#and seems to have developed feelings for both of them (though with this development I consider his feelings for Jin questionable)

[sukuna-ryo]

The Best Friend

(Preview)

Geto × Reader × Gojo pairing

Trigger warnings: NSFW content, including sexually explicit scenes (maybe). Poly Relationship (eventually). Emotional manipulation and power dynamics. Private relationship between counsellor and counselee is unethical so please don't date your therapist. MINORS DNI

You’ve been working at the corporate counseling department for a few months now, and one thing’s been constant: Gojo Satoru. The man, somehow, is always in your office. He’s the CEO of the company, but it seems like he’s always got some reason to book a session. At first, it felt like a weird formality, but now, you’ve gotten used to it. And honestly, you’re starting to understand why he needs so many counseling sessions. Gojo’s got this playful, carefree vibe that makes it hard to take him seriously. He’s the type of guy who seems like he’d rather make jokes than have a real conversation, but when he does talk about something deeper, you can see there’s more to him than just the annoying, charming guy who skips into your office like he owns the place.

One thing that keeps popping up, though, is his best friend. Gojo won’t stop talking about him, but he’s super vague. “Ah, my best friend? He’s too popular with girls. You really don’t want to know about him,” Gojo says, flashing that trademark grin. It’s almost like he’s trying to protect you from the guy, or maybe just doesn’t want you to meet him for reasons you can’t quite figure out—even though you’re only asking for counseling reasons.

As if that wasn’t enough, your best friend, Kugisaki Nobara, decided you were “ready” to get back out there, and set you up on a blind date. Of course, you tried to protest—you're not exactly looking for anything serious, especially not right now—but Nobara wouldn’t have it. She pushed you out of your comfort zone, and before you could say “philosophy,” you were sitting across from Geto Suguru, a calm, collected philosophy professor with a steady gaze and a soft smile.

Geto was, well... the opposite of Gojo. He’s polite, well-mannered, and you could tell he’s a genuinely kind person. His quiet intelligence made for interesting conversation, and unlike Gojo, Geto’s not the type to fill every second with jokes and antics. He seems to enjoy deep, thoughtful talks, which you find yourself looking forward to more with each date. Yet, there's one thing Geto mentions way too often. His best friend.

“Oh, him? Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Geto sighs, rubbing his temples. “He’s just... too annoying. I can’t even deal with him half the time. You don’t need that stress.”

You’re getting the sense that both of these guys have a mysterious best friend that’s somehow never worthy of a proper introduction. It’s all starting to feel a little too convenient. But hey, you’re just the counsellor for one, and there for good conversation and some nice dates with the other, right?

And while you’ve been getting to know them both separately, you can’t ignore the fact that you’re kind of enjoying their company. Gojo’s the kind of guy who can’t help but be annoying but somehow keeps you laughing even when he’s totally out of line. You can’t deny his charm, even if he drives you nuts sometimes. And Geto? Well, he’s just... easy to be around. Calm, collected, and honestly, you could spend hours talking to him about anything.

Sometimes, though, the way Geto talks about the world makes you pause—just for a second. It’s nothing obvious, just a word here or there, a tone that lingers too long. You brush it off, but it leaves you with an odd feeling you can’t quite shake.

You’re not exactly ready to call it anything serious, but as the weeks go by, you start realizing that you’re developing a little soft spot for both of them. They’re nothing alike, but that’s exactly what makes them so interesting.

What you don’t know, though, is that while you’re out here juggling dates and sessions with Gojo and Geto, something seems to be shifting in each of them. They both find themselves thinking about you more than they’d planned, though neither of them would admit it.

[kurishiri]

my thoughts on the presence (or rather, lack thereof) of dub-con in alfons’ route in en

thank you for the ask anon! since it contains spoilers for al’s route, i will put under a cut. also it is a long post!

hi anon! i did notice this, yes! they also made changes to some other scenes as well for a similar purpose. as far as i heard, it is sort of a general trend for the en localization to water down scenes that may be considered dub- or non-con; apparently, they have done this with other ikémen series games like iképri.

in alfons’ case, though, i have some mixed feelings overall abt doing so in this route. i hope i can explain myself ok!

on one hand, i think making it more “soft” so to speak does make it feel more accessible for readers in the western fanbase, who in general seem more sensitive (?) to the presence of dub- or non-con, compared to japan. i would honestly love for many people to be able to read his route and not feel super uncomfy? while doing so. so in this respect, i can get behind this decision.

that said.

i feel like other aspects of the story have been sacrificed as a result of this. i believe that, in the original story, scenes play out the way they do for a reason. if there is dub-con, they probably arent putting it all in just for the teehee dubious consent teehees. for example, part of what made this story interesting to me in the japanese version was that against the so-called conventional notion, sex was not used as a means to bring characters closer together, but more so as a way to make them more distant. theres this sort of irony and a theme of isolation (ironically in part due to sex) that i felt was more apparent in japan, in part highlighted due to the dub-con. i feel like making kate want this beforehand is more safe, yes, but also it sort of waters down this irony a bit compared to japan imho.

another consequence is in kate’s character. i think its kind of a strange change that in some parts of the story surrounding those scenes, kate is pretty insistent on facing reality to the fullest, but then one ask from alfons and shes ready to indulge in a fantasy, away from reality, as she asked for it. but despite that, she tries to push him as far away as she can. it sort of makes me feel there’s a gap or blip in her character if that makes sense. part of what made these scenes dub-con maybe is how alfons wanted to give an escape to kate via sex, but kate didn’t want that escape bc she wants to face reality. it creates more conflict between them.

part of kates character development in alfons’ route, too, is going from being staunch in the start of the story, to learning, questioning, and deciding for herself what is considered right? and what is considered wrong? as the story progresses. but with the whole kate wanting it since the beginning, this flaw is sort of lost since the start, making her development feel a bit more static, as by her saying yes to alfons since the beginning, it already establishes her as someone who wants to see reality, but also knows to see the benefit in an escape or a fantasy, when this is sort of what she is meant to develop into by the end.

ftr im not saying these things r completely lost! just that they feel a bit watered down? a bit less engaging? if thats the word, as a kinda byproduct of softening up the dub-con scenes. so i feel the impact may be a bit less compared to japan. but, again, i do understand why they chose to make such changes as well to en.

overall, i dont hold very negative thoughts abt it. nor do i really fully like it either. maybe its bc i play on both servers, but i feel like en just… doesn’t get an experience you could get in japan, which kinda gives me mixed feelings in a way as well, i suppose. i kind of feel that en deserves to read what was dished out in japan, without it being chosen for the fanbase what should be hidden from them (had there not been fan translators translating stuff more “word for word.”)

[tarithenurse]

Don't hide it

Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Loki Odinson x/& fem!reader Word count: 1071 Content: Pining, shyness, too much empathy, fluff. A/N: Waiting for a better idea so here’s this in the meantime. Feel free to reblog if you liked it – it’s always nice with new readers. Comments are fuel for more!

Don’t hide it

Following in your friend’s footsteps, you’re grateful that Loki knows you well enough to draw you away from the feast and all the people there. Few will miss him even though he’s a prince and you...well, you’re no one important save for a rich man’s daughter who is too timid to mingle with the upper echelon of Asgard.

After a quick detour past a storage room and the kitchens, Loki and you have gathered ample supplies to last you the night and have gone where no one will look for you: the hayloft above the stables.

Sitting on the soft blankets and furs, you can look down at the stalls with horses who are half asleep or chewing lazily on their fodder.

“Here,” Loki grins as he hands you a bottle of honeyed mead, “there’s lots.”

You’ve managed to snag fruits and cheeses and meats aside from quite a few bottles of the sweet drink.

Allowing the contents of the bottle to soothe your throat, you sneak a glance at your friend who’s doing the same. You notice how his throat bobs with each pull, how his jaw bone could cut glass...and then you have to look away before your thoughts get carried to unwanted territory.

You’ve known Loki since you were five and you’ve been close friends since then. You’ve also, regrettably, developed a deeper attraction to the prince over the last few years – one that you know will never be a possibility. That’s what makes it so painful to be with him: he is the only one who knows you truly...and still you can’t tell him this one thing for fear of ruining a friendship.

