#and when they leave long-ass in depth comment

[silvershadow1711]

Don't hide this in the tags- you're right and you should say it. Seeing people say shit like "I would pay money to have this feature (second kudos button)" is so fucking depressing. Instead of leaving a comment for the author, engaging with them like a fellow fan, potentially making a new friend, entirely for free, you would... pay money to NOT interact with them? Do you fucking hear what you're saying? "I want to show the authors more love" THEN TALK TO THEM!! YOU SHOW THEM LOVE BY ENGAGING WITH THEM!! All this shit you're saying on tumblr? SAY IT TO THE AUTHORS YOU LOVE! This shit is why fandom culture as a whole is dying, because people don't want to interact with their fellow fans, they just want to consume content.

i wish ao3 allowed people to give kudos per each chapter. These 100k word NOVELS need more love than 200 tiny digital hearts ☹️

[thargelalia]

see you in hell, baby

jason todd x fem!reader

Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law

-> 1.4k words

-> fluff, poor attempt at humor

-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?

please, reblog if you like or the author will cry

There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Or is it?

“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?” 

He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, but chooses to ignore him, too immersed in his current book to care. 

Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace. 

“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”

His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory. 

“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day again.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”

Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble. 

Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course. 

“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”

The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him. 

“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”

“It was an accident!”

“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”

Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!” 

“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.

Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.

“I know! What do I do now??”

“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”

“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”

“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”

As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes. 

And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it. 

“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”

His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”

“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.” 

Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes frantically. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”

Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.” 

Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove. But his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy. An impressive display of sheer core strength.

“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”

“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.

Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air. 

He lowers it, closing his mouth. 

Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride. 

“That’s not the point! The point is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”  

There’s a shocked gasp. 

“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”

An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”

“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”

“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”

Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.

You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”

“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”

With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.

“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.

Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.

“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.

Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips. 

“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.

He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”

“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”

“Oh. Oh.” 

“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”

“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”

“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?” 

Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?” 

The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile. 

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.” 

A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!

Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33

divider is from here

[defmaybe]

After-class Activities

ITZY’s Shin Ryujin x Male Reader

700 words

A/N: BFH-ish lol, more pegging!!!

—

Wet squelching sounds of clapping skins echo through the classroom. It’s her thighs against yours creating an obscene vibration. The room reeks of sex and sweat. Ryujin’s nails dig into the curve of your waist as she fucks you with reckless abandon—plastic cock sliding in and out of your ass, spilling lube everywhere onto the floor. Your cries reverberate through the room as Ryujin’s length keeps hitting your prostate over and over again.

“You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love when daddy hits that prostate and makes you want to cum like a little cockslut, don’t you?”

“Ah–yes–yes, daddy. I’m your little cockslut,” you manage to reply, voice all airy and debauched from the immense pleasure you’re feeling, and you hear a giggle from behind. Her cock is stretching your asshole out so well. You aren’t going to walk back to your dorm straight by the time this is done.

You grab onto the edge of the teacher's table ever so tightly, trying to get a hold in this violent fucking you’re going through. Your pants and boxers are pooling at your ankles, shaking as Ryujin continues to fuck you with reckless abandon from behind. Her dildo is so thick, so long you’re sure that it’s going to make a bulge in your belly. Ryujin’s nails rake on your slim, slutty waist, leaving red marks on the smoothness of your skin. Her huffs are nothing but arousing to you, a signal of her effort in this raw, senseless fucking.

“Goddamn–” Ryujin growls, before slapping your cheek harshly, making you yelp in sudden pain. She pulls on your hair as she fucks your snug hole with no relent. The walls of your ass flutter around her length. Your cock dangles from your hips helplessly, swinging around in the air as its owner is being bent over and fucked in the ass.

It started with small things—glancing over as you walk by, making crude comments about your ass, jerking you off from behind in front of the bathroom mirror like you’re her bitch (you’re her bitch). And the best part of all of this? Being fucked senseless from behind, and call her with a moniker that suits her so fucking well: daddy.

Her cock is plowing your fragile, sensitive inner walls a little too well. The dildo is a perfect fit for you—long enough to attack your prostate, short enough to make it pleasant rather than painful, enough ridges and veins to graze your inner walls and make you moan like some useless cocksleeve for the class president Shin Ryujin.

As the barrage of her hammering goes on, the all-too-familiar feeling starts to build up inside your loins. Your legs shake. Your breathing grows erratic. Your cock pulses in the anticipation of cumming all over the floor of the classroom.

Barely holding it together, you whine, “Daddy, I’m gonna–I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum, my little cocksleeve. Cum all over my cock for daddy,” Ryujin growls, yanking your head back by the hair harshly. Your mouth opens wide. The pain spurs you on, as the walls of your ass contract around her pretend dick. The feeling is culminating in your loins. You’re gonna cum all over the classroom floor.

“Daddy, ah!”

You scream from the depths of your lungs as the sound reverberates through the room. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of cum onto the classroom floor and the teacher’s table, painting the surface beneath white with semen. Ryujin continues to attack your bruised prostate through your orgasm, making sure to milk you for all you’re worth.

Slowly, your orgasm dies down under her. Your cock twitches pathetically—used, abused, spent. Ryujin drags her cock out of your now-gaped asshole, before unbuckling and letting the strap fall onto the floor.

“Clean this up, fucking cockwhore,” Ryujin commands, as you slowly try to pick up yourself from the mess you two have made. Your leg struggles slightly, before you are able to stand up straight again, even if how utterly spent you are persists.

“I want you at my dorm at seven, you better be there,” Ryujin gives another order, her voice cold, before walking away, leaving you used, abused, alone.

—

[red5tars]

surroghoap pt.2

prev I next

cw: none

this was a bad idea.

it was all you could think about. on the drive there, when you pulled into the driveway of their nice secluded home, even sitting on the couch next to the mastiff who exhales more spit than air.

earlier, you pulled on your nicest casual dress, a long green number that was shapeless modest. you wanted to appear like someone who had their shit together, not an on-the-way-drop-out who got pregnant after some nameless fling.

the dog slobbering all over the fabric dampens your image.

“aye! git off th' couch ya wet beast!” the scot, johnny, snaps at the dog, his finger pointing towards the hallway. an echoing bark escapes the mastiff's mouth, but johnny doesn't loosen up, a low growl leaving his lips. the display of dominance takes you by surprise, but the dog seems used to it, slinking off the couch and retreating elsewhere.

as he does, johnny turns to face you with an apologetics smile on his face, “sorry, we dinnae git many guests, ‘specially fresh ones,” his word choice makes you squirm, the imagery of a red marbled slab flashing through your head.

“no worries,” you reassure, discomfort pushed to the deepest depths, “not the first time i was stained with dog spit,” regret fills you immediately as the words leave your mouth. to think, this man welcomed you into his home and the first thing you did was make a smart comment. what a charming guest you are.

much to your relief, johnny doesn’t seem offended at all. in fact, he finds your comment amusing, the corners of his lips curling upward until the sound of the kettle screaming makes his face scrunch.

“so, th’ drive wasnae too bad?” he asks, the little gap between the kitchen in the living room obscuring him. you can tell he's moving, lifting something by the way his muscles flex under the soft lights of the kitchen.

not here to oogle, you remind yourself, fingers interlocking over your lap, "yeah, it was fine. but i have to ask," you can see his head lift, eyes still on the kettle but some of his attention on you, "why meet here? why not in the city?"

johnny hums, as if he was expecting this question. briefly, you wonder if he has a monologue, offering his explanation through the phrasings of a sonnet.

"nae to keen 'bout loud 'n' crowded places," he states simply, lifting something and beginning his trek back to the living area. okay, so that isn't a totally alarming response.. but still rings a few bells.

"oh.. care to elaborate?" it's not that you want to press him, there's just.. a need too. there's not enough benefit to suade your doubt. he stands before you now, hinged at the hips to set down the a tray. three little mugs filled with what you assume is tea. steam snakes its way up from the cups, only to fade a few centimeters out.

"well.." his voice drops with his weight, settling into one of the comfy chairs before you. it succumbs to his mass quickly, once again showing off his impressive size, "best if ah show ye," and before you can ask show me what? he turns his head to the side, running his fingers through an overgrown buzz. it takes a minute of searching, his fingers and lengthy mohawk in the way, but your eyes widen upon finding it.

a pink, jagged line that starts somewhere on his hairline and ends before it can reach the back of his head.

in all honesty, you're surprised you didn't notice it the first time, a testament to his good looks and a showcase of how much of an ignorant ass you can be.

"sorry i didn't mean to-" he cuts you off with the shake of his head, an understanding smile on his face. "it's a'richt, lass. in fine fettle, y'ken? jus' cannae handle the city like ah used tae," his smile turns sympathetic, but you both know that you aren't the one who needs to be pitied.

there's an itch to right this wrong. even if it doesn't affect johnny, you're own assumptions and actions will be ingrained into your head till you forget about them, then remember it in the midst of doing some mundane task. your mouth begins to part when the door suddenly opens, the mastiff suddenly appearing from the hallway, spit and its paws hitting the floor.

the beast runs past you, happily (and loudly) barking at whoever entered. you expect to see johnny wear an expression of irritation considering how he reprimanded the dog last time, but it's the opposite. there's a fondness in his eyes as he looks behind you, warmth radiating from him.

"ther' ye are, si," he says once the dog has quieted down, but his heavy pants offer some unpleasant background, "thought ah wis gonna do this by maeself."

slowly, you turn your head, finding who you presume is 'si'. if anything, he looks less like a person and more like a.. presence. despite him standing right there, you feel him better then you see him. all you can really make out are his eyes, brown like the various oak logs that barricade their home.

he doesn't say anything, looking at you and johnny through narrow slits.

eventually his gaze ends on you, almost analyzing you all the while he pets the dog's head (who presses himself cheerfully against si. huge dog needs a huge owner you suppose).

"whose 'is?" it seems his analysis didn't provide anything useful, johnny being the one to fill in the blanks with a sigh, "the surrogate, simon." you swear you can hear him tack on an exasperated 'forgetful bastard', but it could be anything.

si, well, simon, stares at you for what seems like an eternity before speaking again, "i see," it's like locking eyes with medusa, his gaze turning you nearly statue-esque in your seat.

