#but i think i did fairly well to convey the feeling

[peculiurperennial]

Just a little lighting practice. The scene depicted is from the most recent chapter of my fic over here.

[sanjisleggy]

beautiful things (roronoa zoro x reader) [pt1/2]

req: […] My prompt is that Zoro may cross the line a bit and say something rather insensitive (up to you, you can make it known or leave it to reader’s interpretation for them to insert themselves in) and it makes the reader somewhat insecure of that or somewhat sad, this goes on until Zoro puts his pride aside to apologize OR being an idiot doesn’t realize what he did wrong until he confronts his lover why they are acting odd around them

a/n: this req was sent before i finished Thriller Bark and now i’m already at the start of post-timeskip :’D what a journey it’s been,,, anyway here’s some angst, i think i hurt my own feelings brainstorming for this :>

contents: set at the end of Thriller Bark, arguments, hurt/no comfort (yet), much angst, Zoro is bad at conveying his feelings, some descriptions of sexy times but nothing explicit as usual (i think somewhere deep in my subconscious is the burning desire to write actual filthy smut but i am too shy oops maybe one day)

wc. 1.8k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 2

i.

trying to intervene might have been a mistake, you realise as you use your strength to keep Zoro pinned to the infirmary bed–which is barely anything considering you’d gotten fairly roughed up as well on Thriller Bark. still, you grit your teeth and try your best.

the stubborn swordsman struggles against you but he’s barely able to even lift himself off the bed. his tanned skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as the veins in his neck protrude prominently from the sheer effort.

“please, Zoro! you have to rest!” you beg, wincing from the ache in your sore muscles. “we’re safe now. i don’t know how but we survived so you can’t take that for granted. you have to rest!”

for some reason, the words you chose seem to have hit a nerve. you can tell from how he instantly stops resisting and plops back down into a sitting position on the bed, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as he clenches his bandaged wrists by his side.

“for granted?” Zoro growls. an unusual burning sensation sparks in his chest, a stark contrast to the way his skin goes cold as he’s forced to recall what he had to do in order to save his captain–to save you.

his stomach lurches and his throat contracts as his body instinctively tries to force out the contents of his empty gut. the bitterness of the stomach acid clawing its way up his esophagus does nothing but pokes at the rage stirring in his heart.

logically, Zoro knows he has no reason to be angry at you. if anything, he’s always loved the way you fuss over him. over time he’d even developed a habit of pretending to get restless just so you’d take a nap with him in the infirmary bed.

he snaps his head back up to greet your worried eyes with his sharpened gaze, the sudden movement sending a sharp jolt of pain shooting down his spine. the agony is almost enough to overcome his frustration and, for a moment, Zoro thinks he’ll be able to bite his tongue and not say anything too impulsive. 

“just so you know, i’m not taking anything for granted.” the swordsman makes another attempt at standing again, his mind set on getting back to training in spite of the heaviness in the air. “you might not understand but i need to get stronger and i can’t do that if i’m laying in bed all day.”

“Zoro, my love,” you sigh, holding onto his hand as he struggles to even stand properly, “i’m not trying to stop you from training forever, y’know? Chopper said you need bed rest for at least–”

he tries his best to keep his cool, he really does; but when a sudden sharp pain shoots through his thigh, he feels his resolve shatter.

“can you let it go already?! i’m already having a hard enough time as it is, quit bothering me.” Zoro rips his hand out of yours, his eyes subconsciously tearing away from your face.

“Zoro, i’m not trying to be a bother–”

“well that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. you’re being a bother and a huge burden! why’d you think i have to train so hard? i’m always trying to keep you alive!”

he regrets everything the moment he finishes his sentence. he doesn’t even realise he’s raised his voice until he catches you flinching in his peripheral vision. his words seem to echo endlessly throughout the small space, intermingling with the sound of his uneven heavy breaths before a third noise enters the mix.

Zoro’s eyes trail back to your face when he hears you sniffle and he feels an overwhelming ache in his chest when he sees the heartbroken expression on your face. he watches for a moment–his own brain scrambling to register what he’s done–as you begin to sob right in front of him. 

the first mate opens his mouth but he doesn’t know what to say. 

you chew on your tongue as your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt and squeeze so hard your knuckles begin to tremble. an immense wave of anger floods your veins, stirring and mixing with the overwhelming sadness at being spoken to in such a way by the man you love. 

you stare at him through your tearful eyes for a second longer, waiting for him to say something–apologise, take back his words, cry, yell some more, whatever. you don’t care what Zoro does as long as he shows you he didn’t mean what he’d said.

but he doesn’t say anything.

so you leave without saying anything, too.

ii.