“Mother is starting to host more of these balls, it seems,” Loki muses.

I’ve noticed it too. And you know why.

“Of course...both you and your brother are still not betrothed or even in relations with anyone,” you shrug before you can stop yourself.

Loki falls onto his back with a groan. “I shall let Thor have this without competition.” Another groan. “Betrothed. Relations. No thank you.” Then he props himself up by the elbow. “What about you? Are your parents not inviting suitors over for you?”

You grimace at the thought. “I’m sure it will come soon enough.”

“I can imagine it...you being the hostess and the centre of attention.”

Looking about for strands of hay to braid, you don’t notice the darkness in his eyes and he schools his facial expression before you look up at him again.

“I’d rather die,” you sigh.

It’d be torture having to greet one suitor after the other. You don’t feel comfortable around stranger or in the company of many people. That’s why you’d agreed to sneak out of this night’s feast when Loki suggested it.

Keen to change the subject too, Loki studies your features for a moment. He quite likes how you always keep your hands occupied and he’s said so in the past. He’s the only one who seems to like your odd habits.

“Not that I do not cherish our little escapades away from the crowds...but we must see to cure you of your shyness,” he suddenly announces.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you shoot back.

He shrugs. “Depends what you fear by being near them.”

“It is not fear it is...” You have to search for the right term but come up with nothing. “It’s as though I sense all they feel, all their sentiments. Anger, joy, sadness.”

“Love?”

“Sometimes, yes...but not always.”

Loki takes a swig from the bottle, clearly considering your words. “Then you must learn to shift your attention to their physical presence instead.”

You can’t hold back the hopeless laugh. “How?”

“Imagine them naked.”

You almost choke on the mead, having all too clearly imagined him naked before you – not for the first time but more clearly now.

“Then I think I would be equally shy albeit for different reasons,” you argue once you can speak again, avoiding to meet his gaze.

Falling back on the furs and blankets, none of you say anything for a while. The only sounds are from the large creatures below and a mouse tip-tapping along a secret path on the other side of the hay.

You know Loki is thinking. He always thinks.

“Perhaps...you must simply trust that you are better than them,” he offers softly.

A scoff escapes your lips. There’s no reason to state the obvious and Loki should know as much.

Hearing the rustle of the hay beneath the furs, you sense more than see Loki scoot closer until you are lying next to each other. Then he reaches to cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his.

“I mean it. Why can’t you see it?” he admonishes softly. There’s something you can’t figure out in his voice and his gaze. Something almost painful. “You read people better than anyone I know...and you know me better than anyone...why won’t you trust me?”

His hand is cool on your skin. For a brief second your eyes stray to his lips and a sudden urge to kiss him fill you...yet you do nothing. You just close your eyes and relish the nearness.

“It’s not that I do not trust you, Loki,” you begin to explain, “but you’re my friend a-”

“Don’t take my word for it as a friend. Hear me as...as a man,” he growls, causing shivers to run down your spine and something to bloom in the pit of your stomach. “I see all the other ladies at the feasts yet none of them are as wonderful as you.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with blazing sincerity. “What do you mean?”

“For someone as emotionally gifted, you truly are dense right now.”

You would have recoiled at his harsh words. Would have served a rebuttal or asked for a clarification once more, maybe. But all of that is lost to you the moment his dips his head down and kisses you.

Fierce. Lips pressing hard together and noses squishing together slightly. You’re too surprised to do anything but grasp of the collar of his tunic, holding you steady in a world that suddenly seems to dip and rotate around the two of you.

You’re both out of breath by the time he pulls back, watching you intently.

“Do you understand now?” he asks quietly.

You nod. Then pull him down for a kiss more.

[guiltycorp]

I feel the most upset over Mel though... realised this when i saw how my fellow fujoshis have reacted to her involvement in jayvik jdfhgfd, the Viktor parallels that i have always enjoyed and pointed out before are now treated as Yaoi Proof and nothing else. ...because well yeah they lead nowhere else this season sadly, her relevance was cannibalized by her future league iteration and by fandom's reductive approach to shipping. To me the parallels used to be interesting because Viktor and Mel in s1 were polar opposites in social standing/background & physical health and visibly disliked each other BUT they were more or less on the same page when it came to their rather centrist but ultimately pacifistic beliefs, and they both were enamored by Jayce's ambition from the second they heard him talk about magic, inserting themselves into his life immediately. Those comparisons and visual symmetry were compelling because Jayce was lowkey trying to find a way to unite the two most important people in his life (telling Mel about Viktor's importance to him, trying to get Viktor to accept his involvement in politics, having them in the room together) while technically opposing both of them ideologically by not caring that much either about applying hextech for the benefit of the Undercity or about Piltover's participation in global politics and preserving its neutral status. While initially it seemed like he had to 'choose' between them, ultimately their separate character journeys (Viktor with Hexcore and killing Sky, Jayce with Vi and killing a zaunite kid, Mel with hearing her mother's justifications of war) led them to be on the same page in the last episode of the season which was a cool twist. So logically for character growth they either needed to improve their relationships further or to have sudden conflict, right? ...but s2 ultimately went for... just getting rid of both Mel and Viktor entirely! Viktor's motivation to give himself more time to leave more of a mark on the world (and finally getting to feel good about his own efforts by focusing on the Undercity rather than working for Piltover's financial benefit) was overshadowed by Hexcore corruption and a sudden inexplicable wish to transform humanity into a hivemind, that's a different guy entirely. Mel's motivations ended up not mattering at all, the only progression was her hardening into a proper warrior, like sure yay... her vision for Piltover and her identity as a Medarda was rewritten by sudden magical powers that ultimately, yeah, also make her into a different character. She did have a brief argument with Jayce over seeing him as an 'investment' of sorts but they didn't even get to finish it and their relationship is just one big ? before Jayce fucks off to die alongside his one true partner, like all of their previous loving interactions were just a situationship they both easily moved past without even acknowledging it. Like sure yeah we got our yaoi fanservice but at the expense of female characters and previously established relationships and plotlines... And btw there's a lot to be said about the cowardly approach of the showrunners to once again centering a 'male friendship and brotherhood' while getting pissy at anyone who might interpret it as romantic at the same time, as if a canon lesbian romance is a great excuse to be saying shit like that. Also imo timebomb pairing got more actual development and emotional investment compared to CaitVi in this season despite how hollow Jinx's character felt, so there's still a vibe that a hetero ship was more interesting to the writers... while the only things they wanted from queer ships were the aesthetic and the fan engagement.

[ellieslittleburrow]

Requested by : @whats-goingon22 : John Winchester comes back to find a fully grown daughter he does not recognize. How do they both react, knowing that John Winchester was never a good father? (Full request)

Warnings : Swear words, death of a father, and a heartbreak?

A/N : i'm so sorry 😂😭🤍 i've been wanting to develop my writing style and so writing the way " i do" has been sooo torturous. It's like you want out of your skin but you're stuck into it.

-------

John winchester is the ghost of your life. The fruit of one too many dreams to count.

He existed more in your sleep than he ever did in your physical life. He, in the most literal of ways shaped you, the person you are now- a blessing in some cases but mostly a curse. He was definitely In your life. Just never in a happy way, though.

The itsy bits of life you've shared with him went from dada, to daddy to father and then to sir!

One specific moment haunted you, a moment that came to look different as you grew older. Your father had you cradled in his arms, he'd held you tightly as tears streamed down your cheeks. He'd shushed you and held you tightly before turning on his heels and leaving. You'd thought you hurt him to the point that he couldn't face you anymore, but the reality of that moment was that John Winchester couldn't bear the face of terror, even on a child.

He couldn't bear the vulnerability of a child. He left because he was ashamed of your humanity.

A humanity that faded as the years went by- Even when he was still around. You could never be yourself around him and soon enough you forgot how to be yourself, how to feel. You lost a part of yourself that completely dissapeared with John's death.

