#and the ones in between either have no idea what they're doing or they're just goofing off

[syoddeye]

oh ho ho! so simon calls and asks the bartender out...what are we thinking? does he go all out trying to prove he actually isn't a loser and can pull off a suave date? or does he purposefully plan the most off-putting date possible to get back at her for being a pain in the ass?

prev.

i love that you think he's going to call right away. nope.

simon sends some version of you up? after close, then stews for hours when you don't reply. he sits in the dark, phone in hand, grumbling to himself. the cigarette between his fingers burns low, barely making it to the ashtray before he lights another.

he lasts three days. three nights of drinking alone at home, refusing to go to the pub and show his face. the thought crosses his mind to go elsewhere, where it'd take him all of fifteen minutes to find a bit of skirt, but somehow, you've gone and sucked the thrill out of that.

his pride keeps him tethered in place, stubborn to a fault, but even that has its limits. on the third night, the ashtray beside him overflowing, he finally caves. he calls.

"so you can follow instructions. i was worried i'd have to draw you a picture."

he doesn't waste time. "sent ya an address. i can be there in ten." 

"yeah, i looked it up. looks like a classy joint. free wifi." 

"…you comin' or not?" 

"mm, got a policy. can't sleep anywhere lower than three stars." 

"s'not for sleepin'." 

"then let's do yours. got a bed frame?"

simon straightens, caught off guard. that's unexpected—that you're game. he expected more of a fuss, but if you're just in it for dick, things are back on track.

he glances at his bed. the rumpled dark blue sheets are half-pulled off the mattress, still on the floor where he's always kept it. it's never mattered before, but no one's ever been here, either. hotels keep it impersonal. neutral ground. they reinforce the rules. they do the cleaning.

"can't. i'll come over." 

"oof, i've got another policy." you chuckle. "can't have someone over until we've gone on an actual date. you know, to make sure they're normal. or close to it." 

you have no idea.

he imagines sitting across a table in some overpriced restaurant, squeezed into a tiny chair, with loud music pounding in his ears. wasting money on drinks and food. all that just to stare at the tits he knows you're going to hide underneath some layers while you make small talk. it makes his skin itch.

but. if your stupid little 'policies' don't exist solely to jerk him around, he'll earn passage into your world. your place. unknown territory, somewhere to plant a flag and humble you all at once.

forget his lack of a bed frame, he hasn't had a bird in her own bed in ages.

"fine. tomorrow."

"sunday," you counter, and he hears the grin in your voice. "i'm off monday. send me a better address, and i'll meet you there. no french food."

he scoffs. "that, we can agree on."

you laugh, teasing. "bring that with you—the sense of humor. you're gonna need it."

[aziraphales-library]

Back to bug you again! Randomly thought about "there was only one bed" and then immediately randomly thought "lol there was only one body" as in for some reason I was secretly starving for possession fics? Not a lost fic ask. Just a "got any for me?"

Read a great one, Tether by Gingercat a while back.

But it is a crime that "there was only one body" does not seem to be a tag.

Basically I mean I'm ISO fics with any unfortunate events that cause either Az or Crowley to have to possess the other's body. And most likely it devolves pretty quickly from there.

There is not a 'there was only one body' tag, but there IS a sharing a body tag. Here is a selection for you...

Possession by spunknbite (E)

“So my idea, and please don’t dismiss it offhand - ” Aziraphale settles back against the pillows, “I think you should possess me.” “That’s a terrible idea,” Crowley says flatly.

And I Would Hide My Face In You by amerande (E)

It had been six thousand years, more or less, since Aziraphale had last been without a corporation. He'd forgotten how different some things were. OR: The one where they share a body.

Bonded by Guanin (T)

Aziraphale had almost died, almost fucking died, and now he was sharing Crowley's body, his spirit surrounding Crowley, a loving, pulsing presence right in the very heart of him. He had never been this close to Aziraphale before, had never dreamed that it would be possible. He was sorely glad that he didn’t need to breathe, for he wouldn’t be able to manage it with Aziraphale’s presence making him feel drunk and mellow. It was a miracle that he could drive at all. Aziraphale had grafted himself onto Crowley’s soul, the border between them permeable and merging at the edges a little more with every second that passed by.

I've Got You Under My Skin by redundant_angel (E)

Crowley must possess Aziraphale in order to prove to Hell that he's worthy of keeping his demonic powers. Aziraphale agrees to help. ------ “Regulation demands that you must prove to us that you are worthy of your demonic status by possessing another being and having them bend to Satan’s will.” “Oh, is that all?" said Crowley.

Meanwhile… by TheTalkingPeanut (M)

My alternative take of these scenes/the near-ending of the 6th episode (and that one from the 5th). I got a 'what if' in my head after I heard these lines: "I just need to find a receptive body. It's harder than you think. I just need to find a body...pity I can't inhabit yours." To which MY mind added his response: "Why not? Who said you can't? I'm right here, Aziraphale. Take me."