Zoro hesitated as he stood in front of the giant bubble before him. he knew this was what he had to do, a sacrifice only he could make to ensure the safety of his loved ones; and yet a small part of him—the part that remembered how even just a sliver of Luffy’s pain was worse than anything he’d ever felt—held him back. 

Thriller Bark was exceptionally peaceful now that the fighting had stopped and everyone was passed out. for a moment, the swordsman wished you were awake and with him. he knew your company alone would’ve made this all so much easier.

you made everything in his life easier.

now that you’d once again entered his mind and demanded all of his attention, Zoro couldn’t help but reminisce on your relationship. perhaps it was just his brain’s way of delaying the inevitable, he didn’t care. he just wanted to think about you.

Zoro remembered the first time you met. how you, a complete stranger at the time, helped him find his way back to his crew. you were patient and friendly, not once did you point out how terrible he was with directions,. it was the first time in his life he distinctly found someone attractive. 

Zoro remembered the first time you shared a kiss. you’d joined the crew for a few months by then after Luffy found out you were an author. none of them ever considered needing a chronicler until that point but once the idea came, it stayed. he had kissed you on impulse after saving you from what would have been a fatal attack. your lips tasted like matcha.

Zoro remembered the first time you were intimate with one another. you’d been dating for only a few weeks by then but the attraction you shared was palpable. you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and you looked at him as though he hung every single star in the sky. 

after your first time, it was far too easy for the swordsman to develop an addiction to you–your taste, the sounds you made and the way you clawed at his skin as you reached your peak. all his life he was used to chasing his own high by himself whenever he needed to let off steam but with you, Zoro couldn’t care less how he felt as long as you showed him how much you enjoyed yourself.

the last thing he allowed himself to remember was a memory of being nursed back to health by you. he remembered how you cried as you fed him soup. he’d laughed at how the spoon trembled in your hand and called you silly.

“i’m not being silly!” you retorted with a wobbly smile on your face. “i’m just always worried about you.”

“don’t be. i promise i’ll get stronger. i’ll get so strong you won’t even need to worry about yourself because i’ll take care of you.”

Zoro smiled to himself as he recalled the way your face softened and your smile grew wide. then, he took a step towards the bubble, deciding it was time to get it over with.

the swordsman wakes up before the dream progresses any further but the pain of it all lingers. gasping for air, he instinctively stretches out his right arm, patting the bed to find your hand. it takes him a minute to remember he’s not in your room.

the morning sun shines through the infirmary window and he can hear the faint noise of his crew members going about their respective duties, preparing the Sunny to set sail away from Thriller Bark in a handful of days. Zoro turns to his right and though he already knows what he’s going to see, he still feels his heart drop when you’re not there beside him.

for a few minutes he simply stays in bed. it doesn’t take him too long to realise this was all you’d been asking of him. out of concern and love, you just wanted him to rest and recover and what’d he do in return? he might as well have spat in your face and that probably would’ve been less hurtful than the things he’d said. 

Zoro rubs his face in frustration, struggling to even remember why he was so angry to begin with, when he hears the familiar sound of your voice passing by the infirmary door. without a second thought, the swordsman forces himself out of bed and makes it just in time to grab your arm before you reach the bend of the corridor. it’s only then he notices that Nami’s with you, as well.

“i’ll wait for you on the deck,” the navigator simply says as she gives your shoulder a quick squeeze before walking ahead. once she’s out of earshot, you finally turn around.

the initial relief Zoro feels when you don’t push him away like he expected is quickly replaced by what he can only describe as dread. you’re looking at him now but you’re not saying anything or pulling your hand out of his grasp. you just stand there with a blank expression on your face.

scream at me. yell at me. do something!

it’s only when he opens his mouth does he realise he doesn’t even know where to start. the dreadful feeling in his chest grows bigger, threatening to swallow him whole. you’re here, you’re right here in front of him and he doesn’t even know what to say.

“you know i love you, right?” is what ends up slipping past his chapped lips.

i know.

you almost say it because it’s true. in spite of what happened yesterday, you know he loves you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine; and yet, a part of you says right now is not the time to say it. you would be lying if you did.

he can tell you’re struggling to think of how to reply and it nearly tears his heart apart. the physical aches and stings he feels throughout his recovering body can’t compare to the dull ache he feels in his chest. 

“i’ll see you around, Zoro.” you wriggle your wrist out of his calloused palm before walking away quickly, disappearing past the bend of the corridor. you leave Zoro behind with his hand still held out in place, his fingers still curled as though still holding onto you.

it takes him a moment to fully realise he might have ruined the most beautiful thing in his life. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader)

tags: slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT, mentions of oral sex (fem and male receiving), mentions of fingering, piv sex, dom!obi?, i really don't know what to write here it is just filth and it is gonna get filthier

a/n: HII! so i became haunted by historical!obi au's and spent six months writing a short series... this is the first chapter out of three, so i hope you stay tuned for the upcoming one (it is FILTHIER than this and about 19k words)

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

enjoy!!!

part one | part two | part three | ao3

word count: 5.4K

chapter one: see you tonight?