But still, Just the thought of him elevated the hairs on your arms-and you thought about him a lot-it worked your stomach up in a way nothing else could have. It would stiffen your mucles and somehow work it's way to your intestines, twisting them in knots.

It physically and mentally hurt. Always. fucking. have.

But now, as you stood before him at the bottom of the bunker stairs, a different kind of pain surged through you, one you've never experienced before. Because as much as you wished you'd see him-you actually never thought you would. But there he was standing before you.

John Winchester.

------

You walked down the bunker stairs, your ears pricking up to an...ambiguously familiar voice.

"Hey-"

Sam abruptly shot up from his seat, jolting your fight or flight response in the process. Curiously pushed you forward as you walked the last steps, startling when your eyes landed on him-the fourth person in the room.

And you wished they hadn't. Because as your heart pounded in your chest, you froze, you completely froze.

The bunker went quiet and....Da....D...J-Jo-John seemed to be just as confused as you were. Just as shocked.

It felt wrong seeing him, saying his name-looking at him. He looked older, somewhat wiser. His face worn down by the traces of his fights, haunting his every feature. He watched you just as you watched him back, mouth agape-

All those things you'd said to him in your dreams. All the fights you'd had with him about how badly he treated you. About the emptiness he left within you. The constant look out for that fatherly love you'd so desperately hunted for. Nowhere, because your voice had failed you.

Just then, you noticed that your chest was heaving and you...You couldn't. You couldn't be here anymore-you...You needed to breathe. And so you took off running.

The silence in your room felt hauntingly suffocating as it allowed your thoughts overflow. And you realized then- You've never ever gotten over it. Having Sam and Dean was nothing less than a blessing. But they could never seal the hole left aching.

But...but he looked different and you...you...he's here and...Maybe you should...

You leaped off bed and sprinted to the door, sticking your ear to the latter. Their voices were quite drowned but... They suddenly went quiet. Does that mean...Does that mean he's leaving again?

No...No..NO.

As you flung open the door, an "I'm ready" from the other side of the hallway caused adrenaline to rush through you. And you sprinted.

"DADDY"

A loud shout surged from your throat as you rounded the last corner, crashing into your father's arms just as a loud thump echoed throughout the room.

Sam crushing the pearl only had you grip your father's jacket tight. As if your embrace could keep him in place. Like an achor in an angry sea.

Your dad envelopped you just as tightly, each hand gripping the opposite shoulder. A firm hold-one that would usually hurt-but instead, one that only felt like a plea for forgiveness, for all the wrong doings, for the void.

But then, just like that, all the weight around your body, the weight you leaned onto vanished. And you felt light again, a physical lightness that complemented the heaviness consuming you.

You fell to the ground, just as your whole world collapsed. All those walls you build to protect yourself, all that strength you dug from god knows where. All gone.

Your chest swelled and an ugly sob broke free of you, followed by a pool of tears that begged the question : am i happy or am i sad?

As you lie there, overwhelmed, another figure leaned over you, holding you in a protective embrace, murmuring words that outpaced your own thoughts.

And although you were lost, you knew for sure that-you finally had your goodbye.

-----

Hii! What do we thiiink ? Hope yall enjoyed this and see you next tiime!🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀

[atheneum-of-you]

How did you know or come into knowing that you were to be a priest/priestess of Hermes? It seems like an odd concept to me. That and 'godspousing'???????

I think from an outside perspective it'd be fairly odd, huh?

Personally, I can't speak on godspousing. It's not something I've ever even considered in my life nor something I think applies to my kind of worship. And while I have my personal opinions on it, I don't think that really matters honestly.

When it comes to priestesshood though, I was told through a dream! While it wasn't directly said in that dream, the dream I had did come after some thoughts of priestesshood and honestly, I wouldn't even consider it a dream. It was so far removed from any dream I had ever had and I know for certain I wasn't asleep when it happened.

After that, I did A LOT of confirmation readings with Hermes on it with both tarot and oracle cards. Why he chose me as one of his to train, I honestly have no clue. I've asked many times and he's given answers but none of them seem fully complete to me. I had never even considered worshipping him until very recently and then very quickly after that I was called to priestesshood. I think once a god has developed any sort of interest in you, anything is possible.

Honestly it kinda feels like he grabbed me by the scruff of my neck like a cat and threw me over his shoulder. I've been worshipping the gods for years but never had it been like this. Sometimes I still have doubts and wonder if I'm making it all up in my head but then I pull cards that say "no this is the path you belong on."

I hope that answered? I feel like I definitely just rambled lmao. But yeah! It's a strange feeling and was a strange very whirlwind process. Kinda just happened.

[winters-on-the-wing]

my impression of the marauders as somebody who is extremely new to the fandom

this will probably make people mad. i am ready for that.

remus lupin -> he seems cool. his lore is fascinating. imagine being bitten by a werewolf and having your entire life ruined just because somebody has beef with your dad. that's some tea. i think his personality is cool, he seems very rough-and-tumble while also being quiet and plaintive, and i love how he has more street-smarts than book-smarts. the chocolate jokes are already getting old, though, i fear. besides aren't dogs allergic to chocolate?

sirius black -> this guy also seems cool. i like his natural swagger he's got going on. i hate how people are framing him as some "puppy dog" character when he's clearly got such a suave and effortless cool factor that clearly differentiates him from the others. i also think his lore is interesting. i love when the older sibling is the scapegoat, i feel like so often, the younger sibling is victimized in fandoms and i like the little reverse of expectations with that.

james potter -> THIS GUY IS MY FAVORITE HE IS LITERALLY ME. i think jegulus is stupid (to me, it just seems like a bunch of walking talking tropes, no real substance, and i hate how it frames james as some overly-masculinized knight-in-shining-armor archetype with no real personality of his own besides being regulus' savior), and i love how he defends lily from the others' teasing. i adore how his lore and personality set him up for such an interesting character development. it is so interesting to follow an uncorrupted child who has never known pain, to see him throw himself into harm's way because he feels like he has to. i also LOVE that he is a deer because i've always seen myself a deer-like sort of person. and oh did i mention that james is literally me? also his personality seems like such a nice mix of mr. popular and a fantastical, elvish presence.

peter pettigrew -> idk how to feel about him. he kinda pisses me off but i also feel like too many people are writing him off when he has the potential to be just as interesting a character as all the others. i kind of resent the idea that he was a "traitor" type from the start because the idea of him being a traitor is supposed to be a huge surprise that nobody saw coming. i love the idea of him being like a well-meaning jokester sort of person who sometimes goes too far, but just wants to be liked and wants to belong very badly.

regulus black -> okay so this is probably very unpopular but i think regulus is such an interesting antagonist. i don't want to redeem him. i don't want to ship him with any of the marauders. i think he best serves the universe as an antagonist role, somebody who holds so much bitterness and fear in his soul, to the point where he is destroying himself and everything around him to try and get what he wants - but the problem is that he does not know what he wants. i previously mentioned that i think the ship between him and james is dumb, and i stand by that. i think it would be cooler if regulus and james were sort of like enemies, though not overtly. regulus feels like james is taking away sirius and further corrupting him, destroying who sirius was. james feels like regulus is preventing sirius from growing and escaping his life of misery. but the thing is, they both love sirius. just in very complex ways. i love the idea of regulus being a tortured villain, his situation does not excuse his awful actions, but they explain them in a way that makes your heart ache for him, and then makes you feel like a weird asshole for feeling bad for him. that just seems so cool to me.

lily evans -> this is MY GIRLLL. i think she is so cool, so sweet and smart. the only thing with her that i find a bit annoying is that she's close with snape, who i find super annoying. but i love her attitude and her vibe. she's a strong woman without being one of those obnoxious "i'm a strong female character" archetypes. her strength lies in her actions, not her words. i also do think that her relationship with james is adorable and i hesitate to throw it away for the sake of gay ships, but i do think canon deviance with the marauders ships offers so much creative freedom, so james is not the only person i could potentially see her with. i think she could offer such an amazing platonic role in any story, and i hate the notion that the only storyline she offers is a romantic connection with james.

