#and we understand just enough to look for answers but not to understand them when we get them

[thatfrailsoul]

– And I don't want your pity, I just want somebody near me

Divinatory jukebox : "Nobody", by Mitski

tarot pick a pile reading → one, two, three

It really does feel like gambling. The people, the connections, the bonds between us. The search for the right moments, right ways, right rhythms… that takes all the attention, all the feelings, leaving the bits of relationships that we manage to create to be just a mirage. A fever dream we go through with so many complications, anxiety, doubts and fears. Rushing us to the ending, to those cold goodbyes full of tears. And the only thing remaining is to wonder. Did we really experience it? Was it really possible for something like this to happen to begin with? And will this fate chase us down again, forcing us to relive it?

Connections are never easy to begin with. There are too many details and requirements, too much of that complex and at times frustrating humanity in them. Too many to make it work as easily… But we don't help ourselves either. Our mind, our judgement, our anger and frustration that are so easily thrown right back at us, at our own actions and decisions. The answers and explanations that we don't want to hear. The feelings that we don't want to feel because of the fear that it will make it all too real…

This reading is that one message that you are not reading, pretending that you never received it. That truth, that motive or the explanation, that you don't want to make yours. Something that you need to accept, to keep in mind, to learn or do… Something that this world is trying to tell you, with your whole castle of walls around you, hoping that you will allow it to come through. Hoping that you will take a moment to stay in silence and breathe. Listening to your inner voice, that will guide you to that one pile that hides your message in it.

{ Follow me for more readings, reblog or let me know in the comments which pile you chose - I'm really curious.♡ }

P.s. A little question for you ♡

– Pile One,

the clouds: the queen of cups and the knight of wands

picture from → pinterest

Your way of feeling, of loving… of showing it, never was the problem. It never depended on how much you changed for someone, or how much you embraced your own true self. It never was important that you did it for them, how you did it, even if they claimed that it was everything. It never really made any difference, not when all that you did and tried was something that they expected from someone else... Yes, every single one of them.

Every person, every relationship, every connection that faded right before your eyes... They said they wanted it all from you, not realising that they needed it from themselves. Because we do project, we do confuse the things, we do misunderstand the reason behind what we feel. And we almost never admit it, never think that it is only something ours. We cry at what we don't receive from others, what we don't find, what we don't feel. But in reality is at us that we are screaming, not understanding how is it possible that someone that is supposed to genuinely and unconditionally love us, can’t simply make us feel safe and enough within, to the point that we need to seek it in others, begging for it…

But, ironically enough, this story is not about you. You were only the witness of it, again and again, so many times in all these years. You were the person that was used as a mirror, condemned to listen to so many tones in their voices, to see so many contrasting emotions on their faces, thinking that they were looking at you, but not realising that they weren't really seeing you, that they weren't talking to you.

And amidst all of it, you hid yourself. You closed up. Seeking that moment of silence and apparent calm, that space to reflect and think. You tried to understand, to really listen to all those words that are still right here in your mind, hurting you every time you thought you forgot them. You looked for that truth, for that explanation on what you really did wrong, how it could've happen so many times, in so many different situations, with so many different people across the time. But you never found it. So, in doubt, you just chose to never really come back. To not expose your apparently dangerous self to all those innocent souls. To not express your feelings, not through actions nor words, just to not burden them all. Those poor ones that might be forced to endure your wrong type of love.

But it is ridiculous. You don't have so much power over others. No one has such power, except when it is used on our own selves. You can’t be possibly the reason of every disgrace or conflict. And you know it. You are just not able to remind it to yourself, being under all the garbage of their own internal problems that they throw at you without any shame.

It is indeed a too much of a coincidence that it happened so many times with so many different people. But you are not the one that connects them. Or to be exact, not in a way that you convinced yourself you do.

Your love, your ways, just who you are, are not the ones to cause so much distress and pain, you are not the one to broke them down, to destroy their walls and stab them. You are just someone who has a gentle and tender enough way to make them all feel safe. Safe to get closer. Safe to trust. Safe to open up more and more, without realising that all that they were ignoring and bottling down up until now, will simply explode, reversing all their anger on those that are with them, on those that care and want to help them.

You are just that kind, that understanding and patient. Enough to assure others that you won't allow anyone to hurt them so much. That you won’t allow even your own hands to scratch them, always ready to correct yourself and change just to protect their heart. But you can’t always do it. You can’t heal the wounds that they themselves are opening up. You can’t find a cure for an illness that they themselves aren't aware of where it is coming from. You can’t understand it yourself, and then make them understand that you are not the one that they are resenting so much. Not when you both are so resilient in not accepting it.

It is a heavy fate, the one of making others feel so accepted and safe that they don't hold anything back, not even things that have nothing to do with you and what you can make work… But it is not a reason to hide yourself. To keep you in the shadows, never again crossing other paths. It is not your fault that you love strongly and sincerely enough to make others want to escape their traumas, their pains and fears, just for a chance to feel and see this world the same way you did. And it is not your responsibility, the fact that they don't know how to control it, how to sort all of it, once it crashes down upon them.

The only thing you do is love. In all the ways and forms. All you do is being caring, understanding, open… So why would you change it when they see it as something else, as too much or not enough, just because it is different from the love they got used to? Let them go, let them pass by, if they can’t feel satisfied, if they want more as soon as you are willing to give them what others never wanted. But don't do so convinced of the fact that there won’t be someone that will see in you enough. Someone that would feel the same and express it in the same way. Someone that will find you, as soon as you make a step out of the punishment of loneliness that you put yourself in.

P.s. I opened a newsletter! Now you can find my readings and guidance right in your inbox. And, if you enjoy my work, it is a great opportunity to create a connection and community that is not limited to tumblr, but can be able to survive any ups and downs of platforms and times. So, if you would like to subscribe, you can do so completely for free right here.↓

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– Pile Two,

the birds: the king of cups and the two of cups

picture from → pinterest

You crave them, those feelings. The understanding, the acceptance, the complicity, the intimacy… And yet you force yourself to stop before, every single time you catch a glimpse of it, of the possibility to have it.

Can it be called self sabotage? Self defence? Trauma? Perhaps. But at its core is only the uncertainty of what it will lead to. The wander about whether you will truly find someone that understands you, if they will be really so aligned with you like it seems to? If their thoughts will follow the same flow of energy… Or if their mask of appearance will come down, revealing a wolf in the sheep’s skin, ready to devour you and your every feeling.

It just seems to you like a promise of a heartbreak, long before even connecting. All the time spent together, the little moments that were created, every shy way to get to know each other better… only for them to become someone you need to escape from. It doesn't seem worth it, it doesn't seem safe. It feels just like another losing game destined to leave you feeling played.

But… what else can be a stronger protective or revealing spell than our own words? What else can really shows us who we are and who is standing in front of us? What can be powerful and intimate enough to guide us right to others people core, to their soul, overcoming every obstacle they put in front just to protect themselves from others? And how else someone could ever find us, recognise us, without never listening to the voice of our heart, without seeing what our mind hides?

It is a risk, it is a long and intimidating chess game. But it is not at all worthless, not when it gives you a chance to know your opponent. Perhaps discovering that they are not playing to make you lose in your battle, but only to have a chance to be beside you, to get close to you, through a dance of lunges and parries, until one of you loses all the armour and weapons, remaining vulnerable in front of the other… and seeing in their gaze only admiration and the desire to hold your hand to help you get up stronger.

You are protecting yourself, hiding, making silent and fast steps in the shadows, hoping that no one will notice you, no one will reach out for you and pull you right under the painfully strong and inquisitive light. But while containing your breath, feeling that you only want to come back to your own safe bubble... you also, sometimes, slow down and stutter. When you see someone so bright that it is impossible to not cling to them with your eyes. Someone with a voice so sweet, a laughter so genuinely joyful and free, that you keep hearing them inside your mind for days to come, unable to forget what it sounded like. Someone so caring, so gentle and delicate in their ways, that you can't help but observe them from your hiding spot, admiring them like an angel that somehow survived amidst these mean and angry souls. You still do it, even if you tell yourself that it doesn't matter, that it doesn't mean anything because you will never again come out and get closer to them. You still do it, even if later you tell yourself that it was probably all false, a well played role in this life’s theatre. You still admire them, the people. Their ways, their character, their interests. You still feel that desire to come closer, to see their eyes and the whole universes inside them.

So why don't you just do it? Why don't you let yourself free from this cage that you put yourself in, convinced that it would protect you? Why don't you just connect, not for the future, not for a chance, not for the outcome… but only for that single moment? Because connection is not only about the bonds we create, the relationships that we later have. It is not only about if one thing was true or a lie, a promise or a betrayal to our heart. It is also that one moment, that one second, in which you feel that admiration, that excitement, that desire for more. It is that complicity, those smiles, those bright and joyful eyes. It is that interest, or attraction, or even playfulness caused by all the outcomes that those moments can create and make possible now, make them real.

You are not only protecting yourself from the worst, the most dangerous, the most painful moments… but from those that can make you feel safe and whole too. Those that could teach you, inspire you, guide you. Those that could bring those emotions and colours to a life that is now becoming a little too silent, too heavy in the emptiness they are forcing on your heart.

Make that step forward, allow others to see you, to hear you. Allow them to get to know you as you connect with them. Not just for those relationships that you could create and that already overwhelm your mind with all the things you should fear and worry about… But for you two. Those versions of you and them in this exact moment, so innocent and genuine. That don't have any fault. That didn't yet do anything bad, if not feeling called by another soul.

P.s. I opened a newsletter! Now you can find my readings and guidance right in your inbox. And, if you enjoy my work, it is a great opportunity to create a connection and community that is not limited to tumblr, but can be able to survive any ups and downs of platforms and times. So, if you would like to subscribe, you can do so completely for free right here.↓

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– Pile Three,

the birds: the eight of coins and the seven of wands

picture from → pinterest

You welcomed them in. Every single one of them. So many souls that you courageously connected with. So many minds that you genuinely understood. So many hearts that you devotedly took care of… No matter what it took, no matter how difficult at times it was. How often you felt torn apart, consumed, by their lives and stories, remaining with so little patience, strength and courage to take care of yourself, of your days and journeys…

There wasn't anything that was too hard, too much to do for them. There wasn't anyone that didn't deserve more attention, more patience, even as you were bleeding because of them. It felt as normal and necessary as breathing, to take care of them, to defend them… even from your own self, when their voices raised in accusation of your love being too suffocating, your desire to help and care, too much.