“…Fuck, just like that-“

That voice. Yes, that’s how you ended up here, you think, as you roll your hips, feeling the exquisite contours of Obi Wan’s cock stretching your walls and pulling pleasure out of every cell in your body, and possibly from your soul too.

Ehem. Lord Kenobi.

And truth be told, that’s not exactly how things led here. Of course, his rich voice and the manner in which he used it were notable factors. The way he camouflaged his remarks under sweet quips never failed to make you giggle into the next day, and regardless of the topic (ashamedly, it was mostly about the other people in the room, and their rather obscene behaviors), the comments he made always reflected the intelligence behind it. He played the serious bit perfectly too, even though his reverent sentences carried some poetry, never pompous, yet deep enough to convey its origin and the realness of his sincerity… That’s why you started spending hours with him at balls in the first place. Ten minutes alone with him, undoing all the prejudice you had against the man. All the rumors about him were proven wrong, or at least, half true. And you liked that remaining part of the truth.

Only after that, came the subject of his charms. Not quite surprising, considering that there was no lack of handsome faces around, but a lack of brains in them. Or a true heart. You hated the hypocrisy of it all, and it was a blessing to find someone who shared that sentiment. Not to mention the benefit of him deflecting any unwanted company.

Likewise, he must've thought the same about you, thus your current position. It was obvious that both of you two had similar standards, even in these lewd matters. People didn’t call him a heartbreaker because he pursued a lot of women, but when he did and it came to an inevitable end, they were the shell of whom they used to be, like a person could be mummified by the absence of the joy he charmed people with it. And you, you weren’t the type to have somebody just because you could. No, you looked for a special connection, a click, and when you got lucky and found one among the countless candidates, you treasured it. Now, even the word click sounded wanting, there were sparks present between the two of you, a considerable, good dynamic you two had built, and that made everything just better.

You were almost sad thinking this was a one-time event, already knowing this is a moment you'll remember your entire life. (You weren't gonna push your luck on getting caught.) If there were such deals, two of you keeping it to each other forever in this aspect of life, you’d have signed that contract in a blink.

“Thought you said you were tired.” He breathes out, clearly an effort, yet the smug grin on his face leaves no room for doubt or pity.

“I’ve been sitting all day.” That’s how travel works in carriages, after all. “I think stretching my legs, is what I need.” You emphasize by raising yourself higher and slowly sink back down a few times, a motion that pulls moans from both of your mouths.

Travel. It took you half a day to reach your aunt’s estate, and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t attend the ball that is currently taking place. Then, you realized there was no way your gracious hostesses would see you tonight, you were forced to enter the saloon. It would be a quick in and out, maybe greeting a few more people, no dance, with the very valid excuse of I’ve been on the road all day and I am quite exhausted ready on your lips at any interaction. This was why you didn’t even bother to put much effort into your looks, opting for a change of dress, and nothing more. No jewelry, no retouches to your hair. After all, it would just add to your part if you seemed slightly off.

Somehow, it turned out to be a regrettable decision, when numerous eyes turned to you as you took a step into the room, and even longer after that. Maybe not every head turned or the music came to an abrupt stop, the sprouting silence broken by collective whispers, but it happened, subtle yet enough to make itself known. You were given the same treatment for years at this point, but there was no getting used to it. Color that had been settling in your cheeks seemed to be permanent, at least for the night, not leaving your side as you took your place among your relatives. The expensive fan you were gifted by- God knows who, you were in no mood to remember it now, did nothing to relieve your suffering. 

And, countless other greetings don't help either. You fastened the movement of your hand, curling your lips into a forced smile. You could truly get tired from all these repeated words and gestures.

"I'm afraid I forgot to bring my dance card." You said again, to the third man who came with the same offer, Duke Caldo, all true except the part "forgot". You left it, willingly, just in front of your vanity mirror. The mirror which you desperately wanted to see yourself in right now, away from the ball. 

"A great pity." The exclamation didn't come from him, though. 

Your fan dropped from your hand and closed itself when it hit your wrist, dangling from the loop around your forearm as you heard that voice, no introduction ever needed. Perhaps, not even his voice was required, for there was always that unexplainable change in the quality of air in the rooms he occupied, like he was casting a spell on those around him, trickling magic dust with every step, a rare perfume. You wouldn’t use such metaphors if it wasn’t for the simple fact that your body always figured out his presence before your mind, catching a sense of that hypnotic essence. You often realized all the hairs on your arm standing up, or a tingling sensation in the back of your neck, breathing getting a bit harder, only to quickly locate him in your eyesight. 