A bit snug by fenrislorsrai (T)

“I do need a body. Pity I can’t inhabit yours. Angel, demon...probably explode…” --- And there was only one bed body. They can't be made to fight if they're both in the same body. It's the surest way to cancel each other out and make sure they won't have to face each other at Armageddon if they can't stop the end. They may not explode, but there's definitely other consequences. Not least of which is getting to know the parts of each other they hid from each other or were too afraid to admit to. What can they learn from each other's experiences? What ARE bodies? After all this time, they're finding their ideas of such were perhaps too limited by what they'd been told. What is Self and what part of it is defined by other's perception of you? and what if that Other is now with you? Can you still deny you are worthy of love when you must direct some of it back at yourself to love another who’s currently part of you. Which is all very serious but also they bicker a lot, flirt with someone in same body (awkward), have Opinions about how to take their tea, make a demonic pact, and confuse Gabriel with math.

And the one you mentioned...

Tether by Ginger_Cat (E)

Aziraphale, Supreme Archangel of the Heavenly Host, is just minding his own business. Really. It's not like he's trying to get summoned to Earth during highly important archangelic duties. And Crowley's not trying to summon him, he swears, but somehow it still keeps happening... Now, if they could only figure out why?

- Mod D

[panlight]

also continuing off the Informed Traits discussion, just how much of Caslisle's compassion/kindness is informed? Bella and Edward both make it seem like he's this saintly figure and pillar of goodness, but then there's moments where he does things that make you wonder if the view on him is just really rose-tinted.

Again, going back on BD where he invites his friends to witness and doesn't seem to care that they're hunting humans just outside forks/la push and let's them stay even after already knowing what their presence triggers the tribe to phase, the book also reveals that he took Jacob's blood sample to study without his consent?? Like a lab experiment???? (I learned this through a post showcasing that part in the book) Also in a podcast I listen to that discusses the plot of MS, he apparently fakes being Billy's distant relative (impersonating an indigenous person uhhmmm 😬) and, well,,,, lets just say I can see why some people think that entire phone call just gave colonizer vibes. AND!!! didn't he drug a woman to steal their car and kinda doesn't react much when they caused a massive car pileup??

On the one hand i dont mind if it's meant to show us that even Carlisle's sense of morality is flawed, but between Bella's "the Cullens are good to the core" and every time Edward talks about him in MS, it's feels more to me like another unreliable narrator trope.

This one is harder for me because, see, I want the compassion to be real because I think the concept of a vampire blessed/cursed with Super Compassion is legit fascinating! As I've said about 23470234 times, my favorite aspect of vampire stories is how they become a vampire, how you cope, the choices you make, what you accept and what you deny about your new reality. The idea that for this one guy, becoming a vampire made him even more compassionate is just the kind of twist on it that I've never seen anywhere else and I think it's really interesting, actually. A dud of a superpower, sure; the innate push-pull of vampire instincts vs super compassion compels me, though.

But obviously I can see where it comes from that it could be an unreliable narrator thing or outright lie. Or at least a show vs tell problem where we're told he's compassionate but actions suggests otherwise.

I think it falls apart in two major ways:

The protagonist-centered morality. Everything in the story is about facilitating the E/B romance. Carlisle's alleged compassion can only help that, he can't hinder it. They HAVE to move back to Forks so the story can happen, he can't say "huh maybe it's NOT compassionate to move back to a place where people know what we are and are terrified of us." He can't refuse to drug the soccer mom because they have to save Bella! He can't object to having witnesses gather in Forks and force more teenage boys to phase and put humans at risk of being eaten because we have to save Renesmee! He can compassionately offer Bree surrender, but neither he nor Esme can do any more than that to try and save her, because that would complicate Bella's upcoming wedding. The Bella-centricity of it all sits like a supermassive black hole in the middle of the story, disrupting the orbits and bending the light of the other characters.

Carlisle can't be any more compassionate than his author, and that limits him. We had a fandom discussion about this a few years ago, but basically because SM doesn't see the problems with how the Quileute characters are treated in the story, none of the characters can, either. I remember calling it the moral version of how Alice is supposed to be a fashionista, but because SM doesn't really know anything about high fashion, there's a lot of 'tell' about her being this fashion icon but the actual show of clothes in the story doesn't live up to it. Or Carlisle himself -- he's supposed to be this genius doctor who has studied medicine and science for centuries, but SM isn't a doctor or a scientist, so some of the stuff she makes him say doesn't live up to the idea she planted. SM totally missed the settler-colonial stuff, the dehumanizing language, etc etc, so none of the characters, not even Compassionate Carlisle or Power-of-Heart Esme can.