One after another they changed their mind, their appreciation, their gratefulness for what you did for them, for your way to be and care… And from being cherished and known as someone who is just so caring and loving, one day, you became someone who no one wanted anymore, not so close to them.

They knew better, they were doing everything right, and your suggestions or worries weren't anymore so needed, they became advices no one asked and apprehension no one wanted to be the focus of. They all became mature, independent, and strong enough to face this world on their own. Forgetting thanks to whom they were able to grow and learn so much, who was there by their side every time they'd fall, even if it was difficult for your own self to stand tall as you were holding them.

And while you couldn't force yourself to be angry at their confidence and growth, you also couldn't ignore the fact that it wasn't only this, there was annoyance and resentment too… for the aspects and ways of you that they used to love, choose and look up at you for. And for a heart that is genuine as yours, who can’t and doesn't want to see the bad in those that you love… it is simply confusing. A change so sudden in their behaviour and preference for you and who you are supposed to be. And so many of their voices, of whom used to beg for you to be more closer, that now ask you with anger and frustration why you are here, so ever present?

You can't understand it unless you are in their mind. And they won't tell you what happened either… Because for them the only one to change was you, now that all that they asked for became too much and not anymore needed for them. So you took a step back. Became more silent, more reserved. Not because you wanted to, because you were shy or afraid of being more… But simply because it seemed what all of them wanted. A connection that is only superficial, without any bits of true bond in it, more distanced, more cold. And, just to be sure, you did the same with others too, those that still didn't had a chance to get to see more of you, receive your attention and love, and now will never do. Because you can’t know if they will truly appreciate you or if, apparently, they'll only use you.

But is it really the right thing to do, the right solution? The one to condemn and treat someone coldly, because of another person that actually deserved it? Is it right to ignore those that want to be closer, just because someone else once didn't stay longer? To don't help those that feel so lost and confused, even when every inch of your soul wants to hold them tightly and show them how to go through it?

You are compassionate, you are gentle, you are caring. You want and need to be this way genuinely, without any expectation for others. You are that kind of person that is healing this world, taking care of it, helping us grow with your love and knowledge and experience. And yet you are forcing yourself to become like others, colder, distanced, not interested in what someone feels or goes through. You are trying to change your character, the way you are, the things that you are devoted to and your morals… And because of what? Some people that got up so easily thanks to your support to think that they made it on their own. So naively, like a child who is rushing to show you how well they go on that bike, not seeing that hand that safely holds them.

They might not realise it now. They might continue to think like this for a really long time. But sooner or later they will look back and see all that you did for them, silently thanking you, hoping once again for your forgiveness. But in the meantime, you didn't do it only to have that back, didn't you? You were this way with them because this is who you are, not for them to appreciate it. So why stop being you because of those few? Why putting on pause who you are, not allowing yourself to be this way with anyone else, until those specific people realise their mistakes?

Be you. Be true. Be open and honest. Unlimited in the way you love and care, in the way you truly engage with others. Don't change yourself. Don't try to be someone else who you are not, don't present yourself to new souls this way, because you are much more. And there are so many people who will appreciate your ways and understand their worth.

P.s. I opened a newsletter! Now you can find my readings and guidance right in your inbox. And, if you enjoy my work, it is a great opportunity to create a connection and community that is not limited to tumblr, but can be able to survive any ups and downs of platforms and times. So, if you would like to subscribe, you can do so completely for free right here.↓

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_

[honourablejester]

Honestly, this (the crafting, modifying and inventing rules) is one of the most exciting parts of BitD so far for me. The rituals were what first sparked for me, because the idea that I can just invent spooky magic rituals for my character is delightful, but the gadgets and alchemicals are also delightful. Both Whisper and Leech were the playbooks that first called to me, and this kind of thing is very much part of why.

Vague gadget ideas I’ve been dabbling with:

The obvious, goggles that let you see into the ghost field. No self-respecting Leech is going to leave that the preserve of Whispers and their spooky masks! There is nothing magic has wrought that science cannot equal! Potential details: will highlight ghosts in red if they’re feral?

On a similar theme of goggles, goggles that give you something like Dishonored’s Dark Vision power, the ability to see the presence of living people through walls (it works by sensing Plasm, obviously), basically giving you a sort of life-focused x-ray vision.

A palm-mounted device like a shock buzzer that acts as something of an inversion of the Lurk’s ‘Ghostly Veil’ ability: it temporarily forcefully shunts someone else into the ghost field, rendering them insubstantial, for those moments when you need someone to let go of you right now or you desperately need to not be fighting them. Might have unfortunate effects on the victim, which will undoubtedly invoke long-term consequences.

Higher level, but if we’re thinking weapons and we’re already in the realm of lightning, gaslamp fantasy, demon-slash-lifeforce powered weaponry … I mean, is it too much to ask for a death ray? Some sort of hideous little thing that forcefully rends someone’s ghost from their still-living body, or drains them of Plasm (and stores it as power, because then we could have a self-powering hand-held murder machine). How does that interact with the spirit bells of the crematorium? (This one’s obviously going to be a long clock and several interim stages to develop).

… I promise I’m not looking at the Leech playbook purely to play a monstrous Victorian-esque mad scientist? Honest, yer honour. But. Well. A life of crime probably would be necessary to fund and advance my research? And in my defence, the first thing the book itself suggests trying to invent is a flamethrower, so I don’t think a death ray is all that out of left field?

I do think fiction is the answer here, alongside building on things suggested or built from other abilities/items in Blades itself. What Dishonored power to you want to replicate? What crackpot silver age of comics device do you want to cobble together and power by demon blood in your semi-flooded underground lair (that you must perforce share with the rest of your crew, do try not to blow us all up or summon some sort of horrific demon on top of us, darling)? Do you want to rip off Stephen Strange and make an arcane amulet that allows you to rewind time a few seconds? How would you feel about a death ray?

This is a steampunk fantasy setting where electricity exists and is literally powered by demon blood, where ghosts can be captured in bottles and sold on the black market, and the light from the shattered sun has been replaced by fish bioengineered with life energy until they glow bright enough to grow plants. Go nuts. Play with life, death, lightning, magic, machinery, biology! Frankenstein your way to a hideous future funded and inspired by your life of crime!

(Or, you know. Be a little bit more practical and focus on simpler things like glass cutters and breaching charges and sonic grenades that can confuse and delay the deathseeker crows. Or a contact vapor that instantly erases the last, say, 30 seconds or so of someone’s memory. Or a watered-down version of Drift Oil that instead of making you float for an hour simply makes you lighter and more agile, as if you were operating in moon gravity. It takes all kinds, you know).

But yes, I do understand the difficulty. When I was homebrewing a class for Heart: The City Beneath, a similar fiction-focused ttrpg, I found myself trying to nail down the concrete limits of various abilities as if they were for a more mechanical system, before realising that Heart does not work like that. You can just say ‘if you succeed your roll, this ability turns you invisible until you’re out of the current situation’. It’s a genuine shift of mindset. You have to pull back out of stats and bonuses and durations and ranges, and just go ‘this lets you do [cool thing], tell me what that looks like in this situation’.

Have to say, one of the biggest hurdles in introducing one of my usual gaming groups to a system like Blades in the Dark is the idea that items don't have defined stats and are instead props to twist the fiction in interesting ways. It often feels like I'm using therapy speak on a very literally minded engineer.

Player: Alright, I've spent some downtime crafting, what can I make? Me: What would you like to make : ) ? Player: Like, is there a list? Me: Nope : ) , you're limited by your imagination and what we agree would be best for the story. Player: Well are there suggested guidelines for what an appropriate item would be? What Bonuses It can give me? Me: Items don't really give bonuses : ) , now how about you tell me what emotions finishing this project stirs in your character? Player: What was even the point of this? Also stop saying ": )" I don't know how you're doing that with your mouth.

Honestly it's a fascinating study in what assumptions ttrpgs make about the people playing them: Namely that a prospective BitD player has some personal skill or desire to act as a storyteller, and doesn't put much emphasis on the nitty-gritty of the rules.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Even without an answer (perhaps the search will be enough)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 2.2k

genre: angsty hurt/comfort

warnings: non-sexual nudity, they're in the shower the whole time, injury / chronic pain talk, hmm trauma lasts forever and you have to live with it ig

a/n: I hope this makes sense I hope it's gooood I hope y'all like it <33

The ache that sets further in as you stand in the steam of your shower, you think, should be more familiar by now. The pain that surges through your back and your shoulder should feel a bit more like home. 

But as you stand with your head bowed under the spray of the shower, hot water cascading over you and tingling your skin as it throbs, you find that you've never felt quite so far removed from yourself. 

It's only the sound of the bathroom door opening, the quiet click of the lock and the shuffle of clothes on the other side of the fogged-up glass that makes you blink. But it doesn't make you move, and you stand, upright and trembling, as Damian slips into the shower behind you, hissing at the temperature of the water but stepping closer nonetheless to press a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

"He shouldn't have said that to you," he murmurs softly, and as he traces his knuckles up your spine, you squeeze your eyes shut.

"He didn't mean anything by it."

"He's a detective," Damian continues, and there's a razor-sharp edge to his voice that feels so familiar. "He should've known."

"He's your father… I hope you didn't fight with him because of me," you say dully, and your voice is strained in a way that makes Damian put his hand on your shoulders and try to turn you around to face him. When you resist, though, keeping your head bowed, he sighs and squeezes your shoulders ever so gently. 

"I'll close my eyes if you don't want me to see you cry." And he offers it up so easily, holds it out to you like it's a simple allowance that you deserve. It's enough to make your head snap up, and when you turn to face Damian in his arms, your eyes are red-rimmed and sensitive from your tears.

"You've seen me cry before, Dames," you say softly, smoothing your fingers over his soaked, dripping hair.

"That doesn't mean I have the right to see it every time," he responds patiently. "And I'd rather you cry whenever you need to than have the privilege of seeing it every time you do." You hum in understanding at that, looking down at your palms as you press them against Damian's chest, ignoring the ache in your shoulder as you watch streams of water splash down his skin and onto yours. 

"Bruce is… incredibly aware of the toll that this work can take on your life and your body," he continues quietly. "He's made mistakes and learned from them so that we don't have to. For the others who learned to fight under him, it's…"

"It's ok, Dames," you say softly, the rush of water in your shared space nearly drowning out your voice. "I know the difference between me and the rest of you. Bruce reminded me of that."

"He shouldn't have."

"He just said the truth." 

You'd known that in the moment, as well - of course you had. When you'd ventured back into the Cave after a long night of patrol, rolling your shoulders and fighting against the onslaught of an old injury, you'd known that his words came from a place of help - of healing.