"well," simon finally lifts his gaze on you and a weight lifts off your shoulders till it's dropped again when he says, "best start then."

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @cuips-not-cute! cuips_not_cute has six fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @cuips-not-cute:

he could be brave

blood is an aphrodisiac

honeyed affection

blinking red light

cyclical

"cuips is a master of taking the reader on an emotional roller coaster ride. The amount of times I've laughed and cried at the same time reading his fics have been too numerous to count. Especially the depth of the sex scenes and the character beats and growth they portray are gorgeous to read - and also very titillating. I love Steve and Eddie in every one of cuips stories, adore the little mannerisms they are given and the way they interact with each other and other characters. Besides the inspiring prose cuips can pull off a plot like few other people I've found so far - since blinking red light is still ongoing, I'll just point to cyclical for that. I'm very thankful to cuips for writing and posting these stories and for being a very active part of this lovely fandom." -- anonymous

Below the cut, @cuips-not-cute answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

i don’t even know. i was happily in the ofmd fandom when i watched season 4 almost three years ago now (oh god) and then the characters… they got me. i fear they’ll never leave.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

god, so many. they’re all kinda the same flavor though so i’ll list out what i’m always filtering for to find a new fic: bottom/sub eddie, creature/monster eddie, post s4, canon compliant, soft dom steve, sex pollen, spit kink, rimming (perhaps my FAVORITE ever thing to read), switch eddie/switch steve… the list goes on.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

probably also rimming. there’s just something so romantic about eating ass. and i really love to stick with post s4 canon compliant aus, too, i don’t think i’ve written an actual for real au yet, though i do have an idea for one after brl.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

i don’t know if i can pick!! my ao3 bookmarks host my many all-time faves, but if you wanna go by the fic i’ve reread the most it’s probably the affliction of the feeling. it’s so fucking good.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

YES!!! i have never written omegaverse!!! which is crazy, ‘cause i like it a LOT. i have a post-s4 omegaverse au kicking around in my head currently, and i cannot wait to sink my teeth into all the messy biology and politics that come with the omegaverse.

What is your writing process like?

chaotic, in a word. usually, i’ll get a fic idea while i’m balls-deep in writing another fic so i’ll shove it to the side and let it simmer while i finish that first one, then i’ll spend a good long while planning it out in ridiculous detail, and THEN i’ll start actually drafting. i like to have a fully fleshed out outline and a couple chapters written and edited before i start posting, and once posting begins i tend to deviate quite a bit from my outline but it’s all good fun.

Do you have any writing quirks?

definitely. i don’t like pointing them out for fear of other folks seeing them in everything i do, but they’re there. one that i don’t mind so much is my absolute abuse of the word “little.” everything is “a little” of this, “a little” of that, but i try to cut my usage down significantly while i’m editing.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

i always TRY to keep a schedule but… yeah. it never works. i’m far too busy for one, but attempts are made. i’d like to one day write a fic in full before posting it, because i think it’d be a whole lot better if i let it sit for that long but lord, i sure do like getting ao3 comments on every chapter. they make the writing motivation go WAY up.

Which fic are you most proud of?

brl, definitely. that fucker is LONG and i’m barely halfway through it. i think i’ve done a lot of cool things with it and i’m going to do some more cool things and i’ve made a lot of really awesome friends in the process of writing it so it’s got some pretty insane sentimental value to me. it’s definitely going to be a fic i’ll miss writing once i finish it, but that’s what the epilogue series is for!!!

How did you get the idea for blinking red light?

from another fic!!! @racketghost is the author of one of my favorite things i’ve ever read, which is the good omens zach and miri au, closed set (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320960/chapters/55862155 <- hyperlinked), wherein crowley has been lying about the existence of some angelic sex tapes to all of hell, and then he and aziraphale have to actually make the tapes. it’s awesome. it’s gorgeous. brl is one big giant love letter to this fic, because it means so fucking much to me and i think about it ALL the time. 

When writing honeyed affection, what was something you didn’t expect?

hmm, i don’t know? ha is, i think, a pretty easygoing fic with lots and lots of porn stuffed inside it, and that was all i intended it to be so i cannot think of anything i was surprised by!!

What inspired blood is an aphrodisiac?

i just wanted to write vampire eddie. it was july ‘22, kas theories were everywhere, i had to try it. these days i think i would change a LOT about it because my ideas and hcs surrounding the characters have evolved significantly, but i’ll write vampire eddie again and “fix” everything i no longer like about biaa.

What was your favorite part to write from he could be brave?

…the fisting. i genuinely think some of my best writing is in that scene, and while i feel the same way about this fic as i do biaa, the fisting scene will always hold a special place in my heart. i’m very, very excited to write the fisting chapter in brl because of this scene. fisting rules.

How do/did you feel writing cyclical?

i wrote cyclical during a very weird few months of my life, so writing it was sort of my way of dealing with all the insane shit going on around me, and i think it shows. in a good way, though, because cyclical is a timeloop fic so it needed to be a little angsty and insane. i’m stupidly proud of that fic. @ryeallytired actually BOUND it into a PHYSICAL BOOK and SENT IT TO ME and when i tell you that is the singular most precious object i own, i mean it.

What was the most difficult part of writing blinking red light?

PLOTTING THAT BITCH. GOD. i’m so happy to be actually WRITING it now, the planning was genuinely so brutal. my issue was that i was sticking too close to the plot of closed set (<3) which just… did not work for steddie. closed set’s premise centers around crowley lying about making sex tapes, yes, but he lied about them to PROTECT aziraphale, which is the messiest, kindest, riskiest fucking thing ever. and it’s awesome. in the early planning stages of brl, i was trying to put eddie in the crowley role of lying about having made sex tapes with steve, but it reallyyy didn’t work. there was an oc and i absolutely hated him, plus i didn’t like what that premise was doing to eddie’s character… ugh. it was a MESS. it took several rubber duck-ing conversations with my brilliant friend @lollaika and a rewatch of zach and miri to finally realize that it had to be STEVE who brings up the idea of sex tapes so that he could protect eddie, rather than eddie bringing it up to save his own hide (yikes).

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

oooh, lots. reallyyyy loved chapter 8 of cyclical with all of the pov shifts, that was super fun to write. i also really enjoyed writing the dry humping/sex tape convo in the first chapter of brl, and i’m stupidly excited to write chapters 12, 13, 15, and 17, because of specific scenes that will happen in each.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

i do!! after brl is completed i’ll have to choose from two story ideas (because i cannot have two wips at once or i’ll get SO stressed), one being a semi-realistic steddie cowboy au based off my own experiences with growing up on a farm and featuring messy, earnest cowboys and not-fully-human eddie, and the other being the omegaverse au i want to write, which will have a very fun mix of vampire eddie, dubcon bitching, and accidental mating bites!!!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

i cannot think of anything!! this was super fun :D

Thank you to our author, @cuips-not-cute, and our anonymous nominator! See more of cuips_not_cute's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[valentine-cafe]

could I possibly get a sub!top (male) reader w/alessio arias? something with him riding reader?

👉👈

. ˚◞♡ 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒙 𝒃𝒕𝒕𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 781 alessio / bttm male reader ꒱ he loves making you desperate for him - even if it means riding your lap until you're whining and spluttering 

𖹭. content warnings��  explicit content . penetrative sex . riding . dirty talk . 0.5k

𖹭. receipts◞  hope I got this right! was a little confused ah

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

“feel s’good baby. s’fucking good.”

a groan leaves the depths of his throat. hips rocking into yours in a way that makes you dizzy. fingers clawing at the black leather of his sofa that you lean back against. the material sticking to your back from sweat.

your line of vision finds his face. the small furrow in his brows and the way his dark lips part makes your tummy twist. the epitome of beauty, is what you thought your boyfriend to be.

it doesn’t take long before your gaze falls to your joined flesh. the way his ass so perfectly takes your dick. how he squeezes orgasm after orgasm. he must like the feel of being filled up with your seed.

the mere thought has you panting.

“you feeling good too hermoso?” his breath fans your face. strong forearms leaning against your shoulders as he leans down. the mess that is his dark hair tickling your skin. the burning pleasure swelling around your tip sated by the balm of his kisses.

“m-. . . mhhm.” your nod is greeted by a twist of your nipple when his fingers reach down. a rough kiss pressed to your lips with a few shallow bucks of his hips against yours.

“use your words baby.”

“y-yes - yes you feel s-so good.”

the whimper sprouts pride through him. motivated his movements so that he’s bouncing on your dick so feverishly. the wet sounds and blissful tightness has your head hanging back and tears welled up in your eyes.

you can’t help it. you have to touch him. needy hands reaching out and fingers curling into his hips.

“hey.” the click of his tongue has you shaking.

“p-please - please let me touch you - alessio. . . a-alessiiiooo hngh. . .”

the chuckle that leaves his throat shoots right to your cock. it doesn’t take long before you’re twitching and cumming again. drawing a ragged groan from his lips right after his little laugh.

“f-fuck. yeah that’s it. well since you ask so nicely.”

the ability to touch him feels like heaven. so you do yourself another favour and bury your nose into his shoulder. inhaling his scent as your arms loop around his body. hips bucking needily into his. synching with the way he expertly rides you.

you aren’t sure how may times he has milked your poor dick. only that you’re a babbling mess by the time he lifts his ass off of you with a small pop.

still, you whine. even with all your drool and tears.

“n-no nooo baby come back - come back please-”

you’re cut off by the rough feeling of his hands cupping your face and his silencing lips. the piercing of his tongue rubbing against yours when he shoves it into your mouth. stealing your air all over again.

“sshh. turn over,” alessio groans into your lips. reaching down to stroke at your throbbing dick. “wanna fuck that cute lil’ ass. can I?”

anything to feel him in whatever way you possibly can. of course you roll over to your tummy and have his large cock pound you senseless until you’re both gasping for air.