tl;dr I like to think the compassion is real but hindered by the narrative insisting on prioritizing the love story AND Carlisle being unable to be more compassionate than his author. But that's because I WANT it to be real because I think the concept is really interesting, even if the execution is lacking. I don't need or want him to be Perfect or a Saint, and I'm sure existing as a VAMPIRE of all things would naturally come into conflict with compassion all the time (examples in the book is him not wanting to kill James and it leading to the extended hunt instead; offering surrender to Bree but knowing if he goes against the Volturi they could kill the whole family; telling Sam in BD that this isn't his fight and 'don't get your family slaughtered for pride,' even as Sam insists they have to be there for Jacob and Jacob has to be there for Nessie [blargh].) and that struggle and how he deals with it when he's in a situation with no Compassionate choice is available would be great. Even that car chase in Midnight Sun could maybe work if the story gave Carlisle any room to protest until Alice insists it's the Only Way!!!! or whatever, and some follow up where like oh huh weird some random charity swooped in to pay all the medical bills of everyone involved in the pile-up and bought them all new cars. If Edward, Jasper, etc can't turn off their gifts, Carlisle shouldn't be able to either, even when being forced into uncompassionate actions. But SM doesn't care. She only cares about Carlisle, let alone his compassion, inasmuch as she needed a kindly father figure to set up the vegetarian vampire thing and for Bella to have a convenient doctor.

[rei-ismyname]

Uncanny X-Men #9 Review

Graymalkin was raided and now the Uncanny team try to get back to normal, or at least what they were doing before Becca and Jubilee got snatched. It looks like Graymalkin is NOT done with them, however.

Larry Trask - not learning his lesson

The issue cold opens with Larry Trask on the sales floor with a former client. The 'Wolfpack' model sentinels are built from stray and unwanted dogs somehow - they're fully robotic with full (if glitchy) AI so I'm not sure if anything biological is left. It doesn't really matter, I suppose. He gives the man a demonstration on a volunteer and they tear the guy to pieces. Switching them off didn't work, they can just switch themselves back on. This isn't going to end well, but 'your eminence' wants four dozen units ASAP.

The Uncanny adults are sitting around a fire, clearly back at Haven. Can't say that seems like a responsible choice for so many reasons, not least because two of them were kidnapped nearby very recently. Logan brings up that the kids have secrets and that he doesn't trust them. Ransom overhears this but not the next part - that 'they don't trust themselves.' They're traumatized children, what do you want from them?

Rogue comes up with a mentor system for reasons, assigning Jubilee to Deathdream and Logan to Ransom. I think they should ask the kids what they want. The Uncanny team have done a pretty terrible job at mentoring, teaching, duty of care, etc, so far and they don't seem to be reflecting on that. They're going entirely off Logan's sense of smell. This doesn't especially feel like the issue after an event in terms of how the characters behave. Calico and Jubilee were jailed, they witnessed horrors and came under psychic attack. They witnessed their leader fight a friend over some really strong feelings. The reader gets a peek at Graymalkin, but these X-Men look suicidally passive.

We check in with the Outliers with a voiceover from Rogue, and most of the points she's raising seem like they could be solved with a conversation. Keeping them safe strikes me as priority number one, but it doesn't come up. 'We got to be the school' Rogue decides, which makes sense considering the only other school is too dangerous.

Logan, no shit, tells Rogue she makes a fine leader. Does she? Comes across as an informed attribute to me, or maybe Logan is joking. He says that 'Chuck and Scott would be proud' which is particularly jarring. Not because of greater history but the previous issues in this run. Rogue lampshades it, but without any follow up it feels like the book is just telling me to think less. Jubilee and Deathdream make friends, which is nice? In the abstract it is but we haven't learnt much about where either is at or what they want.

Jitter comes across Calico secretly practicing ballet and offers to be the partner she's never had. It's a sweet moment between just the two of them and we learn more about their dynamic. It seems like they don't actually know each other that well but they're learning more. Calico continues to be the most interesting Outlier, if for no other reason than we've learnt the most about her. She had an abusive upbringing and is slowly figuring out an identity away from family.

Jitter we know less about, but I think we're being shown she's into girls. Maybe. It would be easier to get a handle on that if we knew more about her I think.

Meanwhile, Ransom is outta here, and it seems Logan is trying to offer mentorship. He comes around pretty quickly with Logan telling him he is wanted here. I'd guess he can believe their home is a prison now seeing as he was there with you. Ransom's cousin is Roberto Da Costa AKA Sunspot - New Mutant, hero, and billionaire. That is unexpected and I'm not sure what to do with it tbh. I feel like The Outliers would be safer with him but who knows what's going on there?

Not sure who originated this idea (I assume Rogue) but the kids are going on a shopping trip with Logan and Jubilee. The Graymalkin scientists deploying the Wolfpack show why that might be a bad idea. Did they forget that Calico and Jubilee got kidnapped while out and about? It feels like they did and as such it feels like we've done this already. Very recently. Maybe it'll turn out better.

The two adults decide NOT to watch them and they immediately get attacked by The Wolfpack. Only Calico is holding her own and Deathdream is a liability here, as his powers do nothing to robots.