"You need to be careful with that," he'd said, and his voice, through the cowl, had made your hair stand on end in a way that only the Batman could. "It's your rotator cuff, isn't it? Easy to wreck if you don't pay attention to taking care of yourself."

"It's… fine," you'd replied hollowly, frozen and shifting on your feet in the face of being caught. 

"There's no use pretending you're not in pain when you are - you'll just make it worse," he'd sighed. "Anyway, there's nothing you can do to fix it now, not when the damage is already done. And it's not your fault that you weren't taught properly. But you need to learn how to take care of yourself out there. You're no use to anyone in Gotham if you wear your body into the ground. You need -"

"That's enough, Father." Damian's voice had been clipped as he strode between the two of you, his eyes narrowed at Bruce. You're sure he had more to say than that - sure that you'd caused some kind of conflict between the two of them, but you'd been too concerned with slipping out of the Cave and away from it all to really care. And Damian, with worry-clouded eyes, had let you go - let you run away once more. 

"Where'd you go, beloved," Damian's voice brings you back, his forefinger tapping gently against your nose as you blink the memory away. 

"Hm?"

"Your mind went somewhere else," he says softly, understandingly in a way that makes you bristle. "I'd prefer if you take me with you, wherever you're wandering off to."

"Bruce was wrong," you say stubbornly, looking up at Damian as he smoothes a hand up and down your spine.

"I know he was. I told him -"

"It is my fault."

"Oh…" he frowns. "No… it's not, my love."

"It is," you continue, plowing over whatever reassurances were about to be offered. You're not sure you could handle it if they really were. "It's my body, it's my problem, it's - I should've…" But you're not sure, really, what you could've done - a child puppeteered by something bigger than you, a soldier fighting a war that should not have been your own. 

"Does that make it better?" Damian asks kindly. "If it's your own doing? Does it make it easier to think that it was self-inflicted?" Your mouth snaps shut at his words, your eyes wide as you stare up at him with an exposed sort of understanding.

Damian takes your hand in his, smoothing your palm over a scar on his abdomen. You remember the incident in which he'd gotten it, of course - it had been some slip-up while he was training, all those years ago with the League of Assassins. His mother had called it a lesson, had declared that the scar should be a reminder of what he'd done wrong. 

"Our scars may be different shapes, beloved," he continues, his voice too kind for someone who's bled so much. "But they come from the same war. It is not your crime that you were controlled as you were. It is not your burden that you were used in such a way."

Your shoulder throbs as Damian speaks and you find yourself crumpling, just a bit, leaning into him and pressing your forehead against his chest as you begin to weep again. He stands, through it all - just as he always has, and you feel a pang of guilt at having shoved him back in the way that you did. 

"Damian, I-"

"It's ok," he soothes, quieting your wavering voice. "I'm right here." And as you sob into his chest, one of his hands coming up to the back of your head to press you more firmly against him while his other hand rubs up and down your back, Bruce's words echo in your head over and over and over.

The damage has already been done. The pain has already been inflicted. The scars have already been carved.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it," you choke out, heaving in a shuddering breath against Damian's chest.

"With what?"

"With all the things that are wrong with me now," you say as you breathe deeply, closing your eyes and forcing calmer exhales past your lips. 

"There is nothing wrong with you, my love," he says, and he offers it up so willingly, voice hushed and earnest like a prayer. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"My body is broken," your voice wavers as you speak, fresh tears building in your eyes. "My -  it doesn't work the way it should, or… or the way it used to. And it's not my fault, I didn't  - I didn't want this and - it's not my fault, I swear -"

"I know it's not," Damian interrupts your rambling, shushing you gently and pulling you closer with an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, his skin warm against yours. You bring your hands up to dig the heels of your palms into your closed eyes as you lean into him, matching your breaths to the steady rhythm of his own as the heat of the shower continues to dull the pain in your back and shoulder ever so slightly. 

"I don't know what we're supposed to do now," you admit slowly. "I don't know… How are we supposed to just live with this? How are we supposed to go the rest of forever trying to, I don't know…" You sort of trail off at the end, but you've found that, at this point, there are few words that really need to be spoken between the two of you. You let your fingers trace over the scar on Damian's abdomen and he hums in understanding. 

How are you supposed to live like this? As relics of a war that never should've happened - as altars to something that you'd never wished to pray to?

"I don't… know," he says haltingly, and you feel a bit guilty for asking him such an impossible question. But as you begin to shrink back from it, Damian cups your jaw in one of his hands, his palm warm and calloused against your cheek, and when he dips down to press a kiss firmly to your lips, you find that it's all a bit easier to deal with.

"I don't know, my love, what we're supposed to do with this. But we'll do it together, won't we? Whatever it is, we'll find a way together?"

"You don't have to ask that, love," you reply with another kiss, quick and gentle and promising. "Of course, it'll be together. It always is, isn't it?"

Always," he assures. "Although, I am sorry."

"For what, Dames?" you ask, a frown tugging at your lips as you reach to wipe a trail of water off his brow before it makes its way into his eyes. You can't imagine, in moments like these, when he holds you and shushes you and curls around you in such a way, what he could possibly be sorry for. 

"For not having an answer," he says simply, like he should know what's written in the stars, like he should be able to pluck the impossible from the heavens and lower it down to the earth for you. 

"You don't have to have all the answers," you assure, but a frown pulls at his lips all the same.

"I hate that you're in pain. I hate that… Beloved, you don't deserve it." You hum at that, pressing your lips together as more tears prick at the back of your eyes. You hate it, too, he knows, the dull pain that lives in you inescapably. It wears on you, too, he sees, the way that some days every movement is an ache.

"It's not your job to have all the answers," you say soothingly, and he shoots you a look, like he's pleading with you, asking you to stop comforting him so that he can comfort you. One day, you think, he'll realize that it goes both ways.

"I wish I had just this one."

"Yea," you laugh, and something flutters in his chest at the sound. "I'm sure you do. But this is all I ever need from you, you know. I'm not…" you trail off, shifting your stance as you look away. Damian lets you - always, lets you hide in plain sight in whichever ways you need to. 

"I don't know how we're supposed to live, most of the time," you continue, the uncertainty of it all rocking your stance just a bit, and Damian's arm tightens around your waist as if he knows. And, really, you're sure he does, somehow. "But I - I have always only ever wanted it to be you that I figure it out with. Even if… even if we never really get there."

"We will," he assures, and when you shoot him a long-suffering look, he brings your hand away from the scar on his abdomen and up to his face instead, pressing kisses along your knuckles. "There's nothing else we haven't been able to figure out, my love. This, I'm sure… even if it takes our whole lives, we'll figure this out, too.

"But if we don't -"

"We will -"

"But if we don't -" you continue, "I'm… I'm happy, at least, just to be right here with you. Even with all the damage that's been done. Even…" But you don't have to say it aloud, don't have to speak any of it into existence. Damian knows, and the proof is in the tender way in which he holds you, smoothing a hand over your hair and anchoring you against him with that hand on your waist. He knows. Even without an answer, perhaps the search will be enough.

[chireikiden]

There's a few things that I think are left ambiguous in the sense of having both a more straightforward and a more intricate/interconnected reading. I kinda lean towards (and simply prefer) the latter on most counts, but feel like it's good to acknowledge the questions too.

Did Suika knowingly screw over Mizuchi (either via her whole offer being a scam, or by relenting and leading the lynch mob to her once it was decided she would die) or did she really not mean for this to happen and just caught up to her for a final talk before the lynch mob did? The latter would also make her motive for helping Mizuchi escape Former Hell more interesting. May still come up in CDS, as I suspect Suika's still going to make an appearance, even if it doesn't get an unambiguous answer. If the Shuten-douji stories are anything to go by, as far as I can remember, Suika actually has a lot of history picking interesting humans to recruit as youkai.

Did the lynch mob kill her for some more basic reason (e.g. revenge on her as a shrine maiden or the Miyadeguchi, her not fitting in well enough, her being inconvenient for them somehow) or because they'd picked this arbitrary point to start enforcing the new "no jinyou"/"no attacking humans" rules? I lean towards the latter because it just makes her rant about the system fit together better, and feel that it's even kinda necessary for the bit about "this land soon becoming a domain of youkai" to make much sense. Plus her title "Casualty of the Great Barrier". Otherwise she's just a casualty of some random youkai who happens to dislike the barrier. While she's still a hypocrite, it's more understandable to be unduingly salty about it if the order of events was: 1.) The youkai strongarm her into becoming a youkai because they are attacking her, a human 2.) The youkai kill her because becoming a youkai or attacking humans is banned However, it's also fair to say that can make the youkai's behavior seem a little weirdly flipfloppy (even if they weren't acting as a coordinated group). Unlikely to be explained further, in my opinion.

Was the scapegoating of the Miyadeguchi just something else that happened later on, or about the betrayal that Mizuchi herself committed? The latter is way funnier/more dramatic/more hypocritical on her part, and thus the superior option. Though the Hakurei punishing the rest of her clan is still something to be mad about. Unlikely to be explained further.

It is fair and funny to note that Mizuchi was absolutely a weirdo in life too, "getting used to" attacking humans concerningly quickly. (I look forward to artists interpreting that as anything between some Kogasa tomfoolery and her taking the first excuse to become a serial killer.) On the other hand, it also makes sense for her to die extra mad about the youkai betraying her because she thought she was on their side now, and apparently even had some pro-youkai attitudes in general. Can't be betrayed by your enemies. Her thoughts on youkai may well be elaborated further.

If this isn't stating the obvious, I'm getting the vibe that she may be trying the classic gambit of "forcing" Reimu to exterminate her properly to teach her a lesson (and/or to commit suicide by shrine maiden). Heck, even her final line in the chapter can kinda be read as a coy way to say "I'm coming over there now, for you to deal the final blow that ends your so-called extermination."

Dunno the details. Presumably the new system of Gensokyo they were helping put into place, which it now seems included purging the entirety of the priestly class besides the Hakurei, which we didn't previously have a clear idea existed. And though I try to make a distinction and not cite it as an "equally canon" source, ZUN's lore bits in Gensou Narratograph reinforce the idea that human society in Gensokyo was thoroughly reshaped only when the barrier was put up, including being herded into the Human Village and having their old hierarchies destroyed. The Hakurei might have helped coordinate this if they could play good cop with the humans.

This (with or without the Narratograph inclusion) does paint an interesting image of the Hakurei as an organized, scheming clan with some agency in what happened, though we can't take Mimi's understanding of the events at face value. It also makes me wonder when and how they were reduced from a proper faction to just one shrine maiden in existence at a time. Maybe they were just purged or allowed to die off, too, once they'd outlived their usefulness.

