to keep my hopes high for the sudden spawning of Snapemort content. Best to roll with the punches. Truth is, I made my peace with the constant oversight of these two in the HP fandom ages ago. If folks didn’t spare their enigmatic relationship a thought back in the early days, it’s hard to expect much now, especially with parts of the fandom becoming a bloody nuisance, twisting everything into some fanon nightmare. Ah, there’s my grumpy old man alter ego rearing its head again—apologies for that.

Still, your cravings—so much like mine— are like a rare ray of sunshine for me. I can’t help but hope you’ll stay just as obsessed as me, gnawing at the same bone, driven by the same hunger. After all, who ever said I’m noble?

[orenji-iro-no-sora]

Thoughts on TGCF Vol 2

Vol 1 | Vol 2| Vol 3| Vol 4| Vol 5| Vol 6| Vol 7| Vol 8

*Spoilers*

Firstly, the pace of the books has been just right. I could feel the tension rising gradually. After an almost light hearted investigation in the first book, this one definitely got more and more thrilling (and serious) but it didn't feel sudden at all.

Eming and good times in the Ghost City

I'd say one of my favourite parts of the second volume were the Hualian moments in the Ghost City. It was definitely the calm before the storm though. I could feel my heart racing when Hua Cheng appeared from the curtain. How did the author add so much tension when all they were doing was shaking a dice cup, I don't know!

Eming, the scimitar that could destroy heavenly officials, is childlike and sweet. I imagined it would be fierce because Jun Wu warned against it, but MXTX used it to show how different Hua Cheng is from what people think of him.

I theorised that maybe with Hua Cheng missing an eye, it probably belonged to the scimitar and Eming possessed his child spirit and could express emotions that Hua Cheng repressed. But that's just a theory and probably wrong considering that the spiritual instruments of MDZS all had a life and personality of their own so it's not possible for Eming to somehow have a part of Hua Cheng in it. Also in Arc 2, only one of his eyes was visible, so maybe he was blind from the start. I think this will be revealed later on.

Powerless Gods

With more insight into Ling Wen and her inability to get devotees despite being one of the hardest workers in the realm, and the Wind Master having to take up a female role, even the Gods are not spared from sexism, prejudices, and gender expectations. It's obvious considering their worshippers are humans who have been conditioned by society, and like Xie Lian says: "Who cared whether you were a god or a ghost? You were whatever people believed you to be."

At the end of the day, for Gods, worshippers carry the most power. While devotees fear the Heavens, they are the source of the official's "merits". Xie Lian was right to question the power dynamics between immortals and worshippers. Officials are helpless in how people perceive them (like Feng Xin lol), and they're powerless when it comes to mortal matters. They can't interfere and they can't influence.

And this truth, I believe, is one of the biggest sources of conflict for Xie Lian. He understands better than anyone that he's powerless (and yet powerful) which is why he fears disappointing others and doing the wrong thing (as he has already gone through it all in the past) and which is also why ascending for him, in my opinion, is a curse. He believed that by walking the path of the cultivator, he could become the saviour of his people. That his determination and goodwill could and would lead to eternal peace.

But in reality, there's no point to his ascension. The world carries its own fate and he can't change destiny. He's even more restricted in what he can do as he's no longer a mortal. While insults and harsh words can't stop him, as I believe Xie Lian has always been very confident in his virtue, I think they hurt just the same because he couldn't live up to his own convictions and they're a constant reminder of his shameful past.

Both Xie Lian and Hua Cheng aren't what they are rumoured to be. The kind of people they are, and how they have been perceived by others do not align. But that's pretty much the case for all characters. In reality too, people always see what they want to see.

However what's interesting is that Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have been imagined to the opposite extremes of the spectrum. To Lang Qianqiu, Xie Lian was a saint. (I'd admit that when he asked Qianqiu to not venerate him, I realised I had done the same.) To others, he was a failure and Hua Cheng was the devil. But both of them were more than that.

Xie Lian's frustration: the injustices despite kindness

In this sense, they both were their truest versions with each other. Which is why, when Xie Lian, finally, finally expressed his frustration and anger, it was to Hua Cheng.

Throughout vol 1, I was waiting for Xie Lian to express some irritation or anger or something that wasn't gentle acceptance. If he had fought Jun Wu after his ascension, he must have been pissed. And there's so much in his life that was unjust that there's no way he wouldn't be. Maybe 800 years is enough to get over it, I said to myself, but there must be days when it hits him. Every step he took, he took to save the common people but saving the people didn't coincide with doing the right thing.