Even Warden Ellis thinks this is a bad idea, and Trask doesn't have a good explanation. This dynamic might mean something to you if you're reading Sentinels, but the outline is enough here I guess. Ellis can't control her subordinates who are siccing killer robots on children. Not that different to kidnapping, beating and imprisoning them but I guess you have to draw the line somewhere. Looks like we're not done with Ellis at all.

All but Deathdream managed to escape at least and seem to be working together pretty well. Ransom headbutting a metal dog seems like it would hurt him a lot and do little damage, but he seems fine. They even rescue some civilians. The fill-in artist is particularly noticeable with the close-up of Jitter's face here, and as much as I enjoy the regular artist the action looks decent.

We're left on a cliffhanger of the other Outliers rushing to see if Deathdream is okay, and he looks very dead, alas. His powers are vaguely defined, but I don't think this death is going to stick. Either way it's traumatizing as hell for the kids, hopefully a black eye for Graymalkin, but most of all it paints the X-Men as seriously unfit caretakers of Children. I suspect Deathdream will be fine and Logan/Jubilee will be the cavalry next issue, but it's really not a good look. If it was the first time there'd be some leeway but it's not - they really should have learnt from the kidnappings 3 issues ago. Maybe Rogue shouldn't polish that 'fine leader' trophy just yet.

This issue was entertaining enough if I don't think about it too hard. The characters themselves aren't seriously engaging with their mistakes or recent happenings and it really hurts the book's identity. I don't know what Uncanny X-Men is trying to do or say and here at issue #9 I don't think it does either. The beats are there - some conflict, some resolution, some action - but the connective tissue between issues is not. I think this is the book if you want some X-Men hits remixed but nothing more. That's okay, but it's bound to disappoint long-term invested readers. I think it's a shame that unambitious, but there's other books for that.

If you weren't sold before this, issue #9 won't change your mind. If you were enjoying it that'll probably continue.

[polyamships]

[ID: a banner with a light blue background. On the left a heart outline with an infinity symbol intertwined in a darker blue. To the bottom right, dark blue text with a thin black outline that reads: Multiamory March 2025 in all caps. Under that it reads: March 1st - March 31st. /End ID]

This is the first post to help expand on the prompts for anyone who needs a little more to go on than just one word. We hope these ideas help inspire people, but they are only a jumping-off point and there will of course be plenty more interpretations we didn’t think of!

March 1st — First kiss(es)

This could be the first kiss of a dyad(s) in your ship/polycule or the first group kisses of an ot3+. Maybe it's passionate, maybe it's tender, or it could be a quick shy peck in the lips to test the waters, a caring kiss to the head, or even a casual greeting kiss on the cheek. It doesn't have to be between your ship either - it could be seeing a love interest kiss someone else and the feelings it stirs up, a surprise friendly kiss at something like a team victory, or the first familial kiss to a new member of the family, or even someone dramatically kissing a prized possession

March 2nd — Hurt/Comfort

What trouble might your characters get into? Do they take part in fights or other types of action that might harm them or is the hurt they have happen to them more of the everyday kind, like sickness or accidents? Do they take risks that come back to haunt them, are they unlucky, or does someone else's carelessness injure them? For comfort, how can others help them feel better? This could be tending wounds or taking care medically if they have the know how, or if that's their only choice in the situation, or it could be physical comforts like hugs, looking after them while recovering, sympathy, an kind ear to listen and commiserate. What if their partner(s) aren't able to comfort them and comfort comes from another person they know, or if their partner(s) are responsible for the hurt, how would that make them feel?

March 3rd — First date as polycule

Where do they go? How do they all agree, does anyone have to compromise or is less than keen on the choice? Are there any difficulties with things people can't do or places they can't go due to their history or agreements they have with partners? Is everyone able to come along and if the network of connections extends far out, how do they decide who would count as in the immediate polycule to invite? How long does it take to find a time and place everyone agrees to? Does everyone have a good time and is there any drama or relationship developments that come from the date?

--

Our first Alt Prompt is...

Alt Prompt #1: Always room for one more

This could be a meetcute with a new person befriending characters by sitting at their table. Or it could be a character reassuring a metamour or a friend that they can join in socialising without fear they're intruding on the ship/polycule. It could have a practical focus, about making room for another when things are a bit tight with lots of people, or an emotional focus about how it feels to be included. For a spicy take, it can be about inviting someone to their bed

ID: A light blue poster that reads "Multiamory March 2025. March 1st - March 31st" on top. To the left, there's a heart with an infinity symbol intertwined, and another one to the right of the text. Below it, the text reads "Alt Prompt #1 always room for one more". Below is a picture of three people sitting on a table, two of them have laptops and they're all smiling. There's an extra chair for someone else, though that spot is not taken.

--

The rest of the prompts can be found in the full prompts post here

[st4rstudent]

i feel somewhat responsible for this, even if i’m not the one saying these things. I’m genuinely so sorry.

No need to apologize! It's not one singular person doing it and truth be told I don't think it's a large majority that thinks that (albeit the ones that do are quite vocal). I didn't mean to upset anyone or anything when complaining about it, I was just letting off some steam.