"Lord Kenobi." It is said in a contemptful respect, a greeting and a goodbye. “Goodnight, my Lady.”

You didn’t even bother to mutter a proper response, and frankly, the Duke didn’t wait for one either. So, all your focus can be reserved on the man in front of you. 

You raised your arm as if intending to extend it so he could complete his small tradition of placing a kiss on the back of your hand, like he has done every time your paths crossed, even multiple times a day (that’s exactly how you noticed it was more than a simple salutation), (honestly, you liked it, his daring movement revealing a lot about his nature), only to flick it to reopen your fan. The gentlest gust of it licking your skin was more than enough now, making it all too pleasing to watch him save himself with a deep bow of his head, the annoyance quickly turning into a satisfied grin, like he didn’t expect anything less from you. 

“That looks even more beautiful in your hand.” He pointed at it, but his eyes wandered all over your body. You did the same, though there was little notice, his usual beige suit far too familiar. Your focus was always on the fact that he looked so good in it, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, or his defined arms exquisitely pronounced over the fabric.

Right. So it was his gift. Why did you ever entertain other possibilities?

You weren’t going to disappoint him by mentioning it is only here because your panicked maid accidentally packed the first item she saw, for you never took anonymous gifts. You didn’t need the attention they brought.

"And I couldn't thank you enough for it. I can practically name it my savior tonight." You answered, making a show of lavishing yourself in the stream it creates.

"My only source of pride is the fact that it perfectly blends with the rest of your attire. Now, I can proudly say I know your taste."

Classic Obi Wan. Even his compliments, far from usual, borderline scandalous. He's been peppering you with them ever since the start of your friendship and you were never immune to them. You outright enjoyed them. Especially now, they didn’t help the simmering tingles forming at the depths of your belly, amplified by weeks of solitude. “Only a part of it I’m afraid, but you’ll learn the rest in no time, don’t worry.”

“Can’t wait.” He grinned and scanned the room for prying eyes. Finding none, he made himself more comfortable by your side, hoping to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” You admitted, somehow managing not to sound like you’re overly joyous of that not happening.

“I could say the same about you.” Was that excitement, or disappointment in his voice? Was he planning of politely ravishing other women, when you were not present to entertain him? Something told you those were not among his intentions, the smile on his face too honest, his twinkling gaze focused solely on you. 

You tilted your head and curled your lips. Touché. “It is nice to attend the ball your acquaintances are throwing, even if you arrive late. But for you, sir, I'm afraid people will actually think you're looking for a wife."

He rolled his eyes. There was a hint of offense in them just at the mentioning of the subject, but the playful type, not the exasperated type he uses for others. 

"Curious. The diamond of the season is also here. Isn't it strange that she still hasn't found someone, it's nearly the end of the season?" You inhaled sharply, dramatizing further. "Do you have something to do with it, Lord Kenobi?"

He scoffed, the impossibility of it reflected in his voice. "The diamond of the season?-"

"I thought you deserve nothing less." You explained, but he interjected.

"I'm only interested in one diamond." He said, initiating intense eye contact.

It was your turn to scoff, and run away from his gaze. "I was never the diamond."

"Only because you saw how better you were than the rest, and fled just before the start of the season." His eyebrows were raised, begging for a denial.

"I had planned that trip months ago." You simply stated. "And I came back halfway through summer, didn't I?"

"Just like now."

"Do I need to remind you who you have been spending time with since June?" 

"And where were you coming from tonight, ending your visit of- how long was it?"

"I am fond of traveling. Balls and banquets can entertain someone so far. " You shrugged, "Lord Kenobi, are you trying to say that you missed me?" 

"I could never claim otherwise." 

That was true from your perspective as well. All these years of constant traveling, and this year was the first time you missed what you left behind at home, even during the buzzing, pretense-filled months. None of it seemed that intolerable, and somewhat fun, if you dare to admit. You knew this impression was his doing, and now after your while spent apart, the feeling came back tenfold, almost making you squirm over such loose confessions.

That was it. That was the turning point of the night.

“Truth be told, the night is going much better than I dreamed of, and I almost regret forgetting my dance card.” You raised your chin, and sent him a look. “Would you be so kind to help me find it?” 

You could basically see the gears turning, a fire behind his eyes, fueling the desire growing in the depths of your belly. His gaze was piercing, even after he’d long decided, the truth known to both of you. Your heartbeats must’ve been visible, you imagined, and felt it skip a beat as he licked his lip. “Lead the way.”

Now that’s, how you ended up here.

However, as you look down at his face, the story gets blurry, perhaps outright loses its importance, abandoning your mind. His hair is tousled, a rebel strand in front of his eyes, and moves with every bounce. Your hands are too busy to hold onto his sweaty chest, slightly tugging on the auburn fuzz. You wanted to do that ever since he took his shirt off.