[fics4damelaningirls]

you called the wrong parent

ft. duke thomas and batmom

There was one thing that the goons in Gotham didn’t fully understand. If you attempt to kidnap a Wayne kid, don’t call their mom. She doesn’t like to bullshit with people, especially when it’s about her kids. She’s not gonna let a goon ask for ransom, she’ll personally find them and deliver an ass whooping. Apparently these goons that kidnapped Duke didn’t receive that message.

“I really suggest not to call my mama. She ain’t as sweet as the publishers make her out to be. Well she is, but not when there’s something bad happening to us” he tried warning the goons as the phone rang on speaker.

“Who the hell is playing on my phone?” you answer.

“We have your son” the bald goon spoke

“Which one? I got five” you asked irritated.

“What’s your name kid?” the tattooed goon asked Duke.

“Hi mama” Duke says loud enough for you to hear. Your response was a groan, and they heard some shuffling on your end.

“Hey baby, I’m on my way” you say hanging up the phone, not giving the goons any room to ask for ransom.

For the next thirty minutes the goons tried to talk about what they were going to do when you walk through the doors. If you could even find them, which made Duke chime in.

“You guys are screwed” he laughs.

“We aren’t scared of a woman kid” the bald one scoffs. The door to the warehouse opens loudly, and there you are in your sweats and a hoodie holding one of Jason’s guns pointing it at the goons.

“Let my son go” you said politely walking up to them knowing that Duke has most likely been free of his restraints by now.

“Did you bring the money?” the tattooed one asked.

“You idiots didn’t even ask for money. But since you aren’t moving to free my son. I hope y’all move fast enough to call an ambulance.” You deadpan.

“For who lady? You?” they asked laughing, but that laughter turned into screams after two gunshots rang through the warehouse.

“Yourselves” you say shrugging putting the gun in your tote bag. You turn to Duke “I know you broke free a while ago. Let’s go home” you say sticking your hand out. He grabs it pulling you in for a hug.

“Love you mama” he says squeezing you, “Also I warned them about calling you” he says laughing.

“Love you too baby” you said laughing at what he told you. The drive home he talked to you about his day up until his kidnapping, when you made it back to the manor everyone was standing in the foyer.

“Where were you?” Bruce asked walking up to you.

“Saving Duke” you reply smiling.

“I told them not to call her” Duke says making the others laugh. You pulled out the gun handing it back to Jason while everyone was laughing. That stopped everyone from laughing to look at you confused.

“They’re alive, just both have a bad knee now” you shrug heading upstairs, “I’m going to finish my nap” you said looking over your shoulder.

[roc-haze]

Tis The Damn Season | ArthurTV

In which Arthur is your best friend.

————

Get on the plane. Fly. See your friends. See your ex. Forget why you broke up. Get back on the plane. Fly. Reopen the wound. Repeat.

Moving away to pursue your dreams felt like breaking free. Unbridled opportunity, a new city, separation from the family and friends who don’t quite get you. Ending a relationship around the same time as the move was weirdly liberating and ultimately inevitable. James, your partner, was happy to stay put and had no real desire to move on from the small town in which you grew up.

One of your good friends, Arthur, had experienced the highs and lows of leaving it all behind.

“Let me know when you’re home, and I’ll come over to debrief. The small town fatigue hits hard.” He grinned, embracing you in a huge hug at Heathrow Airport.

Two weeks later, here you were. The flight had gotten in around 8pm, jumping in a taxi and immediately heading straight for your flat. By 9pm, you found yourself laying on top of the duvet, candles lit across the room and a vinyl playing quietly in the background.

The sound of a key turning in the lock echoed throughout the flat, followed by rustling and a quiet “hi mate”. A few moments later, Arthur entered through the doorway and crossed the room to side beside you.

“I had a feeling I might find you like this.” Arthur put down the tote bag he was carrying, laying down next to you.

“What gave it away?” Your voice monotone, lacking any real emotion.

“The photos of James on your story. You looked a little too happy.” Arthur lay staring at the ceiling, not wanting to say too much.

“I think he has a way of pulling me back in,” you let out a sigh, eyes fixated on a mark on the ceiling. “It’s just nice to have someone know you so well… like I forget what it’s like to not have this urge to fill the silence or to make myself exciting to someone else.”

Silence fell over the room, Arthur allowing you the space to vent.

“It’s just fucked, Arthur. God forbid I have a desire to move away and better my life. I mean, look at me. I have a great, fulfilling career. Incredible friends. Am I not worth changing for? He’s acting as if I’m babe for the weekend.” Your voice trembled, eyes watering.

“Do you want an actual answer to that? Or would you prefer to vent?” Arthur asked cautiously.

“Both.” You finally shifted to look at Arthur.

“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always made space for him in your dreams. You’ve had a goal, a plan on how to get there and so far, you’ve done everything you’ve set your mind to. Some people are just content with what’s in front of them… James is one of them.” Arthur smiled softly.

“I just don’t understand. I don’t see him for months, we see each other again and it sounds like he’s reconsidered and is ready to move. Only for him to turn me down all over again.” Your hands made their way to your face, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not worth it or you’re not enough to move for. It’s just an indicator that he’s not your forever person. The right person will be sure about you… they won’t have to reconsider. They’ll know.” God, Arthur was annoying when he was right.

“You’re probably right.” You sat up against the frame of the bed. “Please tell me you brought wine with you.”

Arthur followed suit, standing up to retrieve his bag. “Of course I did! I have some picky bits too.” He pulled two bottles of wine out of his bag, before holding up an array of snacks.

“You are a man after my own heart, Mr TV.” You gave him a small grin, rising to your feet.

“Shall we go commiserate on the couch? There’s a new episode of 90 Day Fiancé out.” Arthur handed you the wine, throwing an arm over your shoulder and directing you through to the living area. “Just out of curiosity.. do you think you’ll be dating anytime soon? George asked me to put in a good word.”

You laughed, jabbing the man lightly. “For George, I’m free any day of the week.”

——

Author’s note:

Won’t lie friends - this is based on my life at the minute oops. I am in my sad girl Taylor Swift era at the moment 🥲

Working on a Will fic! Please send through any requests 🫶

Deliberately did not pick a small town as I am not British hehe pls imagine for yourself xx

[dramas-vs-novels]

Love in the Air Special Novel Excerpt: Prapai vs Drunk Sky

** Context: After Payu stumbled home drunk one night and Rain got to see his boyfriend being cute and whiny, he became obsessed with seeing what those around him looked like drunk. So Rain conspired with their other friends in their major to get Sky to drink. However, Sky proved to just be a sleepy drunk, so Rain called Prapai to come pick him up.

After Rain made the call, it wasn’t long before Prapai walked into the pub behind the university.

But when the playful person saw his beloved boyfriend hunched over beside Rain, his sharp eyes that always sparkled in a good mood became noticeably darker. 

A large hand slipped to tighten around Sky’s shoulder, as he asked in a deep voice, “Why did he drink so much?”

Fip!

Of course, the whole table was pointing at Rain all at once. 

"Hey, are you guys selling me out like this?"

"Well, you said if we can get Sky drunk, tomorrow you'll buy us pork ribs."

When meeting the dark eyes of a dark skinned and handsome man, everyone sold their younger nong out in unison as Rain glared at them, then hurriedly returned with a flattering smile to his friend’s boyfriend.

"Just drinking alcohol, P’Pai, you don't mind, don't you?" Rain tried to make a pleading face.

Prapai looked at him for a moment before his dark expression returned to his usual good-natured smile.

"I didn't say anything. Anyway Rain, you were the one who called me." 

So, if I didn't call, would I be killed?

Rain just spoke to himself but didn't dare to ask aloud. He looked at P’Pai who lightly shook the drunk man's arm.

"Are you okay, Sky?"

The shaking caused the drunk man to slowly open his eyes, his face was flushed red, and Sky shook his head vigorously.

"No more, I want to go home." Sky mumbled then fell asleep. 

"Alright, let's go home now."

"Um."

The big man was so indulgent, he moved his hand from Sky’s shoulder to caress his hair lovingly, sharp eyes twinkling as he looked down.

Of course, it was an image that the entire table looked curiously at.

The image of a white friend slumped on the table next to them with a handsome, mature man stroking his hair on his shoulders was indeed attractive.

He is attractive in the same way as P’Phayu. They see him often, but Sky rarely brings his boyfriend to college. Most of the time Prapai parked the car and waited and then Sky would just walk to the car. He didn’t come to mingle with the classmates. Seeing Sky with his boyfriend, the prying eyes came straight from every direction, and believe me

tomorrow in the club, there will be teasing messages from seniors and guys in their class year.

He has a boyfriend who loves him so much. 

"Rain."

"Yes, P’Pai!" The person hastily answered.

Prapai took his hand away from his lover, pulled his wallet out of his trousers, then took out all the thousands of baht in banknotes that he had in it and handed it over to his boyfriend's friend. As Rain took the almost ten thousand (~$300) in cash and held it in a daze, his sharp eyes flashed, and he couldn't understand why P’Pai would give him the money.

"Today I am footing the bill. If it's not enough, call me, and I'll transfer the money to you."

"Really?"

"Why would I be joking? I am paying."

The whole table cheered in unison. 

"Oh my, Sky's boyfriend is so fucking caring." 

"We are going to another pub, that guy just paid."

"Damn, I'm jealous of Sky, I want someone like this."

"May Phi prosper, paying for us like this guarantees that in your next life you will be more handsome."

Amid the cheers of the free drinkers, Prapai just smiled, his face bright and clear, the kind of good-tempered adult that children wanted to approach even if he was a stranger.

"In exchange for that, no one can tease Sky about me picking him up."

He knew well that his boyfriend didn't like chaos, and didn't like to be the center of attention, so he gave the condition and his sharp eyes turned to make eye contact with Sig.

Giving him a smile that was as threatening as a zip-your-mouth gesture. It was a nice way to threaten his boyfriend’s classmates.

"Good, everyone agrees. I'll take Sky home now."

"Alright Phi, we'll keep our mouths shut." 

"That also includes no texting."

"Oh, P’Pai, you're really good at cornering us. Okay, trust us." Sig laughed loudly, looking at his friend's boyfriend, whom he had met so many times that he now knew Prapai’s personality.

After all the game bosses had been dealt with, Prapai turned to the sleeping man, looking like he wanted to carry him away. But rather than create a scene for his little boy, his big hand pulled Sky's arm around his neck. With some force, Sky staggered to his feet and leaned against him.