marlene mckinnon -> again, i am obsessed with her. i do not know much about her compared to the other characters, but what i do know about her, i love. i think she is so fun, and her personality is a great mix of strength and integrity. she sort of reminds me of a happier version of katniss from the hunger games. willing to fight for what she believes in, but she uses her power to support her values. i also feel like she and katniss have a similar dry humor that is so funny without even trying. i also love the idea that out of all the marauders, she is among the ones with the least emotional intelligence, in the sense that she isn't a "voice of reason" character like lily is. i hate when all of the woman characters are magically emotional geniuses.

severus snape -> i think he is incredibly annoying and i hate the narrative that he's just a poor baby who was bullied by the marauders. i just feel like he has such a victim complex about everything, and a lot of jealousy when it comes to his relationship with lily. i get that he did not have as much social power as the marauders, but if you play with fire, you're going to get burnt. i don't view him as completely unsympathetic per se, but i much prefer to view him from an antagonistic lens. he just seems like such a whiner. like if you don't want people to make fun of you, then don't be an asshole to them? maybe i am being overly harsh, but as somebody who was bullied, i think it is ridiculous to frame snape's situation as bullying because he is literally such an instigator. the whole point of bullying is that it is unprompted. like come on he is NOT a little wet cat of a victim.

and the other characters, i do not know enough about to form a coherent opinion. i do know of dorcus, alice, preston, and emmaline, but not nearly enough. i would love some advice on who they are and what they contribute to the story!

also i have not read all of "all the young dudes", i made it to chapter nine and then got overwhelmed by all the names, so i got the quick cliffsnotes of the lore from my best friend. i don't care about spoilers, i would actually love them!

also please don't get mad about my opinions, this is all lighthearted and again, i don't know shit about this fandom so i am pulling most of this out of my ass.

[velvetshirtnumber3]

And here we thought Non would fall in love with Jin....turns out it might be the other way around and now we know Non has a thing with Phee!

Now I'm torn because I kind of liked Phee and Jin as a ship but I liked the ghost-ship of Macau and Chay and now their actors are playing characters who are going to become a couple so... I guess we'll see what happens.

[aikoiya]

Thank you! I'm glad!

Though, it's not that I disliked the dragons. The dragons themselves were cool. It's just their designs I had issue with. And they do look cool flying around in the sky… It's up close where I have my issues. I guess that I just really didn't like the shapes of their snouts & would've preferred a more lupin or vulpin shape like Zelda had rather than the… really odd face-shape that we got…

But even more than that, my biggest issue with the Zonai Dragons’ designs is the placement of their eyes! Ugh! How do you give gargantuan DRAGONS prey eyes??? That sort of placement is for spotting predators! Who’s going to hunt a massive eff-off dragon to such a degree that they develop prey eyes!? They should be facing forward on the skull, not to the sides like goldfish! Like, really! It doesn’t even make sense with them being transformed Zonai because the Zonai were very obviously predators, too! Both had sharp, flesh-tearing teeth & the dragons, specifically, had claws that were almost cat-like in their sharpness & curvature! And the heck did the third eye go!? Sorry, this likely seems super weird to fixate on. I will say that I liked the names they were given. Much more unique when compared to repeatedly giving vastly different spirits the same names over & over.

And, you might get a bit angry at me, but I actually liked the SS designs & I loved the little robes they had. Sure, I also think that they could very much be improved, likely by giving them more snout-like faces & horns, but still. At the same time, I actually don't like that they have the same names as the Light Spirits, because it just feels cheap to me. It’s because of this that I tend to rename them using a mix of their French & Japanese names, though tweaked a bit. Faron becomes Firona, Lanayru becomes Lanello, & Eldin becomes Eridin. As for the switch in element, it's possible that Nintendo went in those directions so that the dragons fit more with their environments. Lanayru with the yellows of the desert & Faron with the more cool tones of the woods. Plus, it may also be partly because of the abundance of water in the Faron Region as well as the Ancient Cistern being a very water-based dungeon. (Which, btw, I loved the Ancient Cistern! The sheer amount of Buddhist parallels is incredible & I love it for that!) It's even possible that the designers came up with the areas first & they made the dragons to fit. And, keep in mind that the Lanayru Desert was once a sea, so at that time, it would've been more Nayru aligned, but (& this is more so hc) I tend to believe that Nayru is actually the Goddess of Time from OoT & MM. If so, then she might've known that the sea would dry up & counselled Hylia to choose the protector of Nayru's Flame accordingly. We don't actually know much of how Faron's power over water works, but it's entirely possible that she's more waterbender than squirtle, meaning that she might only be able to manipulate water rather than actively produce it herself. So, while I agree that the switch is odd, I still think it's within the realm of plausibility.

Personally, if I were to be given the choice, I would actually make it so that Link & his friends find a way to sort of… Bring the Zonai Dragons’ minds back to them. In my mind, this would likely alter their physicality to a degree. Possibly allowing for more of a torso & forward-facing eyes like how the Great Dragons of SS had, which would sort of reduce the feeling of mindless animal I get from them & allow for a more sentient vibe, I think.

I suppose that it somewhat goes unspoken in my mind because I think he named it such unknowing that the ancient Hyrule of legend was real at one point. So, basically it's like how there's a city in Missouri named Avalon. Those who named it likely didn't believe that the actual legendary island of Avalon in Arthurian legend legitimately existed, but still named it that. Similarly, Arcadia California & Argos Greece are both named after places in Greek myth. Neither were believed to actually exist, but are named after such things anyway. By this I mean that I think that Rauru couldn't say something like that because, in his mind, there wasn't a ruined kingdom with the same name. From his perspective, he named it after what amounted to Camelot, an old if remarkable folktale.

Though, I do agree that it is sad that it almost feels like, in my suggestion, that the old Hyrule has been erased.

Actually! The desert, jungle, volcano, & even the Gerudo Highlands are fairly plausible because I tend to theorize that part of the reason that the desert changed from a meadow & sea in SS to a desert in all the others is because of whatever tectonic shift cause the Gerudo Highlands to slowly ascend, thereby creating a rain shadow! This means that because they’re so tall & on the leeward side of the desert, all the rain falls upon the Highlands rather than where the desert is! And even the jungle is possible if Hyrule itself is near their earth's equator! It's the Hebra mountains & Mount Lanayru that I'm finding odd in placement. Regardless, it's certainly possible that there's a degree of size dilation here, but I wouldn't go as large as a continent. Maaaybe a bit bigger than Japan because Japan actually has all of these climates! There's the Tottori sand dunes, the Okinawa Prefecture has rainforests, it has numerous volcanoes scattered all over the place, they even have their own alps. Which may be part of why Hyrule's map is so varied, because so is Japan’s.

Hmm… I think part of it might be that there's a lot less interference from the divinities in the Wild Era besides the Goddess Statues. Most everything is done on a mortal level, meanwhile earlier games had much more mention of destiny & whatnot. In some way, you could possibly correlate it to Hyrule having entered a more secular & “modern” period. As societies advance, they tend to become less religious. Though there was a definite influence of it in BotW, most of it was based around Zelda & her powers. And even then, she always struck me as struggling because of her more secular & scientific mindset. So, now that such is no longer necessary, I get the vibe that she’s somewhat abandoned those things partially due to her trauma.

Again, I actually agree with alot of what you bring up regarding the Sages. Though, I think that could've been alleviated by simply using a different word. But, again, I actually very much agree with the seeming lack of spiritual substance. In fact, there also seems to be a distinct lack of magic in the Wild Era as a whole. It all being replaced by technology fueled by magical energy without the mysticism of magic itself. To me, it's like trying to compare string cheese to gruyere. Simply put, there is no comparison in that gruyere is real cheese, while string cheese is only cheese in the most remote sense of the term in that, yeah, there's a tiny bit of dairy in there, but it's so heavily processed & full of chemicals that it's lost its soul.