For me, the most important part of the second book was when Xie Lian talked about the injustice of the Guilded Banquet. "He simply felt deeply wronged. He’d acted with such benevolence, but he didn’t receive equivalent kindness in return... I just don’t think it’s right for someone to have been kind but still meet a bad end. I don’t think it should have ended up this way."

Truer words have not been said!! I think one of the hardest aspects of doing the right thing, the kind thing, being morally and ethically inclined is that in this world, benevolence is rarely reciprocated. And I needed Xie Lian to say it. And he did. And I was glad that he admitted to it all.

Because despite knowing that kindness will not guarantee paradise, it may even lead to chaos, to him (and to me), it's still the right thing to do. That's why he wanted Qianqiu to continue being kind, even when the consequences were nonsense. That's why he'd take the blame and bear the responsibility.

Flowers and Butterflies, the cyclical nature of Hualian's fate

Finally, I really wanted to talk about Hualian and their intertwined fate. When Xie Lian saved Hua Cheng during the procession, he appeared like a white ethereal butterfly. And later when Hua Cheng rescues him, he uses his butterflies (deadly to others but gentle to xie lian) to break into Heaven. 'Hua' means flower is what Xie Lian saves at first and what becomes a symbol of his gentleness. And then later, Hua Cheng is the one who sought flowers and protected Xie Lian.

Also Hua Cheng is said to bring misfortune to all those around him and Xie Lian is the darling of the Heavenly Emperor. But he ends up believing that he's unlucky and causes harm to everyone near him and isolates himself while Hua Cheng always says that he's the luckiest.

In a way, their fates have been reversed. But also, they directly or indirectly brought fortune/misfortune in each other's life. Maybe it can be said that Xie Lian's ascension, which I think was his misfortune, was a result of Hua Cheng's star of solitude. Maybe Hua Cheng's power is Xie Lian's blessings. Or maybe everything has been fated and destined to happen exactly as it happened. Either way, I think it's neat.

[drdemonprince]

Recently, I've observed a pattern in my friendships where I connect with people who tend to be people pleasers or are less confident in expressing their thoughts. Given my neurodivergence and direct communication style, I've received feedback about sounding righteous, making them feel unsafe to share. How can I navigate these situations more effectively or seek out individuals with stronger personalities who appreciate straightforwardness?

P.s. it makes me feel so bad every time this happens, it’s not my intent to hurt people and I feel very rejected.

I have a bit of experience with this dynamic myself. Those of us who are read as negative or difficult to please can unwittingly be appealing to people pleasers, because it reminds them of people who have genuinely mistreated them and fraught family or relational dynamics of their past that have dug a real deep groove into their brain. Unfortunately the very qualities that feel familiar to them also burn them, because they want to win us over and soften us, but we're already just being ourselves and not abusive and don't need to soften. I've honestly been on both sides of this dynamic -- the person who keeps accidentally hurting someone's feelings and the one getting hurt with glib comments, incompatible communication styles, or whatever else.

That's just one of many dynamics at play of course. We're both traumatized, othered groups of people who may gravitate to one another because we share so many struggles in common -- but our triggers and sensitive points can be incompatible. When someone expects me to read their mind and pre-empt their needs, for example, it freaks me the fuck out because I've put a lot of work into no longer being that kind of person. At the same time, it's okay and normal for a friend to want you to understand the basics of what makes them comfortable and uncomfortable and to consider their feelings and needs.

Sometimes it's just a conflict one needs to talk through. I have plenty of cherished friends who are sensitive or people-pleasing in nature, and we can make it work because they don't view me in a negative light -- they fundamentally see me as someone they care about and like, and so even if they suddenly feel like I'm making fun of them or have left them out, they are able to check that instinct against the reality they know of me and we can talk about it or they can work on the feeling on their own as the case warrants. If I do say something hurtful or miss the mark, a lot of my closest friends are the types who can tell me, and then it's my job to not freak the fuck out on them or to feel controlled or penned in by them sharing that intimacy with me... sometimes I'm still not the best at it. but lord have i gotten better.