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[elliesglock]

Break down your thoughts on the Amari live

i'll try to make this as in depth as possible. sorry for how long it is. tough read i know...

the thing that really sticks out to me in this live is how everyone around them is acting around them. in what i believe is their time line, this would've been before they started dating officially but they're most likely exclusive. i think everybody kinda knows they're gonna end up together but they're still keeping it on the dl.

first of all paige's extra ass was annoying the FUCK outta my poor girl azzi the whole time. azzi keeps getting onto her and p seems so emo about it. shes like bae u said you liked my crazy, ipad kids ass side 🙁 i think just that's a cute little takeaway i had from the live 😭

this live makes me miss amari so much cause she has as much media training and ability to keep a secret as ice or even pazzi themselves...she had pazzi on LOCK in the corner of her eye the whole time.

the famous, "paige someone is gonna take u to breakfast." and azzi responds "no they're not" under her breath. BEAUTIFUL! PERFECT! AMAZING JOB AZZI! 10 points im so proud of you thank u god for giving us this moment. first of all, i can practically hear the pout on azzi's face. everyone kinda giggles at her being jealous cause im sure its not often azzi doesn't really seem like that cause she know p's LOCKED. i bet ms i love my girlfriend please leave me alone bueckers is just eating it up but also so quick to love on her girl and tell her she'll take her to breakfast. i hate them so bad i cant even finish this they make me SOOOOOOOB.

next big thing in the live, also one of my favorite parts. everybody's just kinda sitting around minding their business talking about lebron. p off doing her weird i pad kid yelling and cheering. amari reads some comments and at first shes talking about a comment in regards to her being single and asking if she has a bf. THENNNN it really seems like a slip from her but she says "yeah someone said i have a bf and paige has a gf." eeyupppp and for the rest of my life after this i needed to be in a padded room. CAUSE THE SILENCE??? THE WAY P IS COMPLETELY SILENT NOT EVEN MOVING. most telling thing ive ever seen. also ines trying to save it with her shaky ass voice saying "whattttt?? paige doesn't have a gf 😀😀😀" nezzy baby.....you tried i'll give u that. and then everyone is just looking at every surface in that room besides pazzi. he's right behind me isn't heeeee type shit. then amari kinda realizes and awkwardly moves on. so very telling. like everyone's reactions are so weird if pazzi are just friends. and yes you could make an argument they reacted like that cause people were insinuating p's gay but like....let's really be adults and think about this. p would not give a fuck, they would be laughing. BUT NO pazzi nation! pazzi knows she has a gf or a girl who's close to being her gf and everyone in the room does too. case closed.

final thing and second, honorable mention. the way p and a start playing on the bed in that one part feels soooooo....wooo tension. i think everybody feels it too cause ice looks and then gives amari a look and she covers them. from what i can see it looks like p is bent over azzi and a's laying down looking up at her. it looks like paige wants to touch her face or fix her hair or sum. that's just what it looks like to me. debate me if you want. i hate when gay people gay. i fear it's sooooo over for paige atp 💔 she's never making it out that azzi hypnosis. i've been there too its a maze ngl.im still there.

while this isn't one of my most favorite pazzi lives it's very significant and i did enjoy rewatching it cause amari is literally so funny. the biggest thing about this which also makes me emotional is u can see them starting to be comfortable with affection and also just loving on each other. they will never be anyone like p and a again. their love heals souls 💔💔💔💔

[gilverrwrites]

⛓️+🔪+🎤 for Scarecrow and Firefly?

Whhhhhoooie, had to reach into the depths of my brain and dust off some old ass braincells for these.  

Scarecrow

⛓️ kinky headcanon

Any and all kinks explored between the two of you are rarely for sexual gratification, at least on Jon’s end, so much as it’s for the pursuit of knowledge. It’s experimentation. You’re more lab rat than lover. Although he can’t deny the instinctive and fundamentally human thrill of arousal that grips him as he watches how you react to whatever stimuli he’s doling out.

The feverish, trembling skin, increased heart rate, dilated pupils, all of it, right down to the rapid breathing, it’s so hard to tell with you where lust ends and fear begins, and he is so utterly enthralled by that.

🔪 dangerous headcanon

There’s a lot of dangerous things Jon could and would do to you. Literally, your greatest fears realised, physically and/or mentally, but I wanna talk about something moderately vanilla as far as dangerous kinks go, because I think about it every time I see this man:

He likes wrapping that noose around your neck and pulling it painfully taut whenever you're on the brink of cumming. Or using it as a leash when you're on your knees and taking it from behind. Or really squeezing that throat closed when his cock is already at the back of it.

He doesn't stop when your face is swollen and discoloured. Doesn't stop when you're wracked with tears, nails scratching at your neck as you try to get your fingers under the rope.

You're so endearing; lightheaded and trembling with fear as you lose consciousness. Tight walls still fluttering around him.

🎤 how loud they are

Not loud at all honestly. Jon speaks in very calm, near-hushed tones, even in the bedroom. The things he says could barely be considered dirty talk most of the time.

Although there is something highly appealing to a fear kink when he’s intentionally trying to put you on edge; asking if you’ll still enjoy the touch of his fingers on your sex if he were to do something terrible to it. To lock it up or cut it off or introduce it to some electro therapy. Which do you think you'd hate most?

Beyond that, anything out of his mouth is simply observational, sometimes comments of awed. “You're actually quite cute like this.” y’know?

Firefly

⛓️ kinky headcanon

Aesthetic level corruption kink. He's not ashamed of his burnt and twisted skin, in fact he gets such a kick out of seeing them threaded into the soft, pearly cotten of your outfit, dirtying you up as he leaves soot in the wake of his roaming palms. He likes to sully your soft little mouth with his long, grimey fingers. How does his smoke-steeped skin taste on your tongue?

🔪 dangerous headcanon

You're probably expecting something about fire but Garfield is a pyromaniac, not a pyrophile. He finds beauty in flames and destruction but there's no erotic element to it for him.

That being said: fire.

Just not in the way you might think. Gar likes to show off for you, and he personally thinks it's sick as hell that 90% of his skin is so scarred and damaged from burn injuries that he's almost resistant to it.

Like how people with calloused hands can hold their fingertips in an open flame for longer than others before it starts to burn.

Like that, but instead of dancing his fingers over candle wicks, he’ll press lit matches straight onto his chest or his arm in the hopes it’ll impress you. It's already dangerous enough before he convinces you to try it, to light a match and roll it over whatever part of his body you like. You're just bound to accidentally stumble upon part of the 10% that will cause him immediate harm.

🎤 how loud they are

He's loud, and though every word out of his mouth sounds like it has to hurt his burned up voice box, he's very talkative. It's cheesy stuff though, obnoxious almost if you're not into it. Exaggerated “WOOOOOOO, yeah. That's the spot!” when he bottoms out inside of you.

“Oh fuck yeah baby, ride that shit.” So loud that you're sure he can be heard by anyone within a mile radius.

[endopropaganda]

hi i just noticed ur dni said lesboys? im pretty sure lesboys are just lesbians who act sorta masculine (like... tomboys ig? but lesbian) is there like a problem with that?

or at least thats what i was told but don't quote me on that im js. Confused

I'm going to just straight up come out and say this.

We have explained it twice here

This post and this post

But on our main? I went into depth on the actual reason why. So I might as well say it here. As well as say some things I've wanted to say for a good long while while I'm still in my identity delusions

I was assaulted by actual men who identified as lesboys. More than once. So no, its not lesbians who act masculine. Its men claiming to have the same "gay attraction" to non men that actual lesbians have. I came out about it previously on our main but not here. Because I didn't want my trauma to get in the way of our job on this profile. But considering that this account is currently being abandoned for our mental health (which apparently people can't read or something idk)

I dont like men. I likely will never be fully comfortable around men the way I used to be ever again. I am a lesbian largely from trauma and I'm ok with that. What I'm not ok with is my own sexuality being used by the very men its meant to keep me away from. My identity as a lesbian is as much my identity as it is a safety net. And because of the absolute bullshit that the "lesboy" label has thrown me into for ever daring to trust it. Well, I'm not letting it within my net anymore. If you dont like it just leave us the fuck alone because I'd rather not have my hand forced into talking about my trauma for the 100th time.

And for any lesboys who want to comment on this, invalidating my trauma for the 20th time. I dont care anymore. I can't care anymore. With every comment you send I just feel worse and fucking worse about the fact that I have painful ass memories your community caused. You act like your label couldn't POSSIBLY harm anyone yet here the fuck I am. Someone who has been irreversibly damaged by your label. Dont tell me to "deal with it", don't tell me "not all of us are like that", it's not going to reach me. I gave it so many chances. I give lots of things chances. I can't do that anymore. I cant do THIS anymore. Hell I hardly want to interact with new people anymore.

"Why should we care what someone identifies as? As long as they are happy and think the label fits" yeah have fun with that flawed argument when it gets used by Radqueers and Pedophiles who want to join the lgbt, you know it can, right? Or have you not seen the horrors of that community firsthand? If you don't see how it can be used, here's a lovely example; "why should we care if someone identifies as a MAP, as long as they are happy and the label fits them, it's fine, right?". And it's not like nobody's used that argument. I've seen it everywhere. I shouldn't have to worry about anyone's opinions on my dni. I shouldn't need to explain my trauma for every person questioning why my dni is there. I'm the one that put it there. I'm the one your community hurt so bad I needed a dni to keep myself safe. Have fun with that knowledge. I'm done here.

-Magenta (Victim)

[devils-dares]

The Key You Wear

summary: you get a voicemail from your ex, who is very much not well. you visit him the next day to make sure all is well (spoiler alert: it's not)

pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

warnings: angst, blood, injuries, depressive episode, mentions of a breakup, crying, kissing

wordcount: 1864

a/n: i vote we start a "dev needs a hug" campaign because the way life has shitted on me recently is preposterous, lmk if there's any errors, i'm still sleep deprived and also it was like 2am when i finished this

-----

Exhaustion had a way of creeping into the depths of your body, and finding a home within the ache of your bones. Matt and exhaustion were long time acquaintances, with the mental portion setting in throughout his day job and the physical aspect at night.

He slipped up. Majorly. He didn’t notice the fourth guy, not until he was already overpowered by the first three, and he had, to put it lightly, been beaten to a pulp. He could count about four broken ribs and a fractured wrist, among a concussion and a few other things.