Having a yap session under the cut sorry I feel like rambling under your ask anon.

Admittedly, I do think there are reasonings for people thinking this way. A lot of the focus with Clash has been on the cogs, especially after the 1.3 update. Which I can't say I blame them! Managers were something new and exciting and (from what I can tell) really separated them from the other servers. I don't blame them for wanting to put focus on that because that was their thing. Alongside other things, but majorly when you hear Clash the managers are mentioned in someway shape or form. But as we all know, toons ended up taking the short stick from this. This isn't helped by the gameplay itself, being mainly a fetch-quest deal so you often only talk to npcs once or twice unless if they're repeated ones and the taskline wasn't entirely accessible on the wiki for a while (shoutout to the wiki maintainers. The taskline script is a savior). Which I'm quite excited to see if they deal with this issue with the rewrite. I imagine they will, but anyways. Social media posts would often contain more managers than toons, which I also believe they're starting to fix. And ontop of this, I believe most of the team in the early era of the sever is gone, so there's been some stuff lost in the change. So yeah, dialogue/writing has been kind of rocky. AGAIN- I am completely aware of the rewrite going on and I am not judging them harshly based off of their current state. I'm very appreciative of the fact that they took the time to listen and are focusing on trying to fix it up. And then there's also fandom mischaracterization- especially of the cogs. Forgive me for mentioning mischaracterization because normally I wouldn't really care (I've mischaracterized characters before..especially in my younger years. I think it's just a process of learning an having fun and I hate to limit anyone because of it). With that being said, there's a lot of baby-fying and coddling of the managers. Especially with those who have more 'sympathetic' stories (Misty, Chip, Winston specifically). Don't get me wrong, I like these characters and I can appreciate the story they're trying to tell, but I feel like so many people will hear their dialogue and then misplace their anger. People get mad at Bessie for trying to protect HER lighthouse or at the Elders for trying to keep YOTT safe (lets not forget Winston was there to brainwash toons). Yes, yes technically there would've been better ways to do it but consider this: The toons are scared. Their homes, stores, lives are being taken over by a big corporation that has more resources that they do. They don't have the privilege of waiting, seeing, and gathering. And then people forget that the company has such a huge role in both toons and cogs lives. If you're mad over the mistreatment of Misty or the fact that Winston is still in the dungeon, your anger should be directed at the company who doesn't care. I may be completely wrong in saying this, but I feel like the stories with almost all of the managers is a reflection of the company. The toons are only trying to protect themself and their environments and yet this seems to go forgotten when people start bashing them. And of course, I'd consider myself a toon guy so me saying all this and complaining may come off as "I HATE the cogs and everyone who posts only about them!" and for clarification that's not true. You all know how much I like that little brain thing. The cogs are interesting, their designs are fun, I don't blame people for liking them because I do too. I just wish that the thought process behind so many of these discussions wasn't so cog focused because I believe that this anger at the toons for, RIGHTFULLY, defending themselves helps push this mischaracterization of them as a whole. That they're mean, boring, unlikeable while the opposite is true. Yes there are some, what I'd consider, "filler" dialogue from the shopkeepers. This is just because of the gameplay. But there are some funny and cute moments with them if people would just listen and read.

Which also brings me into another point: people skip the dialogue. I've caught myself doing this before (on my first account. I have 4 accounts total, so I reread the dialogue on like 3 of them). But people will complain about lack of toon personalities while doing this. It's like reading through a comic book, only looking at the drawings, and then complaining because there "isn't a storyline". Luckily, there's been efforts to keep track of the dialogue on the wiki but I doubt a lot of people are going through and reading the entire script. It just feels very disingenuous to criticize the dialogue when you haven't even read it. Likewise, people don't seem to read the blogposts either. This is both from a dialogue aspect and from an update aspect (people continuously asking about hammerspace/mix-and-match under unrelated posts).

[justanintrovertedweirdo]

Spoilers for the new digital circus episode

THE NEW EPISODE WAS SO GOOD OH MY GOD AAAAAAAA!!!!!!! They totally teased us with that Jax angst, but it was still amazing! They better bring back Gumigoo in a future adventure. Man did not deserve what happened to him. He had his entire reality crushed and just when things were going well for him again, he got deleted. And of course it was Pomni who had to get close to him. My poor girl just can't catch a break. ALSO, THEY HAD A FUNERAL FOR KAUFO. THEY HAVE FUNERALS. I AM NOT OKAY. THE ENDING WAS SO FUCKING SWEET MY GOD!!!! POMNI HAS FRIENDS NOW AAUGDKDVAJSG!!! All it took was for her to get trapped in a digital hell hole. Good for her! Also there's a Kinger plush. I must have it. I need to cuddle him.

[discoreptile]

As of yet unnamed game card art!

[fortunemars]

i actually have many thoughts on this!!

so for one, i think its really obvious that michi did something messed up to Laurence in the werewolf wedding arc (mcd season 2- episodes 17-21 approx). The way she talks to him before she kidnapped them and when she SOLD HIM OUT because he didn't want to 'play' with her is just. gross.