(Then again, you’re not sorry for the amount of time you couldn’t, drowning in him. The moment you felt his expert lips on yours, all your will to protest anything had died. Later, as his fingers joined the show, you quickly realized you were fine with what he gave, but he, ever the gentleman, let you prevail.)

It is a sight. And the moans that fall from his lips surpass the delicate melody the musicians are playing downstairs in every way, which can still faintly be heard. (You never thought an orchestra would accompany you during this, but here you were. It is a detail you’ll remember with a smile while looking back at it, but now, you couldn’t care any less.)

“You’re taking me so well.”  He starts to thrust his hips up slightly, meeting your rhythm, but never overtaking it.

“I know.” You giggle, but the reaction he’s taken notice of is your fingertips digging in further, and your walls fluttering around his cock.

When you start to falter a bit, perhaps due to the fatigue settling on your muscles embarrassingly not long after his words, or his mere presence clouding your brain, his fingers that have been resting on your thighs slowly ascend to your hips. The fingers drenched in your juices, another element that has the coil in your belly tighter. The next few strokes, with his guiding hand, touch something deep inside you, and your jaw hangs open.

“Fuck…” is the only word you can mutter, and he chuckles at it.

“Is that so?” He mocks, but brushes your loose ringlets with a single hand, and caresses your nipple on its way down. The latter shows his true disposition, and that drives you to be more vocal, if you weren’t already.

“You feel… so… good.” You can hardly say, as your puffy clit drag against his skin all so deliciously like this.

He twitches inside you at the compliment, and you throw your head back with a whine. Despite the fact that he would kill to see your face, he doesn’t push, enjoying the state he’s putting you in with his voice. Every praise that falls from his lips earns him a melodic moan, along with the feeling of you tensing and relaxing, always responding to his call in one way or another.

You’re one step away from being a doll at his bend, though you couldn’t care any less, not when you are this close.

He likes it, very very much. Yet, not enough to silence his wishes of how to ruin you, in the best way.

In a blink, you find yourself on your back, and him on top of you. That’s not the first thing you see, though. It is his hand, lifted from wherever it fell, catching your chin to turn your head to him. Sounds of panting are all there is, no movement, no words, not even your rapid heartbeats drumming in your ears seconds ago as if the world stopped for a second.  

His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you let it slip in. God, you can still taste yourself. The revelation has your objections at the change dead, your face twisting, yet he tsks thrice, capturing your attention.

“Let me see those eyes.” Obi Wan commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. “You look so good beneath me.” 

Somehow, his words have you flushing and squirming as if that was the most inappropriate thing happening in this room. Funny, how he breaks your will, and you let it. Against all the talk of your friendship, until an hour ago, you’d have lashed out at an equivalent demeanor, even said in affectionate terms. (Any other way is simply impossible, anyway.)  But, that hour proved itself to be much precious, and now with that glossy gaze, snatched right from the brink of climax, you focus on the doting aspect, how he cannot get enough of the image of you.

You start to writhe, the new emptiness inside you unbearable. “Touch me, Obi Wan…”

He's not proud of the way your begging has his cock leaking, though that hardly stops him. He lives for mutual pleasure, even just yours at the moment, yet you look so pretty like this, grasping the sheets. 

"Like this?" He slides his thumb further into your mouth, relishing the feeling of your tongue swirling around it immediately. Or course he wasn't expecting you to suck him off if you didn't want to, nor would he ever ask for it, he can't help but imagine the feeling, his hips rolling in seek of stimulation.

You shake your head, and his finger is freed with a pop. You frown as the sole contact you have with him is lost. It is a warning sign for him, the fragility of your dream-like state, a reminder of how he has to do better, if he wants to take control. As a gentleman, he wanted to give you everything you desired, but since it was your first time together, a terra incognita, he had to be sure of your limits, so he followed your wishes gladly. The wishes which were masterfully balanced versions of both of your needs. The same problem troubled you too of course, but you were a quick learner, a connoisseur of his taste in no time. The fact that it was very similar to yours was an exciting discovery, certainly a pleasant one, and was a great help, so great that it almost felt like cheating. While he took no issue with your tricks; the urge to take you on his terms, the compulsion to show you how he wants to cherish you couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He had to let you know.