"Let's go home." 

"Um, I'm sleepy."

"You can sleep at home."

"Ugh, no, I'm going back to my dorm, so sleepy." Sky looked dumb, raising his free hand to rub his eyes to say that he's really sleepy.

"Yessir, let's go back to the dormitory." Prapai said politely, waving goodbye to the children around the table and leading his lover to walk out of the shop.

TN: After the assault on Sky in episode 13, Prapai sells his condo and buys a new and much larger one in a high-security building (Rain and Sky are hanging out at the condo's pool in the LITA special episode). This becomes his and Sky's home throughout the Special Novel (which covers around 10 years). However, when he is a student, Sky still keeps his dorm, since it's close to campus.

"When he's with his boyfriend, Sky is cute too." Behind his back, the female senior says jokingly.

Smack!

"Oh, why did you hit me?"

Sig himself smacked the senior's hands loudly and made a gesture of zipping his mouth in an annoyed manner. "Sis, don't you want free alcohol? Or are you deaf? Huh, what did P’Pai say just now? Bitch, have you forgotten? Do you have a short memory?"

"Damn it, Sig!!!"

That's all it took, and the story of a handsome boyfriend coming to pick up Sky instead turned into a war of saliva and cursing across the tables of seniors and juniors.

--------

"Sky, Sky... wake up, we're at the dorm."

Although the distance from the pub to the young boyfriend's dormitory was not that far, Sky did as he said and slept in the car. He leaned his head against the window and fell asleep immediately, not waking up even when Prapai repeated his call and shook his arm.

The sight looked so cute that Prapai smiled, and his big hand unbuckled Sky’s seatbelt and leaned over his boyfriend's seat. His face was sharp, sweeping away from the soft, fluffy hair that was unshaped, the skin of the cheeks smooth and clear like that of a baby's skin, and the long eyelashes laid on those cheeks.

No matter where he looks, Prapai finds Sky adorable.

Why, why do you always think that you look ordinary, even though you are so cute?

"Here, if you were awake, you would call me a psychopath who kept staring at you, Sky."

Mwaah!

He really couldn't help giving a big kiss to the soft cheeks before letting go of the soft skinned person.

Now, no one was around to see them, Sky wouldn't mind if he carried him up to the tower in his arms. Prapai shrugged and proceeded to carry the drunk man up to his room.

When Sky was propping himself up and sitting on the bed, Prapai had just changed from a slacks shirt to comfortable pajamas that he had left in his boyfriend's room. Sky’s white face looked sleepy, his eyes glistening from the effects of alcohol, but he didn't look as drunk as he did in the pub.

"Oh, why did you wake up? Get ready for bed, I’ll help change your clothes.”

"I'm not drunk, Phi Pai."

"Hmm." Prapai hummed in surprise, moved to stand beside the bed, and looked at the state of the drunk boy who said he was not drunk.

"Just now, I acted as if I was drunk so that Rain and the others wouldn't give me more alcohol." Sky replied with a slight slur, but Prapai could still understand him.

"I didn’t fall asleep in the pub, but I probably fell asleep in the car. P’Pai, did you carry me up upstairs?" the person said, looking up. The person who was listening couldn't help feeling that this angle was nice. Whether it's a flushed face or a view down the wide collar of the shirt, revealing beautiful and erect nipples.

"So, you mean that you pretended to be drunk."

"Well, back in high school, I drank even more than this."

"Whose boyfriend is this? So evil too, I fell for your acting completely."

"If I didn't make him believe it was real, Rain would do it again." the person who was speaking said, knowing his good friend well.

Prapai has to admit that he likes this angle… but even if Sky isn't as drunk as he pretended to be in the bar, it's still better to let the little boy rest.

"Sleepy, right? If you're sleepy, just go to sleep." 

"P’Pai."

"Yes sir?" A deep voice accepts the words, preparing to leave to find some clothes to change into.

Swipe!

"Just now, P’Pai, what were you looking at?" 

"Ugh!"

Suddenly, Sky used his hand to grab the big man's wrist and pull the big man back. And how could Prapai not gulp hard when his boyfriend deliberately fluttered his shirt around? From the first moment he stole a glance of Sky’s nipples, Sky saw him.

"Come on." The young man groaned in a low voice, wanting to cover his face with his hands and resist the temptation.

But Sky smiled. "P’Pai, you looked right? Do you want to touch them?"

He didn’t just say the words, Sky also grabbed his boyfriend's hand and moved it to hold his collarbone as he raised his head to make way for Prapai's big hand to reach into the wide collar. The power of alcohol made him force Prapai’s hand through the collar and touch his hot body.

Fip!

"Ugh." As soon as the fingertips passed the nipple, Sky let out a low moan.

That's all, Prapai now knows what it looks like when his little boyfriend drinks alcohol… he becomes a provocative cat that would almost drive him insane. 

When Prapai clearly teased him in a way that he normally wouldn’t, Sky held his breath. "Please rub, P’Pai." Sky whispered.

Prapai rubbed his hard knuckles in a circle around the base and listened to the sweet moan of his lover, then gently pinched with his fingertips. The person sitting on the bed writhed slightly. Sky’s body seemed more sensitive to touch than usual, and Prapai couldn't help but pinch and pull.

"Oh, good, good." The drunk person looks up and meets Prapai’s eyes, "Harder."

And damn it, his little one was licking his lips as their eyes met, the look in his eyes said that Sky wanted more.

Swipe!

"Phi Pai, your cock is hard." 

Sky is drunk, very drunk!

At first, Pai believed it when his boyfriend said he was pretending to be drunk. But as soon as a soft touch pressed against his pants, touched the hardened part through the fabric, and Sky laughed heartily, he understood that Sky had drunk more than he thought.

He should put Sky to bed and lull him to sleep. 

"P’Pai."

"Yes?"

"...Wanna do some licking?" 

Tum!

The evil side stomps the side of the dharma side, the evil side punches the good side in the face, and the righteous consciousness is scattered.

"Of course."

Prapai pulled his hand from the soft skin and made a move to unbutton his pants.

Pia!

"No, I want to do it." The drunk man smacked his hands hard and commanded in a stern voice before tucking his face into the crotch of his big boyfriend’s pants and rubs his hands along the part slowly.

Then, Sky pulled out his boyfriend’s son from inside his trousers. His eyes fixed on the red veined cock that had pierced his body countless times. The thin hand grasped the length, it was hot like a fire.

Mwaah!

Soft lips touch the tip before Sky swept his lips sideways from tip to root. Then the bright-colored tongue licked it, hungrily savoring the familiar taste. At the same time, the white hand stroked while the mouth was licking at the juicy tip.

"Mwaah...Mwaah...Phi Pai...Hmm."

The sight of his lover sucking on his cock just made Prapai even harder. However, Prapai only stood still with his big hand touching my head, stroking gently. Despite his heavy breathing, a low moan escaped from his throat.

But then, the white man broke away. "Hot."

Sky moaned a single word, then straightened up to take off his shirt and throw it by the bed, followed by pants and underwear. Everything was pulled all out at once, then dropped to the side and Sky was left naked. Sky returned to sit in a kneeling position facing the big cock.

The sight... is very provocative.

The white hand came back and he eagerly shoved Prapai’s cock into his mouth.

Sky's soft tongue licked around with a satisfying taste, then opened his mouth to receive most of the length. With both hands, Sky took Prapai's hand and made him grip his head, telling his lover that he could move his head back and forth as he wanted.

However, Prapai still didn’t slam his cock into Sky’s warm mouth, he almost couldn't resist. The young man just slowly brushed Sky’s messy hair and was in no hurry to release into his hot mouth cavity, which seemed to be hotter than usual.

Crack!

Sky didn't care about the sound of the bedside drawer opening, he only cared about the veined cock moving in and out of his mouth, wishing P’Pai could do more but…

"Ugh!!!" 

At that moment the clear gel ran down his buttocks until the drunk Sky groaned deep in his throat, sending a tremor that caused Prapai to moan low.

Not only did the lubricating gel run through the butt crack, but Prapai's big hand moved from Sky’s forearm to the other softly, squeezing both sides so hard that there would be faint red marks. The boy who was giving it to him groaned in his throat, his soft buttocks accidentally twitching toward him.

Fup!

Prapai himself did not let go, for a long finger was inserted deep into the sweet colored channel that only he could feel. Prapai felt the force of his thrust make Sky twitch with joy until Prapai sent his finger in all the way.

And damn it, the finger wriggled inside, Sky was insanely hot! 

"Arrgh."

Then, like a kitten turned cat would want to provoke him to the extreme, Sky swayed as if wanting more fingering until Prapai pulled his finger out and slammed it in again. Prapai felt the trembling of the boy who was still sucking on his cock for him.

The picture now is Sky crawling on the edge of the bed kneeling and watching Prapai stand beside the bed with a large hand skillfully inserting deep into the white body, making the person on the bed moan loudly; that's why it sent a trembling force into Prapai’s cock, still in Sky’s mouth until neither of the parties thought to endure anymore, their eyes glistening.

"Ah, ah, Sky? Can I enter you?" Prapai spoke in a heavy voice, his sharp eyes staring at the white hips that also thrust against his fingers.

"Mmm." A request that Sky himself sucked hard on caused a low moan from the big man.

Sky, whose face was so sweaty that his damp hair clung to it, lifted his head and gave him a sweet smile, "Yes, Pai." 

Fip!

The drunk man moved to lie on his back, immediately spread out in the middle of the bed. Two legs spread wide, revealing a naked body flushed with red all over, and a cramped and wet channel, twitching as if demanding something big to fill it.

 And it's like Sky thought he wasn’t provoking Prapai enough, because his white hands had already moved to grab his soft ass and pull the white cheeks further apart. 

"Phi Pai, hurry." 

Ping!

Prapai heard the sound of something torn apart, and that was probably his own consciousness.

He immediately rushed toward Sky, and a large hand pulled the two provocative hands above his head. Then he pinned them with one hand until they sank into the thick blanket, sending his other hand to the hole below and... inserting three fingers at once.

"Ah, ah, Phi Pai, ah!"

Prapai looked at Sky with his sweaty face shaking, wriggling beneath him, as he fumbled for something with his fingers; And it didn't take long for Sky to startle as if he had been electrocuted.

"Right there...argh."

The big one managed to pull his fingers out, and sent his big son in his place, at the moment Sky looked down.

"Ugh!" Prapai bent down and pressed a provocative kiss on the lips until they were close, almost at the same moment that he plunged into the hot tenderness... So hot that he almost came immediately.