Things michi said to/about laurence in this arc: (under the page break cause there will be a lot of text)

Episode 17:

(to aphmau) "Is that human male over there your lover, by any chance?" (she makes sly eyes at Laurence) "I see... there is osmething between you two... It would be a shame if another woman who was cuter than you came and snatched him away from you now, wouldn't it?"

(to laurence): "Anything for a cutie like you! say... do you think I'm cuter than Aphmau?" "Come on, admit it! cat-girls are much cuter than regular girls!" (Laurence responds: im sorry, but at the moment im not interested in anyone but Aphmau.) Michi responds: "don't you want to make her jealous with me...?" (before walking towards him, pinning him against a bookshelf with her arms) (Laurence responds: H-HEY! G-GET OFF ME!)

(The three then pass out, Michi gives both Aphmau and Katelyn to the werewolf tribe, keeping Laurence to herself)

Episode 19:

(to the werewolf king): "This male Meif'wa here, this is her lover. I have no need for him since he didn't want to have fun with me at al Hmph!" (Laurence responds: "there's not exactly much of you to have fun with") "HOW DARE YOU!- i mean... hehe... I brought him here because it would be such a shame if he was allowed to roam around. what if he gets ideas to be with your son's fiancé behind his back?" (then, in response to the king telling her to take payment and leave): "with pleasure! see you later lover boy~"

---

So i mean generally the stuff she says to/about him is gross, but also considering the fact that she had him ALONE for at least an entire day, he was brought to the werewolves with different ragged clothes, and his comment about 'there's not much to have fun with' implying she at the very least *tried* to do something to him? generally it's gross and i hate it, but it also make his interactions in this arc feel kinda different.

Because 1 he is immediately forced into a shitty situation because of michi's meddling (being threatened to be executed) 2 he doesn't have any background information of aphmau and fenrir's relationship (all he's told is that they would be married), he just knows that aphmau doesn't know this werewolf and has been sold to the tribe the way he was.

idk just,, thinking about how Laurence only just escaped being held captive by Michi (where she does gods know what!!), having his control and consent toyed with, and then having his control taken by a different group of people (being put in a jail with no information except that he would die after watching aphmau get married)?

of course he'd be extra scared for aphmau on her wedding day!! he's sitting there, chained up and afraid, watching aphmau as she's about to be tied to a man she doesn't know, it would absolutely make sense that he'd freak tf out!! He's just experienced the dread and disgust of being forced into something against his will, he doesn't want aphmau to experience that either, especially if he wasn't able to help.

Laurence frequently struggles with feeling useless, or feeling like he has no control (especially over himself, his shadow knight form, or the safety of his friends). Really the interactions with michi would only make these feelings worse. it really isn't much of a stretch to say this experience would fuck him over for the rest of the show

I'm not sure i got my point across well, i have so many thoughts but they're mostly just a jumble of feelings in my head xD I will absolutely explain further if needed

I think there’s a decent case to be made that MCD Laurance was a victim of some form of sexual assault by Michi and that informs a lot of his actions in season two, but I don’t know if I’m reaching or not.

[loumauve]

-

[eimearkuopio]

Also if you're wondering why I had to be Irish: bitch, I'm a native species! You're the invasive one! This is my home! I'm just visiting yours for a lifetime, and I'm being kind enough not to redecorate your room at my place. The Tuatha Dé Danann were already acknowledged as being sui generis. Maybe stop turning your grandfather's place into such a fucking bloodbath if you don't want Him to pitch an absolute fit when He wakes up!

[absentlyabbie]

seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

[webism]

pornstar!shiu who started out as your agent. he’d book your gigs, stand and watch with cigarette in hand as you were fucked on film for a fat check that he’d take a cut of.

pornstar!shiu who would take you out for celebratory drinks after landing larger acts—be it a shoot for a dirty magazine or a collaboration with the current biggest name in adult film. shiu is good at getting you in—and he doesn’t much mind watching your artwork either.

pornstar!shiu who helps you set up a secondary source of income: an onlyfans. he helps you garner an audience, set your prices and start looking for guest stars. he lines a few up, lets you pick from them and even pours them a drink when they come over to film. shiu lets you have privacy with these shoots, but insists on staying in the house just in case anything goes sideways: they never do, though. most of the guys you film with are put off by the look shiu gives them when they first walk in. mean.

pornstar!shiu who slowly starts to get sick of accommodating the men you film with. it's just work, sure, but he doesn't get jealous like this of the girls that his other client Toji works with. he doesn't watch their videos back on repeat to make sure their hands don't wander where they aren't welcome. he doesn't fuck his fist at night thinking about him. it's just a you thing.

pornstar!shiu who gets an email one day from a well known pornstars agent practically begging to hitch up a collab between you and him. satoru gojo is a name shiu has heard plenty times before, be it through the business side of being your agent or through his computer speaker when he's edging himself to mindless porn in the dead of night. he knows he fucks good, seen it first hand.