He didn’t go out tonight, he hasn’t gone out for a few nights, his apartment is a mess of take-out boxes and empty gauze wrappers. There’s empty beer bottles placed on his coffee table, another open one in his hand.

He’s tired, so tired. The minutes are bleeding together from the perpetual state of intoxication he’s allowed himself, and he hasn’t shown up to work in three days, which he brushed off as healing and meditation time.

Matt’s phone dangles between his fingers, his hand hanging off the couch just over where the most recent pile-up of containers are. He thinks, searches his mind for what went wrong. Clearly he’s drunk, because his mind wanders to you. It’s three in the morning, and he finds himself sitting up on his couch and crying because you’re not here.

It was his fault, just like everything else, he thinks. You’d asked him just for a few days off of the night shift, and he disagreed, raising his voice at you. It wasn’t until you walked in on him in a state quite close to this one where you realized it was out of your control, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

That was a year ago, when you’d emptied out the drawer in his dresser he’d reserved for you and walked out. The dresser was still empty, he remembers, as deft fingers scroll through his phone, pausing when the voice-to-text reads your name.

He shouldn’t have done it. He really shouldn’t have, but he clicks the call button before his mind can catch up with his actions, and his heart sinks a little when you don’t pick up. Then again, it’s three in the morning on a Friday night, you weren’t going to pick up anyways. He leaves a half-assed voicemail, slurring voice mixing with tears as he tells you exactly what he thinks, and he’s sure his sober self would slap him silly if he could hear how pathetic the message sounded.

He shut the phone off and chugged the rest of his drink. He turned over, groaning out when he lay directly on a few fractured ribs, and he doesn’t remember anything after that.

-----

When he wakes, the smell of fresh air greets him. There’s no longer a stench of days old food, or the collection of empty bottles on his coffee table. He can hear movement in the kitchen, quiet humming. There’s a certain scent in the air from whatever’s cooking, and he sits up slowly, praying he isn’t imagining you right now.

You look over and see Matt’s head peek over the back of the couch, his hand braced on his side. Grabbing a glass of water and some painkillers, you make your way over to him.

“Take these, it’ll help with the inflammation too.” You say, and he takes them gratefully. After taking a sip of water and allowing the throbbing in his head to grow to its peak, he finally speaks.

“You’re here.” He says, dumb comment, but he meant to phrase it like a question.

“Yeah, I heard your message this morning. Sounded serious, so I thought I’d stop by.”

“And you’re still here because…?” You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

“As much as we might be over, I still care for you, Matt. And I couldn’t stand to see you like that. Speaking of, you need a shower.” He nods.

“What time is it?” He asks as he rises to his feet.

“One in the afternoon. I did your laundry, by the way, clean clothes are put away.”

Matt’s floored. Not because he’s confused on why you bothered to come or still care, but you cleaned up for him, you’re taking care of him and he doesn’t know what to do or how to cope other than to get that fluttering in his stomach again.

“I’ll- I’m gonna go shower, thanks for doing the laundry.” He walks away as quick as he can, admittedly not that fast, so he doesn’t hear your response.

You hear the shower start, and it’s almost automatic that the tears flood your eyes. God, you love him, you still do. It hurt you immensely to see Matt down in the dumps, not a care in the world about himself or his life. You wish you could shake him out of this trance, wrap him up in a hug and not let go until you get the man you fell in love with back. You gave yourself this break, let your tears flow knowing that Matt would probably smell the salt in the air as soon as he got out.

He’d forgotten what panic he felt whenever he sensed your tears. It’d been so long, and the last time you’d cried he was the cause. He rubbed out the water from his hair with a towel as quickly as he could after throwing his clothes on, and he threw the bathroom door open to find you sniffling and scrubbing relentlessly at the kitchen counters.

Matt walks over to you, taking the dishcloth out of your hands. You glance up at him, he looks so much fresher and so much like your Matt that you’re thrown for a second. He’d trimmed his beard to its usual stubbly length, and the dried blood on his face was gone.

“Why were you crying?” He asks, and his voice is impossibly soft coupled with the hand that comes up to cup your cheek makes tears burn at your eyes again.

“Just been a while, missed you a little.” He hums.

“Would it be okay if I asked for a hug?” You nod at his request, and he pulls you into his arms just before the first tear rolls down your cheek. You ball his shirt up in your fists, and you’re very aware of how embarrassing the situation is, crying in your ex’s arms. His hands rub your back, and you aren’t sure how long he holds you until you separate, but the ache in your chest makes it very clear that you wish he held on for just a little longer.

“Thank you for coming.” Matt says, his hand resting on your bicep and you’re sure he can feel the absurd amount of heat that just flushed you.

“It’s nothing.”

“It is, you had no reason to come back here, not after… not after how I treated you.”

“It was a year ago. We’re both adults, Matt, and you’ve already apologized.” He hums his agreement.

“How’d you get in, by the way?” The question causes a blush to flush your face, and Matt’s interest in the answer increases tenfold.

“Do you remember when we had that conversation about moving in? I really wanted to but my lease wasn’t up yet so you gave me a key to your place anyways? The night I left, I forgot to leave it here, and then I just didn’t have the heart to return it.” You fish your necklace out from underneath your shirt, his key dangling from it.

His heart breaks into a million pieces, and his only solace is the fact that you kept it. He remembered both of those events like it was yesterday. You couldn’t stop smiling when he gave you the key, and he rubbed at the back of his neck, unsure of what to do until you threw your arms around him and tugged him into you for a kiss. He’d never had a relationship that made him yearn for the future until you.

“I guess I can leave it here today, yeah?” You say with a laugh, but your voice is deeply rooted in sadness, and Matt knows that if you leave without that hunk of metal with you, it closes the door on whatever past and future sits in the thick tension between the two of you.

“You should keep it, for emergencies, you know.”

“For emergencies?” You laugh, looking confused.

“Yeah! Anything happens, pipe bursts or you need a beer or whatever,” he’s rambling, turning red, and you can’t help but get the same flutters he was feeling earlier unbeknownst to you, “you can always come here.”

“That’s what I have friends for, Matthew.” You sass back.

“They don’t have shitty beer.”

“Neither do you, seeing as you drank yourself out of your stock.” Your hand slaps over your mouth.

“I’m sorry, that was so mean.” But Matt’s already shaking in silent laughter.

“Yeah, it was mean. Well deserved, but definitely mean.” He smiles down at you, a full grin, and you take a few moments to appreciate how happy he looks, his developing crow’s feet making you unbelievably happy that he’s getting laugh lines.

“I missed you too, you know.” He takes a step forward, bringing both of his hands to rest on your body.

“How much?”

“My life fell apart.”

“That was happening with me here anyways.” His smile falls, and you wince at your quick quip comeback.

“Ouch.” He says, withdrawing his hands.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No, it’s the truth. It’s okay.”

“Matty,” his breath hitches when the nickname slips from your mouth, “you’re a good person, and sometimes humans are complicated and we get angry about things we’re passionate about. Look, that night, it was a year ago, and I’m ready to move past it if you are.”

“I’m not ready to move past you.” You’re pretty sure you stop breathing for a few seconds.

“Matthew-”

“Just listen to me for a minute, okay? There hasn’t been anyone after you, and there won’t be. You are the one I want to spend my life with, and it’s okay that you don’t want to. I just need you to know where my head is at.”

“Are you done?” You ask, he nods, and suddenly he’s gasping as the collar of his shirt is yanked in a tight grip and- oh. Your lips are on his and his hands are on your hips and your hands are in his hair and he’s been dreaming about this moment since the day you left. He pulls you close, your body flush with his, and he tries his best to convey all his emotions into this one kiss.

You pull away first, chest heaving for air, and the smile on your face matches that of the one on Matt’s.

“Well, that was something.” You say.

“That it was.” That’s all he says before kissing you again.

The talks about the future and the complications this causes can happen later, but for now you’ve got Matt back in more ways than one, and he’s never letting you go again.

[tellyouily]

blankets over my barbed wire

dnf - 1.8k words

hey guys i wrote a thing :) dnf have an argument but they become friends again i promise and they also hug and kiss

-

George is in the middle of skimming through the insanely complex block of commands that is the Fusion code when an unnecessarily loud knock at his office door snaps him out of his focus.

Sapnap. Irritation brews in him, but he turns in his chair anyway, pulling one AirPod out to pause his music.

“What?” George snaps, not bothering to sound more patient than he is.

Idiotnap pokes his head in. His eyebrows are raised in expectation. “Are you done being a bitch?”

It takes a second for the question to register, and when it does, George puts his headphone back in and turns to his monitors.

Sometimes, it’s hard to believe how easily Sapnap can get under his skin with just a few words. What’s even more annoying, is that Sapnap is mixing himself into this at all. This—George and Dream’s… conversation.

Their conversation that George blew way out of proportion.

“No.”

Sapnap scoffs loudly enough to reach the desk, and although George has paused his music to hear him, he refuses to give him any attention right now.

“Come on bro. How are you acting like this isn’t your fault?”

“I’m not done,” George repeats, pointedly ignoring the comment. What does Sapnap know about this anyway? He has some sixth sense for sussing out tension between Dream and George, and it has never been useful to either of them.

There’s a pause that goes on just long enough for George to glance at the door again to see if Sapnap has left, which—he hasn’t. George rolls his eyes and turns back, unpausing his music.

Sapnap sighs again and taps the doorframe. “Alright, fine. Be a bitch, I don’t care. I’m going out with Ken to get tacos.”

“Have fun.”

“I will.”

This is when Sapnap should turn to leave, but George can sense that he’s still there. He can never take George’s dismissive answer for an answer, intent on getting things out in the open instead. In his peripheral vision, George can just about make out Sapnap throwing his head back in exasperation.

“Dream is downstairs,” he says begrudgingly.

George rolls his eyes internally; he should have guessed that Sapnap would try to play peacemaker. He continues to press space and backshift repeatedly on his keyboard to seem busy.

Sapnap goes on, “So please, just talk to him. Or don’t. Whatever, I’m done dealing with your dysfunctional ass relationship. Just—go talk to him.”