I think one has to just keep endeavoring to be oneself and to communicate early and often. I don't think the solution is ever to censor oneself or to feel that your true self deep down is too cruel or wrong for people to love. I used to really feel that way and still struggle with that sometimes, especially when I hurt people. It can be easy to feel, if you're a kind of negative/blunt seeming person like me, to feel that any time a person shares with you that they are hurt, that they are trying to censor or control you. Sometimes that very much happens. But it isn't always the case. Sometimes a person just wants reassurance that you like them, that you didn't mean the remark in that way, or even just acknowledgement of their pain and that they aren't crazy for feeling how they feel. Not everyone who gets hurt is a crybully or manipulating. Just as not everyone who accidentally hurts people is abusive or cruel.

I used to really gravitate only toward other negative prickly people. I still like that "type" a lot. But there is no type that is wholly trustworthy or safe. I got burned plenty of times by trying to win over the friendship of someone who I thought surely would "Get" me, because they were also blunt and to the point, and I assumed that made them "real," but in actuality they were manipulating people and steamrolling people and trying to make people feel bad. Some people can only be "real" about candid negative opinions. They can't be really contrite. Or curious. or humble. or even tell you directly when they are hurt. They might only be passive aggressive and barbed instead (i have also been that person).

As always I think it's most important to look to a person's actions and the impact they have on others, as well as their own capacity to both self-advocate and to admit fault. Can this person reflect? Can this person say they were wrong or that their opinion changed? Can they own that they might see things in a biased way? That they have their own triggers? That they need things? Do they help people the way those people want to be helped? Do they behave in accordance with a consistence values system you can admire? Do you like how they think things through? Can they understand their own emotions to at least a responsible extent? Etc etc etc. Some people who tick off all the right boxes on these questions will be someone who is pretty sensitive and people-pleasy but working on it. And some of them will be people who are patholdogical demand avoidant naysayers with a chip off their shoulder but who can also be vulnerable. And most of us are all of those things I think.

[mossy-rainfrog]

[ID in Alt Text]

strolling in fashionably late to the two year anniversary of the greatest musical adaptation of Moby Dick of all time, Caleb Hayashida's 'Moby Dick or the Whale'. I've been thoroughly enamored with this album for over a year now and it only felt right to do a tribute for its birthday :)

now, go do yourself a favor and listen to Sea Fever 💙💙

some notes about the details I added under the cut!

Some notes on this as a tribute!

Firstly, as always, my Ishmael design is stolen from the beloved @pocketsizedquasar :3

Secondly, the primary songs captured by this piece are meant to be 'Interpretation', 'Whiteness of the Whale', and 'Whaleman's Hymn'. Interpretation is primary, since that song refers directly to the painting at Spouter Inn, and Ishmael's attempts to interpret it. (Aside: it's a brilliant song that foreshadows chords repeated during the chase, it confuses and delights the listener much like book Ishmael's ramblings do, and it odes to the album itself being an interpretation of a novel. also it's a bop. I fucking love it.) The whale in the picture is, you guessed it, the whale song. That one I felt was important to center as Hayashida himself intentionally put that song at the center of the album as a focal point for the rest to follow around (and for the narrative to break inside - give it a listen, the end is incredible). It's literally the centerpiece. And finally, the lyrics are from Whaleman's Hymn, the gorgeous ode at the end of the album.

Ishmael is also posed as both moving and stagnant in the center as a reference to the cyclical nature of Hayashida's album. It ends with the same lyrics it begins with ("I must be out to sea"), and so here, Ishmael meant to be caught in the space between both of those songs. Moving and yet unable to move from where he is.

The watery effect was particularly inspired by Drifting, as that song fills me with an immense sense of peace and gives me the feeling of laying down at an aquarium watching the light of the water dance around. It also helps make the mood of the piece a bit more dynamic, as the looming painting, dissonant colors, and heavy shading all feel a bit foreboding, and the water effect both enhances that by giving an unnatural feel, and subdues that by communicating a semblance of peace and muting the colors.

The oil effect and jagged colors of the piece itself are references to the official album cover art! The flaming harpoon's colors are mimicked in the red light at the top of the painting, and the bright teal/white is mimicked in the whale at the bottom. They're also positioned over each other, just like on the album cover.