pornstar!shiu who knows you're excited for this shoot, to finally get to try out the guy known for giving real orgasms in hopes of a more raw shoot. shiu almost feels bad when he tells you, twenty minutes before your shoot, that gojo can't make it. that he's sick with something nasty and you'll have to reschedule if his calendar opens up for you.

pornstar!shiu who listens to you whine about how you promised your online audience something good tonight. nods as you beg for him to find someone else on such short notice. he pretends to scroll through his phone and send a few texts as you stress your pretty mind over leaving your followers hanging. shiu can't help but smile at your desperate pout when he tells you that no one can make it on such short notice... but that he does have another idea, albeit an unconventional one.

pornstar!shiu who, within twenty minutes, has your face pressed into your pillows and his hand forcing your arch so he can fuck you just that little bit deeper. the moans you let out, even though they're muffled by your satin pillow, are nothing short of pornographic. it's fitting, and pulls a smile onto shiu's face because he's hearing better moans from you than he thinks gojo could ever pull. and god you feel better than he'd ever imagined: he wonders how he'll ever lay down for another person again know that he's felt you wrapped around his cock.

pornstar!shiu who insists it's just a favour: just work. he's given you five orgasms and a dirty movie to show for it too. you two fuck for an hour and he showers at your place before helping you edit and post it over dinner. it's casual, nothing awkward, but when the comments start rolling in about this new man that makes you cum like none other has, you swear he blushes.

pornstar!shiu who quickly becomes a regular on your page. goes from being your agent to somewhat of a partner in film. over the course of a few weeks, you have more money than you know what to do with: people keep subscribing to watch you cum on his cock in the mindless way it seems only he can pull from you. your library grows daily, with videos of him fucking you on the kitchen counter, whipped cream eaten straight from your chest, to videos from his perspective as he takes drags of a cigarette while you get your fix from your lips wrapped around his thick cock. he's somewhat of a pornstar himself now.

pornstar!shiu who, for someone who insisted this was just work, gets into the habit of kissing you through your orgasms. or conveniently forgetting to press record so that your marathon sex session on his couch stays for his eyes only. or starts leaving things at your house on the off chance to have someone else over to film with, so they'll see his hair gel or large shoes by the front door and realise you're spoken for, even if he doesn't have the right to speak for you.

pornstar!shiu who's asleep in your bed one night, his cock still nestled deep inside of you after making love to you for the first time. you're littered with lovebites and your mind is hazy with feelings you never thought you'd have for your agent of all people. the night is dark, and as you're cockwarming the man who is much more than just a co-star to you, your phone dings. he stirs, and you check it to find a message from Satoru Gojo, who is asking after you. he says he's upset you didn't get to film together the other week but he hopes you're feeling better. your sickness seemed pretty nasty, from what your agent said when he cancelled on your behalf.

what a shame!

[foone]

Bad idea: Age gap discourse but in a fantasy land where there's multiple races who have vastly different lifespans and life styles.

Is it wrong for a 27 year old human to date a 140 year old stone elf, considering most stone elves don't get out of diapers till their 30s?

Is it wrong for a 80 year old dwarf to date a two year old fire wisp, when fire wisps only live up to 5 years (between the eruptions) and have memories of their past lives, so in a way they're "born" at age 400,000+? That octogenarian dwarf is way younger than the fire wisp that's only physically younger than some of the socks the dwarf has!

Is it wrong for a chronomancer who was never born to date, well, anyone? They are zero years old and infinity years old and negative one hundred and seventeen years old all at once. They look like an old human, sure, with the long white beard and the wrinkly skin, but as far as anyone can tell, they've always looked like that. We've seen the cave paintings.

Is it wrong for a 30 year old lizardman (that's old in lizardman years) to date a human who is 60 years old in biological years (because of aging spells), 26 years old in lived-experience years, but only 13 years old in calendar years? (ie, they were born 13 years ago, but spent some of that time in sideways timelines, so they've lived more years than have passed in their home timeline?)

Is it wrong for a 12,000 year old dragon date a pile of 400 kobolds when kobolds only live like 10 years on average, but reach full maturity in one year? And if you disagree, can you do anything about it? You do know what happened to the last policeman who tried to arrest a dragon, right? Their city is still smoldering, 50 years later.

Is it wrong for anyone to date the time worm? It's the same age, every year. So the age gap can only intensify. If you start dating the time worm when you're both the same age, when do you break it off because you've become too much older than them?

And most confusing of all... What about the fairies? They could be anything between a thousand and a day old, they would lie about their age either way, and they can look like whatever they want. There's fairies we know for a fact have been around since the founding of The City of Towers, who met the silent mother herself, and also look like they're at most ten years old. Is it wrong to date them, or just really uncomfortable for everyone who sees it? And on the other side there's fairies who are "born" (hatched? They come from plants, I'm not sure what the verb even would be. Seeded? Sprouted, maybe) this week who are already appearing like middle-aged men and dancing with widows in what looks like a scheme to run off with her fortune but they never take the money, because what would a fairy want with worthless metal discs? Maybe fairies have a hive mind or genetic memory or reincarnation with full memories, they'd never tell you or give you a straight (or consistent) answer anyway.