With that, he finally goes to shut the door, but not before getting in one last word. “Pussy.”

As soon as he’s gone, George pulls his other AirPod out and lets his head fall back against the headrest. It’s a mess. Again.

And Sapnap was right, it is George’s fault—again.

It’s not that he and Dream never argue. Part of their chemistry is thanks to their mutual ability to take a joke and knowing exactly what to say to rile each other up. It’s what they do; they pick fights and come up with intentionally bad takes just to spark a debate.

They like arguing. It’s fun, and it’s easy, just like everything else when it comes to them.

And it’s not like that aspect of their friendship changed when they got… together. George doesn’t even know if that’s what they’re calling it—does Dream tell people they’re together? What if—no, it doesn’t matter.

George shakes his head to stop the thought from spiraling.

The point is that nothing really changed after they became more than friends. Their dynamic has stayed the same, just with an added depth that George can’t describe. He supposes they’re in love. Or something.

But this conversation, last night, wasn’t an argument. They were just talking normally until George decided to say the entirely wrong thing. And maybe it hurt a little extra because of this ‘added depth’.

He regretted picking the fight as soon as the words passed his lips. It was late and they were both tired and Dream was at his desk working on the code George has been staring at all morning.

(His poor attempt at doing something to help; at saying sorry without having to say it.)

Dream had seemed preoccupied and George had asked him what was on his mind. And Dream had been honest, as he always is.

“I’ve just been thinking about you and me and Youtube, and the hurricane, and… I don’t know. I guess I’ve been overwhelmed, a little bit. I want you to be happy here. But I keep reminding myself that we need each other, and that we finally get to have that—”

“Well,” George had butted in, without thinking. “I don’t need you.”

Dream had blinked. “Okay. Well, I need you.”

It was such a tender and typically-Dream thing to confess, and George has no idea what came over him to follow it up with what he did.

As a rule, they don’t talk much about London.

He thinks Dream avoids it mostly as a courtesy to George, which he appreciates, but for George, his old home seems lightyears away and he would rather keep that way. He loves Florida more each day, and he loves Dream even more each day, and those are two things he knows for certain.

So he doesn’t understand what came over him when he somehow ended up saying the complete opposite.

“Well, that’s just you, then. I could move back to London right now and be fine on my own.”

He cringes at the recent memory, and feels something tighten uncomfortably around his heart when he recalls the look that the words had put on Dream’s face.

“Okay, George,” he had said when the initial surprise had faded. Then, devastatingly, “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He had left the room without another word, his arm brushing against George’s in the doorway, and George had just stood there like an idiot.

It had been such a stupid thing to say. So stupid.

He doesn’t even know where it came from—there has never been a time where he meant those words.

Yes, I need you, would have been the only honest response. That, and, I don’t ever want to go back there.

He thinks the only person who can possibly annoy him more than Sapnap, is himself. And he knows helping Dream with the Fusion code isn’t going to cut it for an apology.

. . .

Downstairs, the midday sun is pouring in through the big windows. Up in his dark office, George had almost forgotten that it was daytime.

He finds Dream in the first place he looks; in the living room on the couch with his laptop perched on his lap. He’s clearly in the middle of something, probably typing up some email or other, and George finds himself hesitating by the kitchen island.

It’s dumb that he’s nervous, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is. What is he supposed to say? Sorry? I’m an idiot, please forgive me? No, they know each other too well for that—Dream knows him too well for that.

Luckily for him, it’s Dream who breaks the silence.

“Hey,” his voice makes George’s head snap up.

“Hi,” he blurts out in response. “I…” he swallows, and Dream raises his eyebrows.

George sighs and starts walking towards him. “I’m sorry,” he manages to say. “For yesterday.”

He stops at the foot of the couch, burning hot under Dream’s expectant gaze. He wouldn’t blame Dream for wanting George to suffer a little, watching him fumble with his words.

To his surprise, Dream’s lips curve into a smile. He lifts one hand to rub at the back of his neck, stretching from sitting for a while. “Okay,” he says simply.

George blinks. “Okay?”

Dream shrugs. “I believe you.”

The smile on his face lifts some of the pressure off George’s heart, even if he knows he still has a lot to make up for.

He suppresses the urge to mirror it—he needs Dream to know that he means it. “It’s not funny. I’m apologizing. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Dream says with a laugh, crossing one ankle over the other. “I hear you.”

He doesn’t seem as upset as George thinks he has a right to be. But George doesn’t know why he’s surprised—Dream has always been the more easygoing out of the two of them. He’s not one to hold a grudge, especially not with George.

He tries not to sound too hopeful when he asks, “Do you forgive me?”

There’s a pause before Dream slides his laptop aside and gets up. George watches him closely as he closes the short distance between them, and he is not too proud to melt into the hug Dream wraps him in. Even though it’s a hug that he definitely doesn’t deserve right now.

“I really am sorry,” he mumbles into the safety of Dream’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean what I said. About London. I don’t know why I said it at all.”

Dream rubs his back. His voice is soft when he asks, “You don’t want to go back?”

“No,” George squeezes his eyes shut. “I definitely don’t.”

A warm hand snakes its way under his hoodie. George pulls back to look Dream in the eye. “I’m sorry I made you think I did.”

Dream nods, his whole expression soft.

“It’s okay,” he says, and George thinks he means it. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I didn’t really think you did.”

“Good. ‘Cause I didn’t.”

“Thank you for apologizing,” Dream says, and George can’t help but shake his head at the sincerity of it. Trust Dream to thank him for doing the bare minimum.

“Of course I’m apologizing,” he counters matter-of-factly. “I was… mean.”

Dream bobs his head as if considering it. “A little. But you were tired, I could tell you were tired.”

George huffs. Trust Dream to make excuses for him even though he doesn’t deserve it.

“I do need you,” he says, because he feels a need to clarify this a thousand times over. To undo the damage he did last night. “Like you said, we need each other. And really, I think I probably need you a lot more than you need me.”

It might be one of the most terrifyingly honest things he has ever said out loud.

Dream shakes his head and opens his mouth to disagree, but George connects their lips before he can get a word out. It’s an effective strategy.

He pulls away first. “It’s true.”

“Okay,” Dream says, a little breathless. “I believe you.”

George nods once and starts to loosen his arms, but Dream keeps him in place with a hand on his lower back, pressing gently.

George blinks at him. “What?”

“I’ll believe it more if you kiss me again,” Dream says, his smile turning uncharacteristically shy.

George has never been happier to comply.

[silvers-smuttery]

Friday the 13th: Gogo's comments about her suit being tear-proof, likely wasn't meant to be tested using Hiro's cock, forcing in the fabric as he fucked her. And sadly, it would appear her boasting was premature, as Gogo realized when she felt a rush of heat spread inside her womb.

"You know... This isn't... What I had in mind... When I said to stress test this thing!!", Gogo grunted through gritted teeth as she gripped the steel workshop desk with all her punk girl might. She had to remind herself this was her boyfriend's brother, or else she would have sworn to kill, or at least main the little twerp. But the brothers were more alike than she wanted to admit. Same, enourmous cock plunging into the depths of her literal condon suit, the elastic material stretching around the foot-long phallous and holding on for dear life. Steadily, bit by bit, her grunts of protest faltered into a series of moans as her womb got wrecked. Her strength leaving her, she could only stick her ass out, upper body lowering onto her workplace, tits scraping along the cool, smooth surface as she ground her hips back.

"How are you both so biiiig~? You're still growiIIIIIING, RIGHT?", Gogo moaned out, seemingly accepting her fate as the flood gates opened, and a torrent of hot spunk filled her suit. No big issue... A bitch to clean up, hut her suit would hold... Out? Zapped of her strength by that beastly cock, Gogo could only bask in the heat of Hiro's load, her cunt swallowing up every drop, hungrily slurping up her leader's baby batter. And just the day when her pills ran out.

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Twin Suns"

In which the end of the Malachor arc is profoundly beautiful.

First off, obligatory live reaction version from 2017.

Second, I would be remiss if I did not link back to this close read of "Twin Suns" (by greenreticule here on Tumblr), from which I draw quite a bit of my own analysis and opinions about the themes and messages of the episode. Check it out sometime, there's ten parts (technically eleven but the last post in the series is more of a memoir/personal reflection by the author and therefore not as relevant to our meta purposes) and it is a loooooong read but worth it, in my opinion. I don't always agree with every single point of the analysis (the stuff about the Sequel Trilogy, for example) but there's a lot of things that resonate and that I incorporate into my own interpretation of the episode so I figured I'd mention the source.

Onwards!

Rather appropriately we open on a shot of the titular twin suns themselves.

The next series of shots are stark and empty, nothing but the vast white desert, emphasizing the loneliness and isolation of both Tatooine itself, and Maul in particular.

And he is not, ah... taking Ezra's rejection or the long wanderings out in the desert well. To say the least.

From this first opening monologue we can already tell that Maul is fraying. He spent ten years in the depths of madness and it seems like he's descending into madness once again. Even his clothing reflects this, sandblasted and torn, a ragged hood recalling the one he wore at the beginning of Malachor as he feigned being weak and decrepit, and uneven wrappings circling his arms, asymmetrically.

His mood swings from "Visions and Voices" are more pronounced, one moment warbling pitifully about being lost, about being so close to his target, the next shrieking Obi-Wan's name skyward like an obscenity.

Obi-Wan has managed to elude him all this time since Dathomir, and Maul is beginning to get desperate.

RIGHT, SO THIS IS THE PART WHERE I GET BACK INTO MY BLUBBERING KENOBI SHOW FEELINGS BECAUSE "JEDI CANNOT HELP WHAT THEY ARE. THEIR COMPASSION LEAVES A TRAIL. THE JEDI CODE IS LIKE AN ITCH. [THEY] CANNOT HELP IT." AND SOB FOREVER ABOUT HOW WHOEVER IT WAS ON THE WRITING TEAM THAT CAME UP WITH THAT RAW-ASS LINE, THEY UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT.