Also, I very very much agree with the sentiment that when it comes to gaming absolute freedom doesn’t necessarily equate to more fun. Don’t get me wrong, it was very interesting to see all the different ways that people could get creative with the Zonai Devices & the Sheikah Slate, but by giving people so much power, it also allowed them to blunt force a lot of things. And, I honestly think that a lot of the disappointment I get from being able to literally explore everything from the moment you leave the Plateau/Sky Island could’ve been put off by spacing out the Runes you get throughout the game in a similar way to the old formula.

And, again, I also didn't like how you could just flippin’ go to Ganondorf & take him down immediately in the game. On the one hand, the fact that you can legitimately kill the demon king in your undies with nothing more than a stick & a prayer is absolutely hilarious! But on the other, it sort of cheapens things it feels like, ya know? I mean, there are games in the series where you didn’t need the Master Sword to kill him. One of which being the Silver Arrows, but it doesn’t stop the fact that Nintendo has sort of created this precedence & expectation for themselves.

Mmm… I think that the difference is that the Secret Stones’ abilities have been defined in a way that the Triforce of Power hasn't. By this I mean that the Secret Stones very specifically either enhance something that the wielder already possessed or it allows them to create an avatar (which, I think is an either/or sort of situation, you can do one or the other, but you can't do both). Meanwhile, the ToP's abilities have never really been explained in a satisfying way, but it does seem to just give people a power independent of the ones they already had.

Really?? I did not know that! Cool! I got rancor right! :D

Mmm… I'm not so sure about that. In my mind, MC is the literal next game after SS, which gives it a degree of leeway in what it's allowed to do in a similar way to the Wild Era being part of an alternate timeline that split off from SS would've.

---

Fair, I'll stick with Confluances. Also, I've always liked the word Promenade. It just sounds really nice & pleasing to the ears. :)

Hardcore agree with you there! I would love to see a Gerudo King that wasn't Ganondorf! It'd be really cool because we'd get some other frame of reference for how Gerudo Kings lead other than Ganondorf, who we never see lead at all!

Also, you're right, this IS getting long! 😆 But it's also been very enjoyable!

Hi, sorry if this is a bit rude. 😅 I guess that I was just wondering. How would Jabul Waters, Zora Cove, & Crossflows Plaza be named in French?

I'm trying to give Jabul Waters an interesting name that works to go with my hc & I came up with "Jabuleaux." And Google Translate tells me that Crossflows Plaza would be Place des Flux Croisés. And, I'm seeing that Anse is the term to refer to a cove &, if that's true, then would Zora Cove be Zoranse? At the same time, somewhere else, it said that Anse actually means beach.

And, I believe that a town by a swamp would have cher, quier, bren, brin, or Hor- in it?

I'm sorry if this is weird... 😅

Hi! Don't worry it's not rude or weird at all! I offered to help and I'm happy to do so :D

Did you check the official French translations? I had a surprisingly hard time finding the French version of the map online so here's a screenshot I took myself:

Jabul Waters = Eaux de Jabule (this one only appears when I zoom out)

Zora Cove = Baie Zora

Crossflows Plaza = Place de l'Estuaire

In case you didn't know the Zelda Wiki often lists names for places or characters in various languages in the "Nomenclature" section of its pages. It's very helpful especially if you're searching for the original Japanese names. If we look at at the different names for Crossflows Plaza we can see that a literal translation from Japanese would be something like "Exchanging Place". I checked the Jisho dictionary and it seems to be an accurate translation, though "Place for Cultural Exchanges" would be more meaningful.

It's not exactly a good name in English so it makes sense that the localization team would come up with something like Crossflows Plaza instead, which in my opinion does a very good job of stating that this is both the place where the river meets the sea and where the two Zora tribes traditionally meet each other.

Other European languages all settled for variations of "Estuary Plaza" ("Place de l'Estuaire" in French), which is fine but looses the "cultural exchanges" aspect of both the original name and the English translation.

I've been trying to come up with a French translation of "Crossflows Plaza" but it's not that easy. To me "Place des Flots Croisés" or "Place Flots-Croisés" would sound better than "Place des Flux Croisés", but I still find it a bit weird ("flot" meaning flow, tide or stream). "La Croisée des Flots" is another option if you agree to get rid of Plaza/Place (it means "the intersection/junction of streams"), but I don't think it works very well as a name.

You could also mix words to create a name the same way it was done in English, something like "Place Croiseaux" (croiser/cross + eau/waters). If any of my French speaking followers is feeling inspired, please share your ideas! :)

(I just thought of "Place Cruciflot" and found it too funny not to mention 😆 maybe it sounds too much like crucifix)

In French we also have the word "confluence" that has the exact same meaning as it does in English: either the meeting of two rivers or a gathering of some kind. So to me the most obvious translation would be something like "Place des Confluences" or maybe "Place Confluence", as it would preserve the dual meaning, but it's not very fancy or creative. Maybe we could simply change the spelling to something like Place Konfluans, the same way "Village Côtier" (Seaside Village) is spelled "Village Kothié" (Seesyde Village). But it doesn't look like a French word anymore so I'm not sure that's something you'd like.

As for Jabuleaux, it can work but I prefer the official translation "Eaux de Jabule". Same thing for Zoranse, we would say "Anse Zora" or "Anse des Zora". The official French translation is "Baie Zora" (Zora Bay), which I think is more appropriate given the size of the sea inlet (in my understanding an anse/cove is a small baie/bay and isn't very deep). I think maybe it should have been bay in English as well instead of cove, but I might be wrong! Also I believe "anse" isn't used as often as "baie" and might be confusing for most people, so I would go with "Baie Zora".

I'm not sure where you found this information about swamps and town names? I didn't find anything to confirm it but I might not have looked in the right places.

French towns are often ancient and their names can derive from other languages such as Celtic, Occitan, Flemish, or regional dialects, so that's a very difficult question and I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer ^^

I still did a little search and found an Old French word for swamp, "palud" or "palu", that still appears in some town names such as La Palud-sur-Verdon, Saint-Pierre-la-Palud, Lapalud, etc. (today we say "marais" or "marécage"). You might be right about "bren", it could be something like muddy in Gallic.

There's also "vign" or "mign" (from Celtic), as in Mignéville or Lévignac, or l'Île de Migneaux on the Seine river (this one's in my city!).

Near where I grew up is a town named Hazebrouck, it literally means "hare swamp" (brouck/broek = swamp in Flemish). For a bit more French flavor you could maybe use -broucq or -breucq instead of -brouck.

I think the vast majority of French people have no clue about all of that (I didn't except for the last one and it's more Flemish than French), so I'd say don't oversweat it ;)

And that's all! I hope you'll find this helpful ^^

[grandmaestershibe]

family picture

[benvoliotheorphan]

Me: Yeah I don’t think I can really ship Kratos with anyone. It’s just really hard for me to imagine him in any sort of romantic relationship. Yes I know he was married twice, but still-

God of War Ragnarok: Shows flashbacks of Kratos with Faye

Me, with tears in my eyes: Oh, okay, nevermind.

[longagoitwastuesday]

Kind of endearing that despite their obvious strained dynamic Utahime and Gojo trust each other

[pipermca]

New AO3 Tag Wrangling Policy and the Transformers Fandom

Edit in the event people come back to the original post: Please do not email AO3 about this issue. See their response about this issue!

(This is a long one, folks, but I think it's important.)

A new tag-wrangling policy on AO3 has the potential to create some massive confusion and chaos in the Transformers fanfic community, with regards to fandom tags. There is a Reddit post about it here with a focus on anime fandoms, but I want to give some concrete examples for the Transformers fandom on why we DO NOT WANT this, and why I think it's a horrible idea.

The Problem

Basically, AO3 is looking to get rid of the "All Media Types" fandom tag across the board, either by dismantling them or just not maintaining them. The Transformers - All Media Types tag has been an all-purpose tag that you could select when your story doesn't fall into any one specific continuity. Additionally, all most (see below) TF continuities on AO3 are considered a subtag of the Transformers - All Media Types tag. For example, if you look at the link above for all works in the All Media Types tag, you will see fics that are also tagged ONLY with Transformers: Animated, because it falls under the All Media Types tag.