Stonefolk are really the only inter-race dating situation anyone can agree on. They're unthinking & unmoving solid rock during the day, so those hours don't count. Thus their "real age" is a nice even half of their true age. So if you meet a stonefolk who was dug out 30 years ago, watch out: that's a 15 year old, and if you're a 25 year human, that's too young for you, even though their dig-date is five years before your birth-date.

EDIT: 2024/01/12: Changed the name of the Stonefolk

[graphic--horde]

How do you make your stamps? :0

Disclaimer: this is an obscenely long explanation, with pictures. Efficiency is stupid

So, for the static ones, I make a 99x56 px file on ibis paint x. Other programs are probably available online but I don't use them.

After that, I either upload an image I want to make into a stamp, or I draw one.

Then, I find a frame I want to use. Ill upload them here but let it be known I stole all of these right from deviantart

Most of them are from Lil-Devil-Melii on deviantart. The rest i have no idea. They're not all 99x56px but you can crop the canvas it's fine

Make sure to erase the edges of the picture , so they're transparent. It's not as cute otherwise

Upload those frames over your image in whatever art program you're using and viola, stamp.

For moving ones, it's a lot harder. Mostly because I refuse to download Photoshop.

There are a couple ways to do this. Some are simple animations, like with flashing text and whatnot. For these, you download the individual animation frames from your art program. Make sure it's transparent.

Then, upload each frame to ezgif.com under the option "GIF maker." You can play around with how fast each frame goes and whatnot but in the end, it'll be a stamp with some rad text that moves. This is easy, and doesn't make me want to shit my pants and cry. If you're new, do this. This is fun. This is good. This does not kill me inside

I made that↓ stamp with this method :)

this next one is how we turn gifs into stamps. This one makes me sad. It involves math and sucks. But we gotta do it. For the vibe

First, grab your gif. I'm using this cow gif because it's awesome

Then, I resize it using ezgif. Literally everything for this will be using ezgif. I am a simple man

At this point you should decide what frame to use. I'm using this one because its the first one I clicked

Figured out what size the inside of the frame is. That's what I resize the gif to, so the edges can be transparent. The inside of this one is 93x50 px, so those are the dimensions I'm making the gif.

Figure it out by putting the frame into ibis paint and realizing the canvas to fit just the inside of the frame, then seeing what the dimensions are. But there could be easier ways

Woah it's so small now

Then, still on ezgif, I go to the "crop" option.

Make sureeee to upload the smaller gif

press the button that says "extend canvas size", and then put the "width" and "height" as the dimensions for your FRAME. This'll put a bit of a transparent border around the gif. For this frame, I did 99px and 56px.

The "left" and "top" boxes show how many pixels the cropping happens from the edges of the canvas. The formula for finding that is

(width of gif / 2) - (difference between gif width and frame width / 2) = left box

For me it's (93 / 2) - (6 / 2) = 43.5

Then you do the same.for the height, which for me ends up being 22 from the top

This is reallyyy touchy and annoying though

Here's my result , with no visible difference

Okay so THEN you go to the "overlay" option, under "effects." And upload your frame. If the cropping was done right, you shouldn't have to move the frame at all and can just download it

Here's my result:

if you don't care about transparency, you can resize your gif to be the same size as the frame, and then put the frame over it. But I'm a slut for transparency

Anyways. I'm sorry if anything was unclear, it's two am. And I hope this was helpful :) these really are fun to make once you get it down

also if anyone has an easier way to make stamps from gifs, please god tell me

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.

warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv���sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.

Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.

Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.

Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.

And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.

It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.

Until—

"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."

That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.

It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.

"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.

It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.

"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."

The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.

"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."

"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"

He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.

"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."

"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."

You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.

"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"

He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.

"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"

You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.

The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.

Something more physical.

"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"

"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."

You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.

"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."

His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.

"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."

It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.

Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.

"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."

Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.

"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"

"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."

"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."

"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.

"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."

He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.

"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."

There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—

"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.

A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.

"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"

He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.

"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"

The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"

"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."

You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.

"A disconnect?"

"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"

"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.

"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.

You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.

"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.

You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.

"What?"

He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.

"Don't ask questions. Just come here."

It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.

It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.

Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.

You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.

"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."

You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—

"I'm not—"

You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—

"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."

You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—

"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."

You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—

Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.

"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."

Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—

"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"

Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do— but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—

"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."

You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.

You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.

You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.

You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.

He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—

"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"

You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.

"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."

He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.

"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."

You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.

"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."

"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."

You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.

"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."

He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.

"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."

He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—

"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"

It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—

"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“

"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."

There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.

It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."

You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.

And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.

He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.

"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"

You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.

"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."