So not only is this a callback to the previous times Maul lured Obi-Wan out to him in TCW, this now also a call-forward to Kenobi and I just want y'all to appreciate for a moment that Maul is using the exact same tactic on two different Jedi, simultaneously.

Maul is luring Ezra and taking advantage of Ezra's compassion, hero complex, guilt complex, and sense of hyper-responsibility, in order to then exploit Obi-Wan's compassion and protector-guardian streak, so that he can kill Obi-Wan when Obi-Wan comes to Ezra's rescue.

Because that's what Jedi do, that's what Jedi are, the Jedi Code is like an itch they cannot help it--frick man, I'm already emotional and we're not even two minutes in.

A general overview of the music this episode, and I'll comment on specific cues as they happen, but I mostly want to point out the frequent lack of music, actually. This episode is very stripped down in terms of theme and instrumentation and there are long stretches of utter silence, to help us absorb the atmosphere. It's very effective in making Tatooine feel utterly desolate, like we're alone on this journey with the characters.

This episode had originally been very ambitious, we've been told from behind-the-scenes commentary, longer, more complex, a lot more plot points, but as it was coming together they very wisely pared it way down to the barebone tacks, cutting out all the excesses and stripping things down to a simple character journey narrative, making the resulting story that much more profound and intimate.

(Plus the saved budget allowed us to get some absolutely gorgeous animation and new pajamas for Ezra. XD)

He looks so comfy in them.

This sequence is heavily styled after the cold open in "Legacy", camera movement and shot choice almost exactly matching. This is not a coincidence, as the basic premise of both episodes is the same: Ezra receives a vision through the Force, and it moves him to action.

Unlike in "Legacy", however, when the Force itself was moving to comfort Ezra and connect him to the voices and images of his parents one last time before their death, this vision is artificially constructed, sent to him by Maul--like the ones in "Visions and Voices"--to deliberately manipulate him, pull him away from his support network, make him act out of fear.

A false Call To Action, in an artificial Hero's Journey narrative that Maul has constructed for Ezra to follow. (More on that later.)

Side note, completely unrelated to all this meta, but an observation I just want to point out: It's the middle of the night and Kanan is not in his room on the Ghost. Where exactly was he eh? Perhaps a certain Twi'lek pilot's room? *eyebrow waggle*

Anyway, after Ezra's Weird Force Tele-Distance Holocron Call we move to a scene that is a bit heavy in the exposition department, by virtue of it having to hold the burden of the extra plotlines they pared down. It's maybe not quite as effective as it could have been but it serves its purpose: It establishes that they identified the "desert planet with two suns" as Tatooine sometime offscreen, and that they asked about Obi-Wan and Bail Organa lied through his teeth about the man being dead. So therefore they must have decided to give the matter up, and let Maul chase ghosts in the Tatooine sands.

Rex being clearly distraught at Obi-Wan's assumed death. :(

Kanan also reminds Ezra that the last visions he got from and about Maul were a trick designed to manipulate him.

Ezra's insistent though, as he always tends to be whenever the notion of being able to obtain "the key to destroying the Sith" pops up. So Hera takes him aside for a moment.

Her face and how often she touches Ezra's arms and shoulders in this scene hurts. :( And the strain in her voice when she asserts that if Obi-Wan were alive he wouldn't be hiding in the desert, he'd be helping them, Hera understands Jedi nature too, she just hasn't gotten the full picture, doesn't know the reason why Obi-Wan is doing... well... exactly that.

This is where the story beat parallels to "Legacy" end, because this time, Ezra does not receive Hera's blessing to go. Instead she reminds him, rather sternly, that he is supposed to be there with them, planning the attack on Lothal, she needs him and his focus here.

Recall Yoda's line about Luke: "Never his mind on where he was. What he was doing." Since all the way back in Season Two, when his mere presence started to become a danger to the safety of his friends, Ezra has been growing more and more obsessed with finding a way to kill the Sith, whenever Maul turns up more distracted. It ties straight back into his motivation for becoming a Jedi in the first place that he told Yoda in "Path of the Jedi".

"I just want to protect myself and my friends. And not just them, everyone. I'll protect everyone."

Ezra has an abundance of that natural Jedi urge to protect (planted by his parents, nurtured by Hera), the itch inside him intermingles with his clingyness and attachment to his Ghost family in particular. When everything went wrong on Malachor he internalized that failure severely, and his natural Jedi compulsions went overdrive into a crippling sense of hyper-responsibility, magnified by his guilt and leading him down the same path Anakin walked--seeking more power, from dubious and deceitful sources, in order to prevent another personal tragedy from happening to him again.

His desire to protect got twisted into attachment, into a clingy possessiveness, into a fear of more potential loss. In this way his flirtations with the Dark Side mirrored Anakin's, though ultimately Ezra never went far enough that he wasn't able to come back, the disaster at Reklam and his reconciliation with Kanan enough of a kick in the head from the Force for him to be all, "NOPE, I REGRET EVERYTHING, I'M NOT DOING THAT AGAIN."

But even though Ezra came to his senses and rejected the Dark Side, he was still not on the right path. The aftereffects of Malachor remained and he kept letting that Sisyphean unattainable goal of defeating the Sith--himself, personally, or else personally enabling it to happen--pull him away. Kept letting it move him out of place in the narrative.

He was supposed to be here, Hera needed him here. "You're in the wrong place, Ezra Bridger," Obi-Wan tells him gently, later. Ezra lets Maul, lets his obsession with destroying the Sith, yank him out of order in the cosmic destiny of things.

The Force has a place for him. But it is here and not there.

But he kind of has to go on this perilous journey for it to finally kick in.

(One of the scenes I do kind of wish they had kept from the original extended plot is the one where Hera and Kanan and Zeb all kind of commiserate about how "the kids", meaning Ezra and Sabine, are growing up and leaving home, and how they have to let them go, even if they might make bad choices, really playing into that whole parental angle and explaining why they didn't immediately rush off after Ezra.)

Despite Ezra's half-hearted assurance to Hera, it's clear he has no intention of obeying her order to stay put. His sense of impulsive hyper-responsibility is too strong, he's following the same instincts that led him to obsess over and misinterpret his other two major Force visions.

So he swipes a training A-wing.

He's such a little shit I love him. <3

This is the point of no return and Ezra is unwittingly drawn into Maul's trap, which mimics the beats of a classic Campbell Hero's Journey.

Joseph Campbell, for reference, is a writer and philosopher who purported the idea of the monomyth, that in all stories and all mythologies across cultures there are similar patterns and cycles. His Hero's Journey is often styled as a closed circle ("It ends where it began."), with a dividing line between the Known and Unknown worlds and various stops and characters and plot elements mentioned along the sides. The Hero's Journey monomyth, incidentally, was one of George Lucas's major inspirations for writing Star Wars, wanting to create one such classic mythological narrative.

So we have all the elements in place here. We have the Call To Adventure (the distorted holocron message). We have the Refusal Of The Call (Hera ordering Ezra to stay and him initially not fighting her). We have the Supernatural Aid (the pieces of the holocron that function as some kind of magic compass). We've outmaneuvered the Threshold Guardian and crossed over into the Unknown (Ezra swiping the A-wing from under the technician's nose). Along the way we'll pick up the Ally or Helper (it's revealed Chopper snuck along and went with him). And we will be facing Trials, Tests, and Tribulations (everything from the initial Tusken attack to braving the harsh elements of Tatooine's unforgiving sand and heat).

...But it's all wrong.

See, Ezra has already answered the Call to his own Hero's Journey, the one that started for him all the way back in the pilot, when he returned Kanan's lightsaber and crossed the Threshold into the Unknown world of being a Rebel and a Jedi Padawan. This falsely constructed cycle Maul has drawn him into is not his narrative. It was never intended to bring him enlightenment, never intended to complete, only to be used to further Maul's selfish ends.

That Ezra manages to find enlightenment and complete the cycle anyway is something that happens in spite of Maul, and not because of him, and takes some severe course-correcting from Obi-Wan. Over and over this episode we'll hear this idea repeated, that this was not where Ezra was supposed to be in the story, it's not his job or responsibility to deal with Maul, he is where "[he] should never have been".

We'll table that for now and come back to it, have a moment to enjoy some pretty caps.

Thus far, music-wise, we've had a couple ominous cues, and a bouncy jaunt full of Rebellion flutes and brass as Ezra made his escape, in between a couple of the aforementioned long bouts of silence. There's a bubbly little bit when Chopper is discovered. (And I can't even tell you how much I love the touch with Ezra startling so bad he smacks the A-wing cockpit window and bumps the steering column so that the ship swerves out of place--PART OF THE METAPHOR MUCH?) Soft vocals filter in as Ezra consults the holocron shards, holding in long, mystical notes. A lone viola sounds, mournfully. Higher strings sound with spiritual reverence as Ezra gets out of the A-wing, as if to suggest his goal, his enlightenment, is just up ahead.

Then, darker notes like a pulsing heartbeat. The voices go discordant.

Then the Tuskens attack and hell breaks loose.

One of the underlying threads this episode is Ezra and Chopper's devotion and loyalty to each other so I really like how, even though Ezra told him to find cover, Chopper doesn't and charges in to get a Tusken off Ezra instead. Ezra in turn shields him with his own body when the Tuskens score hits that make the A-wing explode.

And that's Ezra's, "I'm in so much trouble." look lol.

Maul, meanwhile, decides to go ahead and murder all the Tuskens and I would not fault you for thinking back to another lightsaber-fueled Tusken massacre.

In fact, probably any parallel or allusion you think of during this episode is in all likelihood deliberate. Frankly I'd argue that this is one of the most important episodes of the show, with how integral it is to Ezra's character arc.

Which is why it was so annoying and asinine that people complained that Ezra took up most of the episode's focus and whined that it should have been only about Maul. Hello, do you understand the concept of a protagonist?!

Speaking of allusions though, we get some lovely call backs to "Visions And Voices" with Maul once again letting Ezra hear him inside his head and catch fleeting glimpses of him, this time in order to lure him further out into the desert. Maul is still trying to keep him in the false cycle, tempting him away from escape.

And Ezra's sense of hyper-responsibility, of This is all my fault and I have to fix it, leads him right down Maul's preordained path.