One exception: With the upcoming Transformers: One movie coming out imminently, there will likely be a big influx of stories tagged with Transformers: One. In fact, there are several already. However, it hasn't been linked to the larger Transformers - All Media Types tag yet. I wasn't worrying about it though, because I know these things can take time.

With information about this new tagging policy, however, I'm now wondering whether it'll EVER get linked to the All Media Types tag. If that happens, and when more continuities are developed in the coming years (since you know Hasbro loves creating new universes) this has the potential to cause massive confusion when looking for stories to read.

Searching for Stories with the New Tagging System

So let's say the All Media Types fandom tag isn't accurate anymore, because it no longer includes ALL of the continuities (such as TF:One). You will need to include ALL the Transformers continuities when browsing for TF fics.

How many tags is that? Well, here are all of the tags currently listed under the Transformers - All Media Types tag:

Note that this doesn't include Transformers: One since it hasn't been categorized yet.

You will potentially have to have 40 or more different fandom tags in your search, just in case the author tagged their story with something you weren't expecting.

This massively decreases the findability of a story.

Tagging with the New System

The email response from the Tag Wrangling group (see the linked Reddit post above) seems to be a bit flip in the response to the user's concern. "...encourages creators to tag with the media they intend."

While I appreciate what they are attempting to do, this policy change feels like a solution in search of a problem, especially in larger fandoms with multiple continuities, versions, and media types that are all cross-pollinated in both canon and fanon. While I'm focusing on Transformers fandom, imagine a creator in the DC comic universe writing a story that incorporates bits and pieces from a dozen different reboots.

For example, let's say that I am writing a fic about Ratchet. I am using the setting of the original G1 episodes, but I also am using the characterization of him as a bit of an old man grump. That characterization originated in the Animated continuity, but I want to incorporate bits of pieces of his other characterizations as well (old friend of Optimus from TFP, Ratchet ran a faction-free clinic like he did in the War for Cybertron series, he's got a Decepticon boyfriend like in IDW1 - or maybe even Cyberverse, etc.)

With this new tagging structure, I might potentially have to tag the story with ALL of those continuities. So instead of just slapping down the "All Media Types" tag (and maybe one other fandom tag that matches the characters as best I can), I'll have to analyze my story and try to figure out how best to tag for the characters I used.

And what if you're doing a completely AU version of the story? For example, a humanformers story, or merformers? Using the All Media Types tag along with a Alternate Universe - Human or Alternate Universe - Mermaid tag worked perfectly, since you weren't writing the story to fit into one specific continuity. But now, that might not be an option.

What To Do??

The first thing I would suggest is to contact AO3 (using the Feedback and Support page) and let them know (nicely) that you think this is a horrible idea. Give them some examples on how you use the All Media Types tag to find stories to read, or to help you tag a story. People outside of the Transformers fandom don't always appreciate how absolutely tangled the continuities can be with each other, and providing examples might help them see why this would be a really messy change.

Readers: Be aware that when you are looking in the All Media Types tag, it will no longer show newer continuities. And if AO3 starts dismantling that tag like they suggested they are doing, be aware that some stories won't show up in that tag like they used to. You can also create and then bookmark a custom search page that includes all 40+ continuities. REALLY annoying, but it's a workaround.

Writers: Until they start dismantling the All Media Types tag, ALWAYS ALWAYS tag your stories using Transformers - All Media Types... Especially for newer continuities. This will be especially important if you are writing a Transformers: One story. Right now, anyone who is only browsing the All Media Types tag will not see a story tagged only with Transformers: One. Make sure you're aware of how tags work and how they can affect the visibility and findability of your story.

Epilogue

Ugh. That's a lot of words for a long-weekend Saturday. And maybe I'm overreacting a tiny bit. But my work involves information architecture, and this change just absolutely baffles me. It's almost as though they want to make it harder to find stories. Considering that AO3 won a Hugo partially because of its fantastic tagging system, this change seems like AO3 is doing its best to shoot itself in the foot.

When you have a square hole, a round hole, and a rectangular hole… Yeah, you DO want each peg to go in the "right" hole. But if all of the pegs fit in the square hole, who cares? You got the job done.

I love you @ao3org, but please reconsider this change... Especially for IPs that are as old and are as varied as Transformers.

[dollfacefantasy]

dig your claws right into me ♡

logan howlett x fem!reader

logan hurts you when he has a nightmare. now you both have to deal with the fallout.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, descriptions of nightmare, injury, and blood

a/n: reader is a mutant but i didn't specify her powers so you can imagine what you want. just some sickly sweet intimacy cause that's what i was feeling tonight <3

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The words come out whispered as Logan's lips press against the three tiny bumps of developing scar tissue on your abdomen.

"I already told you that you don't have to be sorry," you say. Your voice drifts into the space between the two of you as soft as the movements of your fingers running through his hair.

"Well I am, bub. You should want me to be."

Each one of his hands rests upon either side of your waist. His fingers squish against your flesh while his eyes stare at the scars on your belly. He gazes at them like the small marks, all equidistant from one another, could be willed away by his harsh look. He hated the fact that they were there at all. Even worse, that he was the one who gave them to you.

"But it was an accident," you respond, giving one of the tufts of his hair a gentle tug.

His dark pupils flit up to look at your face. "Doesn't matter. It being an accident doesn't change the fact that you're gonna have these marks forever. I wouldn't care that it was accidental if I'd killed you."

He remembers the night it happened that seemed like a real possibility.

His light sleep had been interrupted by a nightmare. Over the time that had passed between then and now, it'd become indistinct from all the others he experiences regularly. The only difference between that one and the ones he'd had since he'd started sleeping next to you each night was the intensity. That night had been rough. Normally when he slept in your room, he seemed to be able to tone it down. Almost as if his brain knew to not act up while your relationship was still starting to blossom.

But two weeks ago, his mind didn't care. It flash-banged him with the usual images of himself in that tank. The searing, splitting pain of the adamantium attaching itself to his bones.

Usually, if he had a nightmare beside you, he'd grunt and twitch, maybe shift around a little. That night though, you got to see the whole performance. The tossing and turning, sweating and moaning, tense limbs and scrunched up face.

Poor, sweet, innocent you thought that you could just wake him up. Your hands nudged at his bicep and shoulder as you gently cooed "Logan. It's just a dream."

In the end, your tenderness didn't matter. When he actually came to, your anguished cry was all that registered. And then he felt the sharp heat between his knuckles that meant the claws were out. His heart dropped and his vision nearly blacked out. He couldn't have.

He retracted them as quickly as they'd appeared and pulled back to look at you. Crimson flooded the gray t-shirt you'd worn to bed. The three little spots spread into large blooms of scarlet. Your hands flew to the spot to clutch at it, but they did nothing to stop the warm liquid from spilling out.

"No, no, no, fuck," he'd whispered frantically as his mind raced for a solution.

Your cries morphed into whimpers. Soft and vulnerable. Like a prey animal that'd been fatally wounded but not put out of its misery. Blood seeped out onto your bedding, and it was then that he rocketed off the mattress and scooped you up into his arms.

Fortunately, Scott, Jean, and Storm were already outside the door in the hall, having heard the scream. A gathering of students lingered behind them as well. Shame coursed through his veins, albeit dulled by the panic. He remembered thinking it was stupid, but after the adrenaline left his system, it was the dominant emotion he was left with. Ashamed was the only word that could describe holding the knowledge that everyone here now saw he was capable of hurting the woman he loves. Maybe he was no better than an animal.

In truth, shame was all he felt now. So much relief settled over him since you'd made it out alive. Thanks to the enhanced physical capabilities from your mutation and Jean's adequate medical skills, these scars would be the only lasting effect of the wounds.

He'd rushed you down to the infirmary faster than he'd ever moved in a non-combat situation. His feet thundered down the stairs, a part of him withering to ash with each little whimper you let out as the motion jostled your body around.

"I'm sorry, bub. Almost there. We're almost there. You're gonna be ok," he'd mumbled out thoughtlessly, saying anything he could that would bring you even a shred of comfort.