The painting itself is also supposed to be reminiscent of The Chase, in all its chaotic glory. Hayashida has an INSANE stroke of genius with that song where, at a certain point, two different time signatures overlap to show the whale opposing the crew/Ahab. The blend is so smooth that it's easy to miss if you aren't looking for it, and yet so brilliant that it makes you anxious for the buildup and final clash. The saturated opposing colors are supposed to be something of a nod to that, as well as the nature of the painting being a sinking ship and a white whale lol

So, yeah those are my notes! :D thank you for reading and definitely give this masterpiece a listen!! 💙💙

[lixxen]

It Takes Two AU Headcanon Masterpost

Based off of the song It Takes Two from Trolls Band Together :)

Full HC UTC

--

The portal accident happened when Danny was 5 and Jazz 7

Instead of Danny staying in the human world, it brought him into the Ghost Zone and the portal broke

Nobody knows what happened to Danny in the human world. They knew the portal turned on by itself and failed, but nothing else. They do not correlate the two events together. They spent a whole year searching for Danny before declaring him fully missing

Frost Bite found Danny and took him in, raising Danny and recognizing Danny is a Halfa with a ice core

Danny is raised amongst the ghosts and is fully knowledgeable in ghost mannerisms and culture. He does get human food through one or two ghosts who will bring it to him

He is still hunted by Skulker, but it is less of a danger since he is protected by Frost Bite. He actually has a relationship with most ghosts. Whether it's good or bad is up to you (I can list it out specifically if anyone cares or want specific dynamics)

He hates Christmas but loves Holiday Truce. Idk if that makes sense. Him and ghost writer still have beef.

Danny is the GZ's core and is destined to defeat Pariah Dark and become the Ghost King. Many ghosts know this and hope that if they keep the prophecy under wraps, it won't happen. It just says a Halfa of the ghost realm. It could be Vlad! (It cannot be Vlad)

Danny runs into Vlad naturally and they have no idea he is Danny Fenton. He knows his name is Danny but goes by Phantom. So Vlad just sees him as an annoying Halfa child that bothers him sometimes

The three activate the portal by accident later on, but it doesn't turn them into Halfas. Just opens the portal. They become a small team of ghost hunters

Jazz becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and create an older sister type of friendship. She keeps them out of trouble and mentors them

They aren't on horrible terms with the A Listers due to Jazz being more popular. It surprisingly causes them to be looked down upon, but not bullied. Light hazing behind Jazz's back if so

Jazz and Danny both always feel like something is missing; Jazz knowing she has a little brother out there and Danny not knowing his real family

The A Listers and the Ghost Trio (Sam, Danny, and Jazz) all go out into the ghost zone together one day

The A Listers get disconnected and the Ghost Trio have to go find Frost Bite, who they met once before. He allied themselves with them after realizing the connection to Danny

The Ghost Trio are met with Phantom protecting the territory and they realize that he looks a lot like Danny. Or, what they'd expect Danny to look like now

Danny is ready to fight them, but realizes that they're not trying to attack him. He backs off and they talk.

He mentions his name is Danny Phantom, and Jazz asks if he was once Danny Fenton. Danny is caught off guard and says that the name sounds familiar, but he doesn't know. He's been there since he was a kid. He transforms back into his human form to show them he isn't a full ghost

They realize that it is in fact Danny and they freak out. Jazz is crying and hugging Danny, who is shocked and hasn't had contact with a human in years.

He breaks down crying after a few minutes.

He asks her everything and she explains the whole situation and how their parents kept up their ghost stuff, desperate to find out if Danny was dead or not

Danny is amazed and he is just glad that he found his sister

Then he realizes that he can't let them go back home so he tries to convince them to stay with him and that they're safer in the Zone than outside of the Zone

They refuse and eventually convince him to go back with them. He doesn't agree at first and tells them this is their home. They explain that the human realm was his home first and that it's their home. They can't just leave it

Danny thinks it over and they spend ends up going with them to get back the A Listers

The A Listers are so confused by Danny being there but are glad they had help. They then find out about Danny and are shocked

Danny ends up going home with them and reunite with their parents. But they don't tell him he's half ghost. Just that he was stuck in the Zone for 8 years

They all cry. Yippee.

Danny befriends Sam and Tucker! The A Listers treat him like they do when they find out he's Phantom in the show

He goes towards school!! He gets to fight the ghosts when they start coming through, and they actually respect him for the most part. They all know what's up. But they still fight him. They're still being chaotic ghosts causing problems

He's doing that double life y'all.

A year later, Danny does end up fighting Pariah and becoming king. He rules from the human realm until he gets out of high school then goes to half ghost zone half human realm ruling. It's a hard life for Danny