"I have to help Master Kenobi, if I can." As if Obi-Wan needs any help dealing with Maul, ha ha.

Another moment of pure heartwarming loyalty from Chopper here, he has the opportunity to keep going along the path to safety, but begrudgingly chooses instead to stay with Ezra, through thick and thin.

Ezra once again returns the favor by refusing to leave his side when he runs out of power.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Ezra staggers, looking completely exhausted. Also the sandblasting in his hair and clothes kjhfkasjfha.

Taylor's acting here is heartbreaking, he makes Ezra sound SO lost and scared. :(((((((

Maul decides to rub things in a bit and oh hey some mirror dialogue here, eerily similar to a certain exchange in "Gathering Forces". :D

Grand Inquisitor: The Darkness is too strong for you, orphan. It'll swallow you up even now. Ezra: No. Grand Inquisitor: Your master will die. Ezra: No! Grand Inquisitor: Your friends will die, and everything you've hoped for will be lost. This is the way the story ends. Ezra: NO!

And in comparison:

Maul: He is dead... He is dead. Ezra: No... Maul: You led me to him. Ezra: No. Maul: You failed your friends. Ezra: No! Maul: You will DIE!" Ezra: NOOOO!

~It's like poetry, it rhymes.~

Also this is terrifying.

So I've legitimately teared up like... twice watching this show. This was one of the times. This moment right here where Obi-Wan's feet step softly into frame.

Yeah it got me.

Cut to... Night. A quiet campfire. Ezra comes to and things are suddenly put into perspective.

"You're in the wrong place, Ezra Bridger."

(The voice they got for Obi-Wan is perfect btw, sounds just like Alec Guinness.)

Obi-Wan explains gently that he is not "the key to defeating the Sith". He never was. Maul's desires muddied the holocron vision, he used Ezra to get his own answers and left Ezra with only partial answers. Because Obi-Wan is associated with the key to defeating the Sith but he's not the Chosen One.

And neither is Ezra.

He is a narrative "chosen one", a key player picked by the Force, imbued with purpose, but defeating Vader, killing the Emperor... that was never his task to take. After the loss he suffered in "Legacy" Ezra had been letting himself get obsessed with the idea that he could fix that problem--the problem of the Sith--himself.

But that is not his role in the story.

It is not yet sunrise (Luke and Leia). So the moon (Ezra) must endure.

"You win by killing an Inquisitor." "No, you win by surviving."

Ever since before Malachor, Ezra has been stepping outside his station, trying to do things he was never meant to do, instead of what he was supposed to do, which was to help the people in front of him, right now, do what good he can in the moment. (Something that he'd gain clarity on via a falling out with Saw in Season Four.)

"What you need, you already have."

Ezra lost sight of that in the grief over his parents, in his guilt over Malachor. He was never going to be the one to defeat the Sith. Yoda and Obi-Wan both knew the only ones who even stood a chance... would be Vader's children. Maybe Ahsoka. Perhaps that was even why Yoda advised going to Malachor, to test and see if Vader could be saved, or killed, by his former padawan. Someone who he might have had a strong enough attachment to that it would cloud his judgement. (Just as Obi-Wan's mere presence would drive Vader mad with irrational murderous rage and yet, paradoxically, a cloying need to have him back.)

"We asked for a chance to destroy the Sith... and we failed."

Vader has no connection to Ezra, therefore Ezra will not be the one to end him.

His task is to endure, keep the darkness back, and hold the line until the narrative chosen one who will do that task (Luke) is ready to take up the sword. This is not Ezra's role in the story. He has his own destiny, his own part to play in the Rebellion.

And he needs to return to it.

Obi-Wan closes the broken cycle for Ezra, rescuing him from The Ordeal or Abyss, and sending him back to the Known world with the Boon (his sage wisdom) irregardless of how false the path there to him was. Ezra is freed from the obligations, responsibilities, and burdens he wrongly took on himself... to return home, and rejoin his own Hero Cycle.

And then all that's left is to "mend this old wound". (Maul)

Maul has what he wanted, or so he thinks. His old enemy, his past, ready for the killing. His future and legacy, his apprentice, within reach for taking.

But things have changed. Obi-Wan is older, wiser, more serene and at peace with himself and with the Force, in spite of all he's suffered. He has grown from his failures, let go of the past, and found balance, while Maul has regressed, repeated the same mistakes, clung to the hurt and pain in his past and deteriorated, been sucked almost dry by the Dark Side.

And Obi-Wan pities him.

Maul is scalded by this, upset that after everything he's endured, Obi-Wan seems to have taken no ill effect. And it's not like Order 66 and Anakin's betrayal didn't hurt him (hell we have all of the Kenobi show to demonstrate otherwise) but that he's processed those emotions and feelings and traumas, and returned to a settled baseline. He is more a Jedi now than ever, and revenge is not the Jedi way.

And can I flail a little bit inarticulately for a moment about the dichotomy between Obi-Wan's "I had no intention of fighting him, though that seems inevitable now." and Thrawn's "It was not my intention to utterly destroy Lothal but that is inevitable now."?

So Maul digs for something to bait Obi-Wan with, touching about the reason he's there on Tatooine to begin with, discerning that there is someone that Obi-Wan is protecting. Notes of Sith vocals creep into the music here, a sequence that sounds like Maul's arrival on Tatooine from Phantom Menace ("It ends where it began.").

And with this implicit threat towards Luke, Obi-Wan ignites his saber.

SO much ink has been spilled about this duel. I was surprised at how short it was at first too, but it makes perfect thematic sense in hindsight. The way Obi-Wan slowly baits Maul, drawing Maul's mental frame of mind back to Naboo, because he knows that Maul is stuck in the past, constantly reliving that moment of triumph and defeat over and over again, fixated on it as the shatterpoint where things in his life first went wrong. He can't let it go. He can't move on. He has to keep going back to that moment over and over to make things "correct" and kill the one he pins the blame on for his pain. (But this will not fix him, even if he accomplishes it.)

An entire story is told solely through foot placement and stances. Maul moves through the stances he's used in duels with Obi-Wan before. Obi-Wan shifts through his classic New Hope lightsaber grip, to his iconic Soresu.

And then he switches to Ataru, to the same stance Qui-Gon used.

The music has been tense throughout, but now the Force Theme creeps in. There's a flare of recognition in Maul's eyes; He knows this, this is familiar.

So he lunges, using the same lightsaber trick that he used to kill Qui-Gon...

...except it doesn't work.

I love the look of quiet realization and acceptance in Maul's expression. It's just like, "......Oh."

Maul submits and falls in defeat, into his enemy's arms, yet another parallel to Phantom Menace, to the start of everything between these two men. And then he asks something heartbreaking: Is Obi-Wan protecting the Chosen One? The one who would defeat the Sith?

And because Obi-Wan no longer believes that Vader can be saved, he answers yes. (Amazing how well this scene fits with the later Kenobi show.)

With his dying breath, Maul finally recognizes his true enemy, accepts and forgives Obi-Wan as his brother, as a fellow victim of Palpatine, and declares with almost prophetic insight, "He... will avenge us."

Not take revenge, avenge. As Trilla Sundari would admonish Cal Kestis in the Jedi Fallen Order video game, Maul also asks for restitution and justice with his last words.

(I do kind of wish we got one brief reaction shot from Ezra as he sensed Maul passing, just for confirmation that he knows. It's inferred but still.)

Back with Ezra as he returns home with the Boon, and he's also claimed the prize of Maul's ship, the Mandalorian gauntlet. (Again, just the briefest scene of him finding it, that would have been nice.)

"I was wrong. This is where I'm supposed to be. You're my family. And we should go home."

Ezra has finally forgiven himself for Malachor, completed the arc he started in "Legacy" (or maybe even earlier), and returned to his proper place. His family accepts him back with the laying of hands like a benediction.

And meanwhile, just to wring your heart one last time, we return to Tatooine, to watch Obi-Wan watch over Luke from a distance, a scene drenched in OT nostalgia, from using the exact audio of Aunt Beru calling Luke to closing us out with Luke's Theme and Binary Sunset for the credits, reminding us that the shadow will not hold sway forever.

Eventually, the sun will rise. And a new hope will emerge.

Trust in the Force.

Man, there aren't enough words to tell you how much I love this episode. It's so beautiful and poetic and thematic. It's the lynchpin of Ezra's character development, he needed to be in this episode, to go on this journey. It's gorgeously animated and there are so many many layers of parallels and themes, motifs and archetypes, that tie into the monomyth in general and Star Wars in particular. I'm astonished how well it melds with later canon material (JFO and Kenobi), but I guess that just speaks to how true to the spirit and essence of Star Wars it is.

It's just beautiful.

[your-local-simp-writers]

In Denial, Yet Infatuated

Word Count: 583

Warnings: None

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Miguel O'Hara, a complex and intriguing individual, had a way of keeping his emotions well-hidden. He was often difficult to read, his sharp wit and occasional biting remarks leaving you perplexed. And while you were completely unaware of his true feelings, Miguel's heart danced to its own rhythm, secretly longing for a connection he refused to acknowledge.

In the midst of a busy work day, you found yourself in Miguel's presence. His piercing gaze met yours, and a mischievous grin tugged at the corner of his lips. As he watched you from behind.

"You're so cute," Miguel blurted out, catching you off guard. You blinked, confusion flickering in your eyes. "What?" you asked, trying to comprehend his unexpected comment. Turning over to look at him, Miguel's face flushed, and he quickly composed himself, a defensive wall rising around him. "I said you look like a sack of shit, fuck you," he retorted, his tone sharper than he intended.

You frowned, hurt by his sudden change in demeanor. It was moments like these that made Miguel hard to read, his emotions hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and biting remarks. Still, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his words than met the eye.

As the day wore on, Miguel's occasional bouts of sweetness mixed with his aloofness, leaving you even more puzzled. One minute, he would be teasing you mercilessly, and the next, he would lend a helping hand with a smile that melted your heart. It was a constant tug-of-war between his icy exterior and his warm, goofy side.