As the person below cried out in full volume, a trembling sensation was felt along with a slight stabbing pain inside. But when Prapai first entered him, he stilled because he knew that something long would follow, and it didn’t take Prapai long to push all the way in.

Sky’s two legs split open even more.

Sky didn't know if he should be interested in the insanely hot kiss, or the stick moving in and out of his body.

It's good, it's so good that he doesn't want to stop at all.

"Phi Pai, uh... fuck me like that again, do it again... [huff] [huff] good, it’s so good."

As soon as his lips were freed from the kissing, Sky let out a loud moan, his small hip pushing up against the slamming force. His newly freed hands grasped the sheets beside his head, and clear tears welled up in his eyes, looking like they could fall at any moment.

"Do you like it?"

"Love it, but I like... P’Pai, more."

The piercing moment made Sky sway and his back channel tightened more and more, his body twitching as if waves of happiness would come crashing in at any moment.

Suddenly!

Prapai slowed down the pace, wishing to prolong this moment a little longer.

He would always give Sky anything he wanted, today the drunk one took charge. "Hey, wait Sky." Did the alcohol made the child braver than usual? Because Sky pushed the giant Prapai onto the bed, and then, the drunk man straddled him. His soft hand felt the heat of Prapai’s cock, but he wouldn't let Prapai cum.

He felt that Phi Pai should only cum inside him.

With these thoughts, Sky pushed his legs wide apart, his tantalizing face tilted up and his hips pressed down to take the hot stick into his body… to the deepest part.

"Arrgh."

Sky bit his lip vigorously, as he pulled his body up and pressed it all the way down again, again and again until the heat gathered in his lower abdomen, his heart pounding, his ears soft. His legs began to shake.

Prapai’s cock was twitching in a pulsating beat that drove them both crazy to death. 

"Mmmhpf, I can't endure anymore."

"And who...ask Phi to endure...it." Sky’s panting voice answered in a rhythm that was broken.

And that…

Swipe!

"Assume that I have already warned you." 

Phew!

"Ah! [huff] Phi Pai, Phi Pai, harder and harder."

Prapai moved forward vigorously and looked at the beautiful view of his ruddy lover, his two hands reaching behind him to grab Prapai’s knees to support himself. Sky's two legs spread wide enough for him to see the connection point where his cock was moving in and out with force. Sky’s own  beautiful piece of flesh bounced in front of him until Prapai couldn’t resist reaching out to stroke it.

"I am going to cum ...it’s coming out."

Even if Sky didn’t tell him, Prapai himself was going crazy from the twitching inside, and he knew that his lover would cum in one minute or another by the way he spead up. 

Prapai's sharp eyes looked at the sweet love hole that devoured him with even hungrier eyes, a bright tongue licking around his lips.

Pfuuush! 

Not long after, Sky’s body began to spasm and released every drop of cum he had, smearing Prapai’s his strong stomach.

As the pressure from Sky reaching the dreamland itself gripped Prapai like crazy, after just one blow, hot cum sprayed into the provocateur's body. Sky trembled, and moaned softly, eyes tightly closed, as he felt the fluid that filled his inner depths.

But don't think that everything will end there.

Prapai once again pushed the exhausted drunk onto the soft mattress, holding his white legs wide apart.

"Mmmhpf! Phi Pai, wait, ah, fuck!" Sky cried out at the top of his voice.

He felt a flash of tenderness rushing in. At the same moment, a hot tongue was licking his abused love hole, drawing out the cum that was flowing backward from his twisted waist. Clear tears streamed down the corners of his eyes, both hands gripping Prapai's thick hair tightly.

Who would have thought that P’Pai would put his tongue in that same place his own cum flowed out of?

"Ugh, huh, good."

"Lewd." 

Prapai raised his head mockingly, and that made Sky turn red. "Who exactly is lewd?"

The young man gave him a smile, a low voice whispering in a raspy voice. "So, we're both lewd to each other."

After he finished saying that, the sharp face tucked into its original position right into that still twitching hole, Prapai knew very well that the shy Sky liked when he licked his love hole right after fucking it rudely. So, having provoked him, Sky had to accept his fate tonight.

"Phi Pai, ah, it tingles."

In the silence of the night, in the dormitory of a young man named Sky. The groans echoed with the moving sound of the soft mattress, time after time, and it didn't seem to end so easily.

[lolitastories]

News

Bucky Barnes

“We know that it had to be critical,” The reporter spoke, it's like she wanted to push the mic down my throat. “Can you tell us more about the case?” The cameras flashed into my eyes as I stood up straight to give my rehearsed answer.

“I can’t give information at the moment but I will tell you that it is nothing to worry about.” Being the front man for Tony’s company and now the Avengers, has been a piece of cake (not). I am used to the cameras and the people behind it. I am used to them not caring for personal space or taking such little information back with them. 

“If it wasn’t something to worry about then why are the avengers here?” one man screams over

“The new Captain America, the Falcon right?” Another faint voice follows

“Yeah! And the Winter Soldier! What about the others?” My face was stuck on professionalism, if it wasn’t I would have looked like a bitch right now in front of everybody here and at home.

“I understand your worries!” I raise my hand trying to calm myself to chatter. “If you give me 10 minutes I will put out a statement that will answer all your questions,” The people around me nodded and smiled. They were like dogs, you throw them enough treats and they would forget about you, but that's only for a moment. The cameras kept on flashing as I tried to step away from the crowd but it was impossible considering how the crowd consisted of bigger people with even bigger cameras.

“I got you,” I flinched, feeling someone grab my arm and as I twisted to acknowledge it, I felt calmer. The arm was stretching through the people and I recognized that arm anywhere and that voice too. I looked up and there he was, Bucky. He pushed passed, not letting go of my arm. He gave me a smile as he got close enough. “Hi.” He whispered.

“Here to save me?” I tease

“It's what I do.” He shrugs nonchalantly. His arm wraps around my waist as he starts pulling me alongside him. His other arm pushed the cameras and people out of the way. Soon the white flash was no longer, it was replaced by police lights surrounding the building. “You okay?” I shake off the disappointing expression on my face as he slides his arm away.

“Yes, thank you.” I look over and see how the reporters have scattered and then I turn back to the building. Bucky had led me past the police tape, the reporters couldn’t follow or barge in on me at any moment. “How bad was it?” I watch Bucky’s tall figure turn towards the building, broken glass and scared people being taken care of all around.

“We haven’t narrowed it down but I will say 7.” He looked over at me, maybe expecting a sort of scared face but I am numb to all of it. Years working for Tony, this can’t compare to what the world went through before.

“Out of- 50?” I joke. He shakes his head disappointed. Bucky was kind. Came from a hardship of people not trusting him and now that people look up to him, he is afraid to fail them. “Buck?” I tilt my head slightly trying to capture his eyes. “Bucky,” I said a little more sternly and finally, he lifted his head to meet my gaze. “This isn’t all on you, you know that?”

“I know.” He lets out a sigh. He looks away. I hold back a laugh, it wasn’t funny, I just find it cute when he stresses himself out about this. He is loved and it's hard for him to wrap his head around it.

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?” He still doesn’t look at me. I walk forward leaving little to no room between us. My hand moved up to cup his face and make him face me.

“We are all here to help you. You are not doing this alone, you won’t fail anyone.” I watch how his shoulders fall. His hands are still frozen to his side but a smile, his pretty smile reappears. “People who love you know that there is a person here,” Without looking down I press my palm on his chest. “Even a hero has one of these.” I could feel his heart pumping, no power needed.

“LOVEBIRDS!” I pull away, we both turn to see Sam running towards us. I could feel Bucky’s presence still close behind me. “I got intel on the group,” He pulls out his phone. “We should go back and see what we can gather on this.” He turns his phone over showing a picture.

“Flag Smashers,” Bucky read. It was a spray painted wall. The same font found in this place.

“Yep-” His sentence got cut short when a police truck pulled up. The flash mob of reporters now crowding the poor chief of police. “Seems like he’s got it handled.” He joked, turning around and walking away. My eyes stay glued to the man looking left and right for answers when he doesn’t know anything yet.

“This is going to be a long night, want to grab something to eat?” I turn my head over.

“I have to help him, Buck.” I point it out. “Atleast get him away to allow him to do his work.” He looks a little annoyed but quickly covers it. He sighs in defeat and starts walking over to the chief. “Where are you going?”

“Helping him, so I can take my girl home,” He turns his head, sending me a wink.

A/N: A cute little prompt. I need ideas to write for him, I am in a drought.

[luluthespectator]

Rough beginning

I finally finished the continuation of A New Era. It took time but I believe in “quality over quantity”. I’m tagging someone who wanted to see this @jay--o. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

After the celebration, when the aliens went back in their respective sectors, The Pillars stepped in the ship. The corridors were large enough to fit all three of them in the same line.

However, Scozar quickly slithered in front of the group, taking its lead while exploring. It didn’t bother the two others. Maena looked around the place, her eyes expertly scanning the ship, giving her all the information she needed.

The corridors were pristine, it had a white immaculate look. The look a ship has right after its construction. She would probably be one of the first pilots to fly it outside of the atmosphere.

The Primavix walked slowly behind them. They kept their hands together but didn’t seem to pay any attention to their surroundings. Perhaps, they were, but with only a sphere for a head, the others couldn’t tell their expression.

The Pillars were all quiet when they entered the pilot’s room. However, The Human started to smile and her expression brightened. She ran over to the pilot’s chair, ignoring the aggressive look Scozar gave her when she passed by him.

She let herself collapse on the chair, laughing to herself. She opened some holographic screens before feeling the ominous presence of a shadow above her. She didn’t need to look up from the holograms to know it was Scozar. She could feel vibrations in her whole body however the translation device on her ear told her exactly what was “said”:

-Who allowed you to do that?

Her brows furrowed. She opened her mouth but no sound came. She thought for a few seconds, looking through a few settings, before answering perplexed:

-Well, I’m going to be the pilot, so I kind of need to understand how the ship operates, to change some settings, just get used to it.

-Don’t you understand where you stand?

This question confused her even more. What did he mean by that? Did he want to know if she knew she was standing on a chair? Or did he want to ask where she stood in a hierarchy point of view?

-Where I stand?

Scozar half-closed his eyes, harbouring some kind of smug expression. He put his sun-themed spear in his other hand, closer to Maena. She could make out the details on it. 

Strange lines were carved in the orange metal holding a black blade. Some of those lines morphed into additional spikes near the already sharp blade. He seemed somewhat proud to brandish it. It reflected in his words.

-I was chosen to be your leader.

-I’ve never heard that. 