He kept your hand in his the entire time you were down there on the cold examination table. His grip stayed firm. He wouldn't let the anxiety over your well being consume him. This was his fault, and now you needed him. He didn't get to be worried or upset or anything that wasn't in support of you.

When you howled in pain, he winced as if he was the one being treated. You cried for him, choking out "Logan" through tears over and over. It tore him apart inside. All he could do to soothe you was stroke your cheek and murmur reassurances in your ear.

"Shh, shh, shh. You're doing so good, baby. My strong girl. Being so brave."

He usually reserved affection for private moments, but in those painful seconds, it felt like you two were the only ones in the room.

These thoughts running through his head display across his face. The way his cheek squishes against your tummy and his eyes vacantly stare at the wall opposite his bed. You told him the next day that everything transformed into a blur in your mind. You remembered the feeling of being stabbed and the sight of him panicking, but beyond that nothing specific stayed. You knew he held you and talked to you even though you couldn't recall an individual thing he said or did.

That was fine with him. He listened to you tell the story from your perspective. You spoke with your normal cadence, the usual happy glow in your eyes, and the same animated gestures coming from your hands. His eyes lingered on your torso though. The bandages peeking out from underneath your clean camisole he'd changed you into.

Every last detail of the incident was etched into the deepest part of his psyche. Most likely stored away as material for future nightmares. As much as he hated it, he figured that's the way it should be. He didn't deserve the peace that comes with forgetting.

For the first week after it'd happened, he wouldn't sleep with you. He'd stay with you, cuddled against your body, until you drifted off. Then he'd get up and skulk back to his own room, leaving you cold and alone on your bed.

Eventually after a few more days, you got him to try it out again, but he'd only do it in his own room. It was hard for him to be in yours. New sheets covered your foamy mattress now since the blood wouldn't wash out of the old set. Each brush of the novel material against his skin was just a rose-printed reminder of what he'd done to you.

He's snapped out of his recollection when your voice returns to the original conversation.

"None of that stuff happened though. You didn't kill me, and you're not going to. I'll be more careful next time," you break the silence with a gentle reassurance.

Next time. That's what hurts the worst. You knew this would happen again. You'd promised that when it did you wouldn't try to wake him. Wouldn't touch him or do anything that could set him off. Just give him his space and let him work through it.

"I don't even want you worrying about being careful when you're trying to sleep," he grumbles.

Your nails scrape over his scalp, making his eyes flutter. A deep sigh leaves him. As much as he hated himself for all of this, he could never help easing up under your touch.

"You're worth it."

Three words you said so often. He never believed them, but that didn't stop you from repeating them like a slogan. Instead of arguing with you over the validity of the statement, he stays silent. Replaces any verbal response with a physical one by nuzzling into the warmth of your stomach and laying kisses around your navel.

You watch the affectionate gesture and trail your fingers down to the nape of his neck, massaging the tender skin there.

"You are," you whisper, "One mistake doesn't define you. Doesn't change how I see you."

"It's not just a simple mistake-" he starts.

"Yes it is," you interject, trying to nip his self doubt in the bud.

"It's not. It's not like I forgot your birthday or left my wallet behind when taking you out."

"It's still an accident. The severity doesn't change the intention. Would you hate me if my powers acted up and hurt you?"

God, you could be just as stubborn as him. It grated on his already frayed nerves. He shifts to look up at you fully. And some of that building tension dissolves upon seeing the earnest look on your face.

"It's not the same. Anything you did to me, I would heal," he says.

"I'm healing too. I'm just not as fast as you," you respond. You actually smile as if this is some lighthearted matter. Of course you knew it wasn't the same. You presented no danger to him whereas if he'd nicked you an inch to the left, he might be talking to your headstone right now instead of you. That wasn't the point though.

He shakes his head. "It's different, bub. But I'm not even saying you should hate me..." 

In truth, he didn't know what he was saying. If he wanted you to hate him or stay away from him, he could be the one to break things off. But he was still right here, arms wrapped around you and head hovering inches away from your body.

"I just think you should be more cautious than you're being," he finishes, "I don't want you to think you have to put up with this."

You frown and pet his hair. "I don't think that."

"I'm not trying to lecture you, baby," he sighs, "I just don't want to hurt you again."

He could certainly flaunt a pair of puppy eyes when he wanted to. The way he was looking up at you now made him seem so sad and wounded. Like a dog who can't control when he bites but gets kicked aside for it all the same.

"You're not going to. We'll be careful. It was an accident," you say, tone almost pleading, "You're still my Logan."

To go along with your words, you pull on one of his arms, beckoning him closer. He complies with your request and scales your body so that the two of you are aligned. You stare up into his eyes and the whirlpools of emotion within them. Your hand lands on his cheek, your thumb stroking back and forth in small swipes.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away cause of this," you whisper, "It wasn't your fault. You don't choose to have those dreams."

You can tell he wants to argue, but he struggles to find the words. Indirectly cutting him off, you guide his head closer to yours. His face slots against the crook of your neck, and yours does the same in his. You nuzzle him there, breathing in the rich, musky scent of him.

"You're not wrong for wanting to be happy. You don't deserve to be alone," you say and kiss below his ear.

The words make him ache from within. His metal bones vibrate with the weight of possibility of that being true while his heartbeat feels as though it stutters between his ribs. He wants to huff and say that he knows, that he doesn't need you psychoanalyzing him, thank you very much. But none of that will come out. So instead he chuckles. He tries to make it sound smooth; although, the awkwardness is apparent in each bit.

He pulls back a little and smirks down at you. "So you think I'm cut out for being gentle? Is that it?"

You know what he's doing. As closed off as he tries to be, you don't need telepathy to sense what he's feeling. You let him play it off with a joke though. If he's joking, he's not drowning in self-pity, which is all you want.

"Mhm, I know you are," you say and nose at his cheek, kissing the spot on it without facial hair, "You may have claws, but you purr like a kitten when I have my hands on you."

His eyes roll when you say that. He leans down and begins to return some of your loving gestures.

"Don't go telling people that. It's only for you," he murmurs.

"Of course, of course," you say with the same subtle playfulness.

Words die out in favor of using your mouths for better things. The kisses are lazy, built more off of love and adoration rather than lust and passion. One of your arms loops over his shoulders to keep him close while your other rubs at his side. The tip of his nose brushes your earlobe as he lowers to kiss down your throat.

His lips meet your pulse point and the divots in your neck that make you shudder when touched. He's familiar with all your secret spots by now. He plays you better than any instrument. His breath fans over your skin as his teeth scrape against the same flesh. His hands work below, squeezing your waist, fingertips leaving little bumps in their wake.

The hand of yours that had been on his side drifts further down and wiggles its way between your two bodies. Your digits stroke his pelvis above the area his cock would soon begin to harden.

A groan reverberates through his chest as his shaft rises to attention. From this angle, the pads of your fingers can reach the tip. You rub on it with light pressure, up and down. That gets him to repeat the groan, only this time the undertone of need is more prominent.

His lips latch onto your neck to work a little mark onto your skin while he pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down his thighs. You were only wearing a cropped t-shirt and panties, already easily accessible.

He nudges your thighs apart further and grinds his bulge over your mound. The heat from both your aching centers grows hotter with the friction. Arching your back off the bed, you whimper softly for further satisfaction. He presses you back down using his larger stature.

"Patience, sweetheart. Being gentle, remember?"

He only teases you with a few more grinds of his hips before his boxers vanish too and his heavy cock rests against the soft fabric of your panties. You feel the familiar thickness at first. Then his fingers swoop down and pull your panties to the side so he can slot the drippy tip against your folds. Precum smears against your slick, velvety skin.

Seconds later he splits you open. He bites his lip while you whine, his fat cock pushing further into your wanting hole. You squeeze around him. Your walls clamp and contract on his length. It doesn't push him out, merely sucks him further in. He chokes out a low moan from how tight you get.