Despite his mixed signals, you found yourself drawn to him, unable to resist the enigmatic allure that surrounded Miguel. The way he swung through the city, his sharp intellect, and his relentless determination captivated your attention. There was something captivating about the complexity of his character, and you longed to understand the depths hidden beneath his sarcastic facade.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The push and pull between you and Miguel continued, each encounter leaving you with more questions than answers. Yet, there were moments when his guard would momentarily slip, and you caught glimpses of genuine affection and longing in his eyes.

It was a sunny afternoon when you found yourselves alone together, perched on a rooftop overlooking the bustling city below. The silence between you was comfortable, though tinged with unspoken words.

Miguel broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. "You know, sometimes I wonder if you see through my act," he mused, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected vulnerability. "What act?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of Miguel's lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "The act of being a complete pain in the ass," he admitted, his tone tinged with self-deprecation.

A surge of courage coursed through you, and you reached out, gently placing your hand on top of his. "You're not just a pain in the ass," you said softly. "You're also kind, intelligent, and you have a heart that I'm still trying to unravel."

Miguel's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of surprise and something else—a glimmer of hope. "You really don't get it, do you?" he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You tilted your head, genuine confusion crossing your features. "Get what?"

His lips twitched into a half-smile, a bittersweet mixture of affection and resignation.

[itsmarsss]

me reading the chapter actuauly

ogm omfgdsjg; d i cant this is so much blitzo constantly thinking of readers words and them lingering in his mind omg i need them to make up i cannot stand this wht he hell he think that no one will be there to cross out the o but i guarantee reader with her saggy ass and titties (as an old lady) would cross the rings to do so

him hating the weekend sfngdg i canot your depictions of him feel so in character it makes me think you are a writer for the show i cannot believe that this fic is literally changing my life (for the better) ofmfks

SEEING THAT TEY TEXTED CONSISTENLY AND IT MADE HIM NOT HATE WEEKENDS AS MUCHDSG and they made it a habit to spend the weeksends together to hate them less i cannot stnat this omsg my heart

"Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs" this took me out SO BAD lmfao i just stared at my screen like

BUT THEN IMEDDIENYL HAD TO TURN AWAY BC OF THE "PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT FOLDER"

mars when i actch you mars i will fnaf jumpscare you irl this is not it. BABRIE AND HIS MOM WHAT IF I BROKE DOWN??? THEN YOU FOLLOW IT UP WITH "blitz is a 35year old single father who kills people...But in this moment… he just wants his mama." LIKE??? HOW DARE YOU ???? THAT IS SUCH A SORE SPOT BC I FEEL LIKE CRYING EVERYTIME I HEAR AB OLD POPEL MISSING THEIR PARENTS AND IT SLIKE FUGHG crying as i think ab it actually whi cant stand this

then his thought process the whole party omg he literally just wanted an escape to not feel. i cant do this anymore him asking loona to call him dad i crided

then when they leave he pulls out his phone to draw and i jsut sdjfdg i died

NOW FOR THE CONVO WITH STOLAS?? UFHH you probably grabbed it from the many ss of their messages that are shown but still omg his immediate backtracking made me want to pull my hair out bc no thats not how you talk UGHHH

then him asking loona if she would be there when he is old and she is like "ill be there dad" i cant i fucking hate this show why would they do that to me (then he vomits)

literally me after reading blitz portion

FIZZ FIDNING READER OGM he must've felt bad bc he was liek "fuckk that was the chick with blitz and stolas oph shit fuck cock"

reader having no one other than ozzie (in that moment) to go to ufhg (get this woman some friends) and their whole convo what if i

her asking ozzie if he thinks she stupid bc blitz words are echoing in her mind just as much as hers did in his omg i need them to kiss and make up please someone grow communcation skills FUCKING

stolas message with her is so late i cant stand this i think i wills start fcrying again

also her expecting a "fuck you" message from blitz only to get something that made her feel better mars stop this

this is madness when i get you i am shaking you really hard LMFAO

anyways those are my thoughts plz tell my u times this bc idk how long this took

this is the most in-depth comment anyone's ever sent me for my writing and i actually wanna cry

every time you talk about how invested in this you are and how much you love it i feel like crying djmdjmvjfk its just like i cant believe someone would care enough to leave me THIS this is so cool and so fucking nice!!

the thing about how he used to hate weekends because it meant he'd be alone and how he stopped hating them once reader came into his life came from a little blurb thingy i never ended up posting, and i felt it fit right into this chapter!

i liked writing this one a lot because the chaos in blitzos head allowed me to be all over the place and cover a lot of different stuff at once lol it was pretty cool

whenever anyone says something abt my writing being really in character it makes me feel so proud i just get so happy that it feels like ya know im taking these characters people care so much for that they're reading fanfiction about them and writing them from my perception and its so cool to have people feel like im doing them justice!!

the death with the sex toys part was a... choice lmao i thought it'd be funny to use the way blitzo's thoughts are all over the place to convey how easily they go from dumb thoughts to really depressive ones

oh the asking loona to call him dad again was added just to hurt yall i wont make excuses its there to be evil lol

yeah the convo w stolas was mostly taken out of the texts we see in stolas' phone in western energy, but i altered a few things here and there but yeah omfg what always got me with those texts is exactly that. like hes so so desperate to have things be okay he backtracks everything he's trying to say just to not feel that blitz is mad at him

i thought i could also add the layer of blitzo beeing too drunk to reply properly which is another reason for the texts to seem so cold

and ohhh yeah the thing with fizz finding her is that its both a 'fuck what i did hurt this girl' and also that kind of 'idk what to do rn' feeling of interacting with your partner's friends who you're not close enough to to have like a real conversation with lol

yeahhh im glad it was possible to catch that lol the chapter was v blitzo centered so we go through reader's pov of things very wuickly but yeah what blitz said abt her kept echoing in her mind just as much as what she said to him did in his!!

i thought the whole 'expecting a fuck you' thing would be fun to add in considering he does consider sending her a fuck you text in the beginning of the chapter lol

and seriously i think having the doodle there instead of just a description of it made it all so much more motional thank you so so much for it!!! i hope you liked the birthday gift!!!! happy birthday babes!!!!!

[rulanarinrush]

This year I received so many wonderful gifts from my friends, so I wanted to promote all the gifts given and received!(All of them with permission) Please support all the writers and artists by leaving kudos and comments and likes on their posts, and not this one.

There will be a short description of each piece so you can see if you're interested in them :)

Gift received: Ebb and Flow by CopperPrawn Pairing: Veronika/Hu Genre: Drama, Angst Summary: A lotus pulls its nutrients from hidden mud in the depths. What happens under the surface doesn't matter, as long as the lake shines as beautiful and calm as a mirror. Still, Hu sometimes wishes her roots could have gotten tangled up elsewhere. Why Veronika, of all people? Comments: An absolutely fantastic relationship study on how Veronika and Hu would change throughout the years in a world without a killing game-- and the ways that they would stay the same. The dialogue is extremely on-point. Also it's VeroHu, which automatically makes it peak.

Gift given: living the lobotomized lie Pairing: David/Levi Genre: David Chiem acting pretentious/friendship Summary: Three lessons with David Chiem. Comments: The author feels slightly bad about making David so condescending in this fic, but Levi got the last laugh, so.

Gift received: This wonderful art by Pragmaticide Comments: Genderbend art in Prag's style of all my favorite characters, the colors pop brilliantly. Don't comment on my choice of characters, I know...ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ )

Gift given: it's always more tantalizing from another perspective Pairing: Xander/Charles, minor Charles/Xander/Whit Genre: "Romance" Summary: It doesn’t mean that much. Xander is near universally kind to everyone. He won’t let this shake him. Charles is forgetting something important. Honestly though, it doesn’t really matter. Comments: At this point you are legally allowed to take Charles away from the writer, nothing good ever happens when they type his name. Do you ever think about the fact that Charles has a dead older brother and Xander likely has some dead younger brothers? And the fact that they both never got the chance to have those sibling experiences? Haha. What? This is a pretty normal fic.

Gift received: I’m keeping my eyelids up, no matter what by quicksilvercrescent Pairing: Mai/Xander Genre: Angst, Psychological Summary: He can’t sleep in a house that is no longer lived in. Comments: The king of bad m/f liking really emotionally unstable m/f fics? Woah. The power dynamics in this fic are absolutely wonderful, laced with just the right amount of sympathy to invoke the reader's compassion, but not enough to distract you from how condescending the two of them are to each other, just to form like the bonus episode it is based on. Silver made this look so easy, when any writer knows that this is actually really difficult. It's short, but extremely impressive.

Gift given: time will deceive you Pairing: Teruko/Xander Genre: Romance, Angst, Friendship Summary: Good and evil always lose their meaning over time. Their relationship had been based on a lie, after all. Comments: This writer definitely did not take such a long time to write this because they tripped and fell on their ass over plotholes in the process of writing. It's actually about Xander and Teruko living together in a world where the killing game was a virtual game, if that sort of thing catches your interest.

Gift received: made up by cococincau Pairing: Hu/Xander Genre: Friendship, "Romance" Summary: It comes as a simple favour, an act of selflessness, to cover any festering wounds with a quick coat of makeup. It always starts so similarly between them. (Foundational, foundation. Highlight and conceal. She'll teach him the steps, so he can soon follow along.) Comments: Coco is such an underrated writer, and also, it's Xanhu being loving and creepy to each other, what more do you want? They're alike in ways that don't promote personal growth, and it's just perfect for our "selfless" members of the cast. They are all about concealing their pains, after all. There is an absolute bomb of a line in here, and you'll just have to read it yourself to find out what it is.

Gift given: ENTREAT DESTRUCTION Pairing: Arei/David Genre: Psychological, "Romance" Summary: Arei gives David a warning. (David Chiem relies too much on the generosity of strangers.) Comments: F/Z so good I reskinned that thing for the peak post hiatus ship. There's a little bit of commentary on David's twisted actions after her death, but whatever. I could fix him? I could make him worse.

If you find something that catches your interest, please support the person that made it on the post itself, please! So if you read something you liked, please leave a kudo or comment on ao3, not on tumblr, and support my friends directly :). I am not going to blow up their dms to tell them someone liked this post.