Upon hearing it, he glared at Maena. His eyes were almost closed but she could still feel his gaze. What was he feeling? He was either angry or looking down on her. Who was she kidding? Of course he was looking down on her. She continued, less confident than she wanted:

-I thought we were supposed to make decisions together.

-Don’t you know why they made me come here?

She stopped fiddling with the settings for a moment and thought about what she had learned about his species, tapping her nails on the desk.

-Well, from as far as I understand, they put you here to keep some kind of truce going.

-Indeed. Do you see the implication now?

She didn’t like where this was going. 

-The implication? By implication, you mean that if I bruise your ego, you’re going to bring your people to a war?

-Well, if it is easier for you to understand Human, it is indeed what could happen.

She stood up from her chair. Even then, she wasn’t taller than his shoulder. She turned her head towards The Primavix, perhaps they knew how to handle a situation like this.

She didn’t find anything comforting in the black sphere of their head. She saw only a distorted reflection of the room, her and Scozar being strange shapes in the background. She looked back at The Kerox, she needed to find a way to get out of this argument.

He was bluffing was he? Keroxes are known for strategy, it’s not very strategic to go to war for that. They would go down in history as a petty species. She put on her poker face and asked with too much disdain for something meant to be diplomatic.

-Isn’t that selfish?

-Do you want it to become true?

She crossed her arms and stared right in Scozar’s eyes. His pupils were that of a cat during the day. She gauged him. Was he bluffing? It was difficult to tell, the rest of his scaly body didn’t move. She sighed.

-No.

-Well.

For a moment, she was taken aback. She looked back at The Primavix. They just stood there, quiet, unmoving, a statue of a saint of some kind. They would give her no help from as far as she could tell. 

She looks up to the Kerox again. A feeling in her gut warned her that this was only the beginning of his intimidation attempts. She wanted to put a stop to it, but she didn’t know if he was kidding or not. This conversation left a bad taste in her mouth. It was safer to give him a win for the moment.

-So do I continue…or?

-No. We have the rest of the ship to look at.

-Right…

———

They walked across the corridors in a tense silence. They ended up in a large room. One side was filled with places to sit down, pillows, carpets, a few tables with chairs and large flat rocks. On the other side, metallic instruments were installed on a counter.

Scozar’s deep growls filled the room. He seemed rather suspicious of what was on the counter, passing his spear in his clawed hand closer to it.

-What are those instruments?

Maena answered without thinking:

-Cooking.

Scozar looked at her, eyes half-shut. This time, his indigo feathers on his spine rose up slightly. She wondered if she made a mistake. Just to be sure, she tried to make her expression as neutral as possible. The Kerox asked:

-What is that?

She didn’t understand what kind of problem she dumbly ran into. She turned her head to an unmoving Primavix. Why was she looking for support in them? She decided to repeat:

-Cooking. They’re used for cooking food. We put food in those and then we eat.

-You need all of that just to eat? Pathetic.

It wasn’t the first time she heard that question from an alien. She usually didn’t really mind. But Scozar’s condescending remark got under her skin. She let out under her breath:

-Bet you eat like an animal.

-What did you say?

-Nothing.

-That’s what I thought.

Her anger made her make yet another mistake. Deviating the conversation was the best strategy she could think of. She turned towards The Primavix and asked:

-Either way, what do you think? Does it look cosy to you?

-We have yet to settle on an answer, Human.

-Alri-

Scozar interrupted Maena with a more assertive roar:

-I claim the headlands.

Maena looked around looking for places above them. What was even a headland? She had trouble picturing a headland in her head. She imagined something more natural. Her gaze went to the only natural things in the room.

-You mean…the rocks?

-If it is easier for you to understand, yes.

-Sure.

Scozar’s back bent over, his straight posture was gone, like something in his spine had snapped. He was now arched, almost on four legs but not quite yet. He seemed to put all his weight on his sun-themed spear and two bottom legs. This time, a more satisfied and quiet grumble passed through the air.

-Humans do learn fast.

She was about to tell him that it wasn’t out of respect but because she wasn’t interested in sitting on rocks. For the wellbeing of the mission, she decided to keep her mouth shut.

Instead, she used this window of opportunity to ask:

-If it’s okay with everyone, we should check the reactor core. Just to see if it doesn’t have any defects.

At that demand, Scozar got back to his straight posture like nothing happened. His gaze pierced through Maena.

-Are you giving orders?

-There’s a reason I said “If it’s okay with everyone”.

-We will check it last.

She put her hands on her hip and looked Scozar right in the eyes. She sighed, between anger and defeat: 

-Thanks. I really appreciate it.

-You learn fast, but you should change your tone.

She was at two fingers to blurt out a sarcastic “Yes, your majesty.”. But again, she didn’t know how The Kerox would take it. She didn’t want to be stuck on having to say that for the rest of the mission.

She was also desperate to hear The Primavix talk more. She needed to have an idea of how much support she could get from them.

———

Scozar was adamant on exploring the darker corridors, Maena was definitely not and The Primavix just followed. She pestered at the idea of having places without any type of lights. 

Scozar’s eyes and teeth glowed, this made her even more paranoid. It was not what she wanted to see. At some point, she couldn’t see a thing and decided to retreat to the border between light and utter darkness. Scozar of course had to say something about it.

-I guess humans’ inability to see in the dark is getting in your way. What if I make you come with me either way?

-Then I’ll bump into things.

-I’d love to see it. Especially when you won’t be able to do the same.

That’s when The Primavix stepped between them, they took their time but now they moved. It was enough to get the two to pay attention to them.

-We believe it is unnecessary to bring The Human. Our goal and your goal is exploration. If The Human cannot explore, then it is useless.

Somehow, this made The Kerox think. He pondered, his eyes fixed on Maena. She hated the vision of just two floating eyes and teeth, pointed menacingly towards her. But she kept her expression neutral despite the goosebumps.

She tried to focus on how glad she was to have The Primavix by her side at that moment. She could probably count on them when it truly mattered. The Kerox finally hissed:

-Fine. She can stay there.

She didn’t want to be standing there doing nothing. Could she push her luck though? She could certainly try.

-Since we’re going on separate ways, I could check on the reactor co-

-No. When we’ll come back, you will be at the same spot. Unless, you truly want to come with us?

-Alright. I’ll stay right here. Dang!

She regretted not having taken a flashlight with her. She would have “accidentally” put it in The Kerox’s face. For a lack of better things to do, she sat down, covered herself with her coat like a blanket, and wrote down a few things on her holographic notes.

———

After an agonisingly long time in the shadows, Scozar and The Primavix came back from the depths of darkness. She heard them before she saw Scozar’s terrifyingly ugly glowing features. There was, of course, the stomping of feet but it was accompanied by a faint ticking sound.

When she saw Scozar’s face rising up at the end of the corridor, she decided it was wiser to keep a flashlight at all times in the future. She got up and focused instead on the strange sound. That’s when Scozar decided to growl:

-You are a very obedient human.

-I got bored out of my mind.

-This doesn’t mean we’ll see the reactor core faster.

-That’s good to know I suppose.

Scozar passed by her, shooting her a smug stare. She crossed her arms and walked behind him. She listened to her surroundings. It seemed like the sound was either coming from the dark corridors or it was drowned by her feet on the metal.

They discovered almost everything in the ship. Scozar was particularly careful to not accidentally step in the reactor room. It was as if he could tell where it was. He also took his sweet sweet time exploring every single corner and spot.

Eventually, Scozar had to step into the last room. When they got in, Maena could already hear the buzzing sound emanating from the reactor core. She got closer, kneeling beside a large immaculate metallic box.

She listened closer to the variations of sounds. It was how she learnt to determine whether a reactor core was powerful or defective. This one made waves of sounds, like some kind of soothing crackling water. It was regular and intense.

She was amazed by the quality of the sound. It meant it had a lot of power and could potentially make them travel space faster and for a longer period of time too. It could perhaps bend space better, perhaps it could even be less painful if something bad happens during one of those “space folding”.

She passed her hand on the smooth metal. It was definitely not human-made. The exterior wasn’t what mattered though. She had no difficulties taking it away, revealing a complex network of blue phosphorescent cables keeping gems together.

She could see three layers of those intricate circuits. She hoped to never have to repair the last layer, she already predicted it would be a pain in whatever didn’t see the light often.

The interior rang with a crystalline sound, reminiscent of a heartbeat. She put the box back on top of it. She tapped it with her index, looking back at the other Pillars. 

-This is one of the best reactors I have ever seen in my life.

At that, The Primavix said nothing and didn’t move. However, Scozar raised his head high, like he was proud. However, he quickly took that opportunity to look at her from up high and growl:

-You better keep it that way.

-Well, it should stay that way on its own. If it breaks down without any provocation then it’s not a good reactor. But I don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon.

She rose on her feet and readjusted her coat on her shoulders. She walked towards the exit. This time, from the corner of her eyes, she noticed Scozar’s cold glare as she passed by him. She acted like she didn’t acknowledge him.

-Either way, I’m done here.

She could tell he was unsatisfied. People like him had a tendency to drive her crazy. The nerves to think he is entitled to everything made her blood boil. She knew it wasn’t diplomatic at all. She knew she was asking for it at that point but before exiting the room, she turned towards The Kerox and taunted:

-See? Did it take that much of your time?

-This is not how you are getting me to cooperate next time. Your strategy is flawed.

He was so right. But she wouldn’t admit it out loud. She didn’t really think about it, she just wanted to match his level of pettiness.

-Well, answer me. Did it take that much time for me to check the reactor core?

-You shouldn’t give me orders. Must I remind you of what I could do?

This would have stopped her but she had gone too far now. She decided it was bluff and kept going.

-Answering a question with another question? Is that all you’re going to do? Or can’t you admit that it didn’t take much of your time?

His indigo feathers on his spine rose to their full length. His stare pierced her, this time, it felt like daggers.

-You were about to get out of my sight, which would have been appreciated. 

He slithered towards her, slowly but surely, menacingly. His powerful muscles rolled under his scales. The bottom of his spears accompanied his motion, the tapping echoed like a clock of doom.

-But you decided to stay and mock me.

Why did she do that? What in the world was she thinking? She was paralysed with a hand on the door frame. She stared at him, not out of bravery, but out of utter terror. She just couldn’t look away as he approached dangerously close.

She was reminded that there were other apex predators amongst the other species of the galaxy, there were other death-worlders. She remembered that the death-worlder standing in front of her fought in a war and lived. In fact, at that moment, she was reminded of her own mortality.