He leans in closer, his arms bend as yours find his shoulders like a habit, “Like this?” He murmurs, right before brushing his lips against yours, effectively swallowing your whine. Though it was a sound of protest, all complementary sentiments die when he nips at your lower lip, and you open your mouth, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking yours, and his sweet essence. In contrast to his other needs taken good care of, he hadn’t taken enough of the feeling of our mouths joining. God, he spent hours imagining your mouth, curling into every shape as smart words spilled from it, enhancing his fascination with you. It fires the flames of haze further, even if he’s not actually properly touching you. Your hand roams his neck, then etches itself into his silky hair. You’ve done that a few times now (and found his response most addicting), but it is hardly satisfactory compared to the amounts you dreamed of doing during these last couple of months. You saw him prim and proper mostly, not a strand out of place, making you marvel at its excellence, and the itch to mess it up growing stronger each instance, a stark contrast to your surroundings. Also, there were times the infamous piece fell in front of his eyes, and sometimes even more disheveled than that, riding a horse, enjoying sports with his friends, and once after a bath, when your family visit started a little earlier than planned. You were always admiring the way it reflected light, creating almost a halo around his head, especially in sunlight. It is the first thing your eye is drawn to whenever you’re in the same place, a beacon of sorts. You never thought you’d be this amazed by hair, yet the moans he produces when you tug on it, add to your astonishment, and you’re not sure if you can look at it again, without being reminded of this moment.

He breaks the kiss as for you to catch your breath, for he has long kept you away from it. Still, he continues to pepper you with tons of them, scattered all across your jaw and neck, in search of that sweet spot that has you cursing. It is not a serious journey, in fact, he does more than press his lips against your skin properly, tease you with his open mouth, drag his tongue along the taut muscle, nip and outright bite, once.

“No marks-“ You protest. Futile. You should’ve warned before he started to nibble, way before he sank his teeth, but it has happened after all, and you can already feel blood settling on the sites of his attack. “What I am going to tell my maid now?”

“The truth.” He retorts. “Of how you led Lord Kenobi into our bed, and did dirty, unspeakable things with him.”

That earns him a harsh pull at his scalp, and a pat on his shoulder. He meets with your glaring gaze, and cheeks redder than a minute ago. So, he’s still on your good side. Barely.

“Apologies, my dear.” He takes the hand that smacked him, and places a peck onto your palm before placing it back. You can’t break the eye contact as he does so, something about his appearance, perhaps his position, or the charming contours of his face, or the way he deals with your anger keeps you from kicking him out. Caressing your open legs, he massages them ‘til they relax afresh, squeezing at the soft flesh. You hiss when his movement nears your inner thighs, thanks to his beard, and the climax it brought you. The gesture hints, still, there’s the matter of fire burning in your belly. “Couldn’t resist, you know me. Let me make it up to you.”

He wastes one more second to carve this image inside his head, then fulfills his promise. He likes the way you tremble while you wait, a whimper leaving your mouth at him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a few times. God, how you wish that was your hand. Damn your stubbornness, and demand for compensation. You put extreme effort into staying still, releasing a shaky breath when he places the tip at your entrance.

Remember when he said “ruin”?

He doesn’t push it in, instead letting it slide up your slick folds, and tap against your clit. You nearly jolt at the touch, yet again tasting bliss, even if it is in mere drops. He repeats the action, and you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. Maybe you’re the one leaving marks now, but you don’t care. Eye for an eye you can say, in retrospect.

“You’re so wet.” He can’t stop looking into your glistening core. He also can hear it, the squelching sounds echoing at his every movement. He knows you can too, that it calms your nerves, though they act up for different reasons. “All this for me?”

Unfortunately, you are late to realize he doesn’t take your moans for an answer. You can’t help it, you are unable to form words. Even if you gather the strength, they die out at your throat, especially under his piercing look. Fuck, he loves how cockdumb you’ve become for him.

He takes pity on you then, dropping his cock to briefly rest on your opening, and forces his fat tip in.

Your back arches, a throaty sound filling the room. He shushes right next to your ear, in an effort to calm you down as he slips the rest in. It is as if you’re taking him the first time, like you weren’t riding him moments ago.

“Fuck-“ That’s the only reaction, the only answer he needs. You fall back into the sheets, the first time he rolls his hips, and sets a new rhythm, a slow one to kindle the flame once more. Your hair probably getting tangled from the way it’s rubbing against the sheets, and your legs are split wide open. You feel every vein and ridge moving against your walls, the slight resistance disappearing in no time. His chest brushes against yours, and combined with the warmth of his breath, so close to yours, it’s easy to let go of your worries.

This is why you ended up here.

“Faster!” While he already feels great, it’s not the exact pattern to provide that sweet release, not in the timeframe you hoped.

“I want this to last, dear.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. A part of it due to irritation. Being subjected to that response before, he snickers to see you’re still you, even when you’re literally fucked out of your mind. As he does so, his lips skim yours. You take it, greedily, one hand first on his neck to ensure he stays, then to his unruly tress, aspiring to compel him into the middle ground. That earns you a few groans, yes, but his will doesn’t seem to falter even a little bit.

Perseverance, is a mutual quality, as you already know.