So tight and so wet. Arousal oozes from you in no short supply. It didn't take much to get you going for Logan. A few touches alone had you leaking like a broken faucet. You whimper as he bottoms out, hips jerking as the head taps your cervix. He always gets so deep it's nearly unbearable. Even when he's going slow like he is now, he's all you can think of. He fills you up down there and occupies all the space in your head.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks.

You nod, unable to respond verbally as you adjust to the intrusion. 

He doesn't give you a prolonged period of time to adapt right now. Normally he would, but most other times, he'd be going much faster than he plans to at this moment. Typically, he'd let you get comfy with the stretch before drawing his hips back and then pumping them forward again. He'd slam in and out of you. It'd be loud with the sound of skin clapping combined with your moans and his growls. It'd be rough and quick. The bed would shake and bobble around with the force of him.

But tonight, none of that happens. He barely even pulls out to thrust. He stays nice and deep, grinding his hips rather than fucking himself in and out of you. You whine in sweet stretches of sound. He sighs and grunts against your neck. Neither of you sound like feral animals going into heat.

You loved when you fucked like that, but right now, both of you needed this. Each roll of his hips felt like a stroke of heaven brushing your insides. Your limbs curl around him tighter to keep him close. Your arms guard his neck while your legs dig into his hips. He's so lost in the feeling of you, he can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

"Tell me how it feels. Need to hear you. Wanna know I'm doing it how you need," he mumbles.

"Feels perfect," you whimper in return, "So fuckin' deep."

"Good. I only ever wanna make you feel good."

You nod, knowing it's the truth. "Anyone can hurt me, but only you know how to make me feel like this."

His eyes scrunch up at your words. He just feels lucky he has his face buried against your skin so you can't see. It had been just what he needed to hear. Boosting himself onto his knees a bit more to gain some leverage, he grips your hips and ruts against you with the slightest bit more force.

You whine at the soothing rhythm in which your bodies rock. The sense of satisfaction brought on from this took root in the deepest pit of your belly. You weren't gonna explode like you often did. Probably wouldn't scream or scratch up his back. But you could tell you were gonna cum hard.

Without saying it, he communicates he feels the same. His lack of usual dirty talk tells you everything you need to know. His cock stays nestled deep inside your pussy as he works you both to the edge. His face remains flush against your neck.

You cum first, and he follows right behind. You tighten up, toes curling and a high mewl echoing out of your throat. Your body shivers. He spills his release inside of you, his energy leaving with the sticky ropes of cum that fire.

He goes boneless on top of you, still cherishing the feeling of your skin on his. His breaths feel cool against your sweating skin.

"My baby," he sighs. His eyes flutter shut. He knows he has to pull out before he knocks out for a while, but he can do that in a second. He just needs a few more minutes of this.

You press a few kisses to the side of his head and rub his back. His hand slides between both your abdomen to touch the scars, reminding himself what he's capable of despite his current tenderness.

After a few moments, he pulls out and slumps to the side of you. You peck his lips and take the acquisition of space as a way to cool off. His eyes are drooping already. It feels good seeing him so relaxed. You kiss the space between his brows, then the bridge of his knows, and end on his lips.

"Sweet dreams," you whisper, wishing that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay. At least for tonight.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤

Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)

O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?

Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.

O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.

Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.

O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.

Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.

Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.

Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.

(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.

[moonstruckme]

hey sooooo I have a fic request for u babe! What about reader with Remus and it's like the first time she's sleeping over and she unexpectedly gets her period and she's like sorry I ruined our night I can go home and Remus is just like what?? No stay and just him soothing her through the cramps

Thank you for your request ml!

cw: period pains, mention of blood, brief allusion to mdni activities (though they truly could just have been making out if you want)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 960 words

It’s rare, this early in your relationship, that you and Remus can sit down to watch a film and actually watch it. But it seems you’re both thoroughly spent from partaking in those other activities so frequently during the day, and now you’re both just winding down for the night, waiting to see who will admit to wanting to go to bed first. 

Remus is just as content with this, your arm pressed against his and your head heavy on his shoulder, feeling your ribs expand and contract with relaxed breaths. He could get used to having you here. It’s taking more restraint than he could have imagined to keep himself from just offering you his spare key and begging you to come and go as you please. 

“Oh, shit.” 

It’s a whisper, not particularly alarmed, but the way your muscles go stiff tells Remus it’s not nothing. You sit up, taking your weight off of him. 

“What is it?” he asks. 

You don’t answer him at first, squeezing your eyes shut. Your expression is one of unmistakable mortification. You look agonized. Remus tries to let you have the time you need to think, but a worm of unease eats further into his gut with every second of your silence. 

You push out an exhale that sounds laborious. When you open your eyes, there’s enough apology in them for a capital crime. Remus thinks that he’d probably forgive you if you told him you’d committed murder (and maybe that should scare him more than it does). 

“I think I’ve just stained your couch,” you admit. 

“Okay,” he says slowly. He doesn’t see the cause for such distress, but he also isn’t sure what you’re talking about. You’re not holding a drink, so how could you…oh. “Oh, is that all?” 

His nonplussed reaction doesn’t seem to affect your unease. “I’m so sorry,” you say, wincing. 

Remus tuts. “Don’t be, you can’t help it. Do you have anything with you, or do I need to nip to the store?” 

“I’ve got stuff.” You stand to get your bag, turning to grimace at where you’d been sitting on the couch. 

Remus’ reaction skews in the opposite direction. It’s only a splotch; by your response he’d been half convinced you were sitting in a veritable puddle of blood. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say again. “I’ll be right back.” 

“You’re alright, love,” Remus promises you. “Take whatever time you need.” 

While you’re in the bathroom, he addresses the stain. Truly, it’s no great hassle. With friends like his it’s hardly the first trial his couch has faced, and besides that Remus has an unusual amount of experience with getting blood out of things. 

It’s soaking when you come back, a small rag covering the spot from your view. You’ve changed into your pajamas, presumably because you’d stained your pants as well, but this is far from an unwelcome development. You look terribly cuddly. 

“You alright?” Remus asks as you come back to stand by the couch. 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat quietly. You seem suddenly timid, like a guest in his home. He wants to hug you. 

“Does it hurt?” he presses. 

Your mouth pulls to the side, which is answer enough. “A little. It’s been hurting for a while, I just didn’t recognize it for what it was. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting it this early.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He reaches for you, hiding his disappointment when you only put your hand in his. “That’s not a very nice surprise, is it?” 

“No,” you agree with a halfhearted smile. When Remus squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back, and you at least seem up to holding his gaze even if you still look sheepish. “I’m sorry to ruin our night. I can go home.” 

“What?” A bit of hurt bullies its way into Remus’ tone. Your expression changes like you’re surprised to hear it. “No, I think you should stay.” 

You look hesitant, so he tries again, gentler this time. 

“I mean, if you’re hurting and you want to be in your own home, I understand,” Remus says, “but I hope you’re not leaving on my account. I’d like for you to be here.” 

You watch his face as though looking for discrepancies. “Really?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he says earnestly. “Of course I’d love to keep you. Getting your period doesn’t change anything, except that now you’re in pain and I’d like even more for you to stay so I can be with you.” 

The muscles around your eyes relax, your expression softening into something so tender Remus feels his own heart turn to mush. 

He gives your hand a little tug, and you take the cue, sitting back down on the couch between his open legs. 

“Can I put my hand here?” he asks you, touching your stomach. 

“Sure,” you say, still somewhat timidly. You take his hand in yours, moving it down a couple inches until his fingers are skimming the soft fabric of your pajama bottoms. “But it’s more like here.” 

“Oh, okay. Can I put my hand there?” 

With your nod, Remus slips his hand beneath your waistband, to that plush stretch of skin between your belly button and your panty line. He presses down gently. 

“Oh.” Your body goes lax. 

Remus chuckles, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder. “That helps?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh contentedly. “A lot, actually. Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He pushes on a tense spot experimentally, rewarded when you sink further into his front. “Just don’t try to run out on me the next time something like this comes up, yeah?” 

You agree readily. “Mhm. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known this was going to happen.” 

Remus smudges another kiss onto your shoulder, smug. “Just remember this then, I suppose.”