If she wasn’t going to die from the claws of The Kerox she was certainly going to die from a heart attack. Her heart was pounding for its life. Each of its beats effectively beat the inside of her chest. Sweat was dripping from everywhere. 

That’s when The Primavix stepped in front of her, like a saviour. They made a physical barrier between her and Scozar. They actually stood up to The Kerox, they faced him. Their calming voice filled her translator:

-We believe there is no need for aggression. The night was long and our thoughts and yours are divergent and clouded by exhaustion. We and you mustn’t forget that we and you are the new era’s beacon. The failure of this mission would be a shame for everyone.

Maena finally figured out what The Primavix was: they were the voice of reason. She watched in awe as The Kerox stopped in his tracks and pondered like he did before. She let out a sigh of relief. She was suddenly light-headed. She declared on a more casual tone than she thought she could muster:

-Yeah, I agree. I’m going outside for…fresh air.

She promptly left the room and went outside as fast as she could. She was going to die from her own stupidity someday. This whole “New Era” thing was dumb. They were going to kill each other before anything meaningful would be made.

Back to masterlist

Back to A New Era

[blackvahana]

i am really never going to understand why people post "shifting antis dni" in the astral projection tag. "here practice that constantly gets appropriated by us and used as a weird justification for a new set of beliefs that aren't really based in the same reality you work with, and that also gets completely misunderstood by our community because we don't care to understand what you do and just pretend we know it's what we do like christians saying other religions worship the christian god, have a post! Also dni if you don't like our practice that has nothing to do with the one whose tag we just shoved this into"

if you're not astral projecting don't put shit in the ap tag. if you don't even know the difference between AP and RS I dont think your opinion holds enough weight to counter the pushback against flooding a separate practice's tag with "if you dont like the practice I'm talking about in your tags dni"

[fionnaskyborn]

current mood:

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about a house. the house is sentient but not in a way i would typically recognize. it would view me as both a part of itself (similar to how an animal is a part of its ecosystem) and also something inherently lesser (like how an owner views its pet). i can't communicate with it in any meaningful way. i can't even tell when it's paying attention to me if it doesn't try to draw my attention. it can manipulate whatever is inside of itself except me, which would give me a sort of edge if it ever viewed me as a threat, but since it doesn't it sees it in more of a "awww look at your little claws" way.

[kaijutegu]

Alligator Bites Might Never Heal, But Doechii Is Good At Holding Alligators

Doechii won the Grammy for Best Rap Album for Alligator Bites Never Heal, but she also should have won the coveted and definitely not fictitious "Best Alligator Handling" award for the way she held Coconut on the cover!

(Yes, it's this Coconut.)

And the best part? She released a BTS video showing how they shot the cover, meaning that we can see more than just the still image! If a picture's worth a thousand words, video's worth... a lot more. (Sorry if it autoplays I don't think I have any control over that either way)

So, using the photoshoot images and video as evidence, let's take a look at how Doechii handled this alligator very well! I'm going to go into excruciating detail here because I think it's important to know why something is good just as much as it is important to know why something is bad. It's hard to understand alligator body language a lot of the time, so in this writeup, I will address how Doechii's holding the gator and what she's doing right, as well as point out how you can tell from Coconut's reactions that she is not distressed.

Body Support

In the album cover image, Doechii is seated, which is good, because even though she's a small alligator, Coconut is a very strong and powerful creature. That tail is pure muscle! But even in the standing images, you can see that Doechii is giving Coconut great body support and holding her correctly- close to the body, but without grabbing too tightly or being restrained uncomfortably. I think for a gator of this size I would have recommended pinning the back foreleg against her body for a little additional support and movement restriction- but I don't think she had to restrict movement because Coconut seems quite relaxed!

In the seated image, Doechii has one hand under Coconut's chest, supporting her sternum and head. The other hand is on top of her tail, and her knee is under the pelvic girdle. This type of hold lets the alligator feel safe; remember that these are aquatic and terrestrial creatures. An insecure hold that risks dropping them is going to stress them out and make them uncomfortable. By holding the alligator gently against her body and not squeezing, she's avoiding any uncomfortable pressure.

Head and Throat Support

In all of the images, Doechii is bringing her hand under Coconut's neck, creating a cradle with her hand so that the alligator can rest her head. But what she's not doing is she is not squeezing or grabbing the throat. The throat is one of the soft bits of an alligator, and squeezing it too tightly is very uncomfortable for them. But the way Doechii is supporting her gives her several degrees of freedom to move her head if she so chooses.

Body Language

Another indication of good handling is that it's clear that Coconut is not uncomfortably stressed. Alligators express displeasure with being held in a lot of ways, including struggling to get away, hissing, and holding their mouths open. (If you want to know more and see my sources, you can read my post on alligator body language. LOTS of info there, including peer-reviewed ethology sources that explain what alligators do and why they do it! Go get your data-driven answers!)

But Coconut isn't doing that; she's calm and alert. You can see in the BTS video that she's active on set. She's not shut down, and when she wants to walk around, she's not restrained. Obviously the video is an edited timelapse, and it's not the whole story- but when people show alligators in media, they usually don't know enough about them to edit out any uncomfortable body language. So I think that if she had been upset, we would have seen that.

We can also see in the video that Coconut is unbanded, meaning her mouth was not held shut. I thought they might have banded her and then edited the band out for the cover, but no, there was nothing restricting any distress cues. Banding is usually done for public safety, but the facility Coconut's from... doesn't do that, so I'm not surprised she's unbanded. At least it gives more evidence that she's not trying to gape!

One more good indicator that Coconut was comfortable is that she's got her eyes open, which you can even kinda see in the video if you zoom in. Reptiles will often squinch their eyes shut to avoid distressing stimuli or signal distress, and albino alligators have even more reasons to do this. They're much more sensitive to light than their pigmented counterparts. But it looks like her on-set work was completed quickly, meaning that she didn't have to be around bright lights for long.

In conclusion:

Doechii's album cover is an example of good alligator handling. Yay!

That said, please note that this is only about handling and is divorced from any other issues surrounding this particular alligator. (Read the body language post if you want more on that.) These are not issues I'm touching in this post, because that's not the point! I simply want to point out an instance of good handling and how you can identify relaxed body language in an animal that is notoriously hard to read when posted on social media.

[punkitt-is-here]

Hi, I'm genuinely looking for an explanation here and not looking for an argument /srs

Can you explain how calling a transfem a TERF for spreading ideology that I genuinely assumed was included in the definition of TERFism is othering ? Not to be that guy, but I'm autistic and I'm having a very hard time connecting the points you're making, and I genuinely want to learn and understand what you're saying /gen

Again, I do hope this doesn't come off as hostile, I am genuinely trying to learn and understand better, and I want to be able to fix misconceptions about what a TERF is in my own mind, and I haven't seen anyone bring this point up before /gen

You absolutely do not have to answer this, but I hope you have a fabulous rest of your day, and I do apologize for what I said, as it wasn't necessary for me to comment on the situation.

Yeah totally! Okay, I got a lot of this from Ibram X. Kendi's "How to be Antiracist"* where he talks about describing "racist" as an identity means that hardly anyone is going to ever "identify" with it, even if they are a racist. It's much more helpful to talk about actions being racist or anti-racist. Someone committing racist acts speaks far more to the vulnerability of anyone to cause harm, rather than it being something ONLY reserved for someone with the identity of "racist". For example, Clarence Thomas, a black man, has done untold amounts of harm to the black population in the US. If we subscribe to the "oh, (X) can't be racist, they are (a minority)" train of thought, it means people are less likely to understand that Clarence Thomas commits racist acts. In the same way, describing yourself as an anti-racist is not enough, as it can let people be comfortable with racist actions because they think "oh, I'm an anti-racist, I can't commit acts of racial harm." That's why it's more helpful to describe acts as racist and anti-racist rather than framing them as identities.

In a similar way, describing someone as the label of "TERF" can have a similar effect. Because it's specifically a label centered around being anti-trans, transgender people of all kinds will easily assume they cannot be transphobic, because the label of TERF is ideologically opposed to their existence. It invites ridicule rather than introspection. By saying actions can be transphobic, I think it helps a lot more because it's easier to understand that trans people can be transphobic. For example, Blaire White is right there. Despite being a trans woman, she is actively doing transphobic acts. By calling out an action as transphobic rather than describing someone as a "TERF", it helps fight back against the idea that being trans means you cannot be transphobic. For a super duper simple example, I can step on my dogs tail, but it doesn't mean I hate dogs, it means I committed an act of harm against my dog. Describing me as a dog-hater when I LOVE dogs would invite ridicule more than it would a tendency to watch my step when my dog is in the house. I hope this makes sense!

*I'm not trying to say the Black and Trans experience is exactly the same, just that like any oppressed group, there is a lot of overlap in tactics and thinking, especially for people who are Black and Trans. Reading about other groups can really give you a ton of helpful insight on how to work within your own identity!

[undyinglantern]

logically I don’t even think I’m doing horribly (the guy training me told the manager I was doing “pretty well” about handling a “mini-rush”) but mentally my mind keeps telling me oh he’s just lying because we keep getting out breaks at the same time and since I’m practically tailing him of course he’s say that to be nice during the only opportunity to speak to the manager. Only since I’m around and can listen in is he saying something nice.

[belovedmusings]

Am I Playing All Right Now?

Kento Nanami x You

Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’. 

Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion

Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)

A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)

Read below cut:

The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks. 

You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–

He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–

“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners. 

“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”

His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”

Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”

He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”

“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”

“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”

“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”

That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”

It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”

“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”

The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”

“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”

“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”

He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”

“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”

“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.

Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”

He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.

“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained. 

“Maybe I want dangerous.”

He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him. 

He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.

Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Expensive?”

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”

A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.

He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.

Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.

“Can I?”

Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.

Oh.

No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.

You nod.

“Words.”

Oh, damn.

“Yes, you can.”

“Good girl.”

You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.

“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.

“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.

Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”

A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”

“Yeah.”

Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.

“Still good?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your next breath is shaky. “More.”

He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.

“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”

“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”

“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”

He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing. 

You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.

“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”

“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”

You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.

What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?

Wait. Just a little bit.

“What about just the tip?”

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.

Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.

Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”

Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out. 

“Let me decide that.”

His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you. 

As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.

You want more. 

You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.

Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes. 

It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.

Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.

In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”

The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.

You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins. 

You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.

A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.

“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.

All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you. 

“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.

“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.

“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”

The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”

“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”

Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”

“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”

He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way. 

“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.

The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it. 

“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.

His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.

It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.

You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure. 

Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.

Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.

“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”

You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out. 

“Don’t do that again.”

The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to test your limits.”

__

A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.