You slowly release the grip you have on his head, emphasis on slowly. It goes unnoticed, thanks to your timely bite, the same assault he once carried out. You don’t waste the access to his tongue, sucking on it. You’re not sure if his moans are increased in number, or if it feels more because you swallow every single one of them, but the fact that his beard starts to prick your cheeks harder gives you an idea.

Your free hand falls into sheets and slithers across the length of your body. Just a little more- you’re almost about to touch your –

His fingers wrap around your wrist instantly, dragging it up, a little further away from your face. You twist your neck, a wail coming out as you reject his kiss.

Only to be met by the sight of that said fingers running up your palm, and interlock themselves among yours.

Your breath hitches, for reasons unknown to you.

“Ah- ah -ah.” He tuts, though there’s not a hint of disappointment in his voice. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”

You can’t believe one physical contact, and his words, are enough to carry you to that previous peak. Your pussy contracts around him, beyond your control, an indication of your closeness, nothing compared to before.

“Ngh- that’s it.” He encourages, “Just relax and take it.” That’s more sincerity than you’ve ever heard from him.

It goes on and on for a while, him doing exactly what he promised to do, and fulfilling his wishes in the process. He already knows this could go on ‘til morning, and he still wouldn’t be completely satisfied, longing for your presence the second he leaves the bed. Still, he continues, pushing himself to his limit, and that’s getting quite harder when you clamp on him that hard. He feels his cock leaking, begging for that sweet end.

When his arm that’s not supporting his weight travels down, caressing your hip before pressing his thumb to your clit, finally, you reward it with a whisper of his name, a sound he won’t dare to forget. Your back arches impossibly higher, and he has to lean back, abandoning his other hold.

Your limb stays in the spot he left it.

He curses at the realization, perhaps its effect mirroring yours when he first initiated the contact. Fuck, how are you so perfect? He snaps his hips harder, and circles his thumb, feeling it throb.

“Obi Wan-I’m c-“

He loves how your words are cut with the need to scream that you gulp down, only resigned to breathing as your face contorts with pleasure. “Cum for me, love.”

Your moans blend into each other, as he cannot stay still at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tight. He holds your trembling thigh, fondling the soft flesh, adoring the way it spills from his grip. He doesn’t stop ‘til they settle again once more, and even a little longer than that, pulling out in the last minute to cover your belly with his spend. 

That act keeps you from turning to your side, and feeds the desire to hug the sheets, a soft but firm ground for your senses to return. You're not complainant of it anyways, you have a far better view in front of you, defined muscles undulating with each heavy breath, glistening due to the light coat of sweat covering them, lips puffy and slightly flushed with blood, as well as his cheeks. You always thought he was devilishly handsome, but this, this is something else. The world should consider itself lucky, or it would bend to his will just from his looks. Or unlucky, for the honor is bestowed upon a handful of people. 

He believes he's blessed with the sight upon him, too. Still holding onto your thigh, he delights in spontaneous tremors that possess it. If he looks closely, he's sure he can see the faint mark he left. Your hair is sprawled around, much in contrast to the delicate up-dos you and every noblewoman fashioned, its most natural form, and the intimacy of it definitely causes a small breakdown. You belong in a painting, depicting goddesses and nymphs, a grace outside the limits of time and culture. Your droopy lids and tired pull at the corners of your mouth fill his chest with pride and more adoration, like after his every successful attempt to elicit a reaction from you. It happens often, thanks to the understanding that grows between the two of you, but every example is still treasured in in his mind.

“Well, I don’t know any better way to spend the night.”

You giggle. “I agree.”

“We should’ve done this before.”

Your lifted brows are the perfect answer. Like it’s that easy.

But he has a point, too.

In the comfortable silence, he gets up from bed, a sigh at the roar coming from downstairs, drowning the music. That’s still going, huh? You watch as he wets the nearest towel, and returns, cleaning the mess with unexpected gentleness that it almost tickles. There’s no aim to steal one more touch at his movements, no personal gain except an easy conscience, and even that is a stretch because it’s most natural to him, his understanding of tenderness.

“Well, thank you, sir.” You sit up, with a yawn, and scooch backward to your pillows as he retreats to give himself the same treatment. “And my nightgown, please.” You point to it, and amusingly follow his subtle headshake, and efforts to hand it over. He hesitates for a second at the last minute, considering rebellion, a last joke. You see it, and snatch the fabric from his grip before he can tighten it. He can feel it sliding over his skin, the light material flying. You slip it on, aware of his voyeur. with a victorious smile cut too short as exhaustion creeps into your bones. You’re no different, in any case, settling into the fluffy pillows, curiously examining each piece of clothing he puts on from afar, the unwritten rule of his habits, his hidden glances at your mirror in a feeble pursuit to tame his messy hair. You’re willing to be charged guilty for that.

He stalls, though, you can feel it after a while, around the time sleep clouds your vision. How could anyone blame him for not wanting to leave, carve your picture to his mind, and calm his yet again straining cock at it?

“You should be going. Servants are going to be wandering these corridors for orders, soon.” Your heart winces at the warning, because he's not the type to need it, or disregard you to put you at any risk. But your cognation runs thin, and he needs to know the dangers he might face. 

"True. Right. You're correct." Is that a stutter? "Good night, my lady."

"Good night, Lord Kenobi.

"Glad to be of help in stretching your legs." 

The cushion falls short to exactly hit him, but the sentiment is clear. 

In the morning, you uncover the reasons behind his diversion. 

Bastard signed every slot in your dance card.

[charcubed]

Doctor Odyssey finale (aka the Captain vs The Powers That Be)

WELL! My mind is powerful unfortunately.

That simultaneously blatantly looked like what happens when a queer story gets censored but ALSO felt it could be twisted as setup for a future throuple in season 2 if miracles happen, which is both better and worse than I expected (a la Max’s speech).

They packed several bits of ODY3 subtext in the last like 5 minutes of that episode and I will TAKE IT ALL:

Max and Tristan making up as a group wedding happens.

Here's a screencap I took that also captured my sister texting me because she heard me yell "FUCKING FINALLY" through the wall.

Bonus points for the Captain's speech about love.

Despacito (LMFAAAOOO) being a Max/Tristan moment before Avery returns. "It started with a dance on a beach," as we were reminded this episode. But that song and dance was always about all 3 of them.

Not ending it on Maxavery; ending it on the throuple. Despite how that makes Tristan a third wheel in a scene that would feel objectively insane in any other television program about a love triangle lol. But this was never a conventional love triangle despite this supposed "resolution"! It was a poly love story!

And Max said he'd take all the bad again for both of them.

Treasuring the beautiful morsels <3

But! Come for the ODY3 subtext, stay for the other tangentially related subtext in the episode.

It's not a joke anymore (if it ever was): I DO think there is credence to the Captain's story in this finale being about the censorship of the show. It felt intentionally blatant.

"Corporate" "The powers that be" The rest of the team standing in solidarity? Not a boat but a SHIP?

Yeah.

Sequence of events:

Captain Massey, #1 supporter of ODY3 in the show (like its creators/writers), is steering the ship.

Captain is removed from power by corporate and the ship is steered by Monroe to bring Avery to Max.

Maxavery ultimately decide on monogamy. (That hard cut from Max and Avery dancing without Tristan to the Captain looking upset while on the ship? Like holy shit lol.)

Captain is then put back in power in the end via solidarity and protesting from his team.

Only then does ODY3 subtext return.

Crazy work.

I see. I perceive and appreciate. I say "fuck you, ABC network executives." The usual.

But in all seriousness, one of the reasons I'm arguing this is that – if I understood/remember correction (I'm very tired so maybe I'm off with this detail lol) – the Captain was removed from his position for saying they were returning to land to pick everyone up. So corporate punished him for that.

But Munroe made the same call and then did THE SAME DAMN THING with no consequence. It wasn't a plot thing. It was a metaphor!!!

CRAZY. WORK.

I do think they set up potential for a season 2 fairly well, all things considered? Like Max/Avery are obviously doomed without Tristan involved. Framing even conveyed that:

Tristan being in the middle again, getting between Max and Avery just like when they walked down the aisle as a trio (as ODY3 truther Captain is reinstated)… likely thing for them to show.

Avery wearing red as a visual warning while Max/Avery's chairs are close together and Tristan is slightly farther with a different drink… sick and twistedddd. (<- Complimentary)

So like, I'm at the point where I believe this show either doesn't get renewed because they said no ODY3 allowed, or if it DOES get renewed it's because ODY3 is (temporarily) alive as a possibility. The writers left themselves enough threads and subtext to work with, though I'm not sure how they'd get around Avery not being on the boat.

...but Avery going to med school means Max/Tristan would physically be on the ship together as just the two of them for a bit. There's that.

So like. Am I satisfied? No.

Would I say I'm upset? Not on the level I could've been. The writers got to sneak in more crumbs than my low expectations anticipated tbh. I'm mostly just sighing heavily. I also think I'm entitled to financial compensation, and Tristan as a character is entitled to violence, after which I will wrap him up in a blanket to hug him.

Would I say this show has wasted potential if it's been axed via the behind-the-scenes ultimatum of network interference that I suspect? Yeah, obviously. ABC executives, you STUPID BIGOTED BASTARDS.

To recap from last week's post:

There is a non-zero possibility that the execs gave Ryan Murphy an ultimatum about no longer doing polyamory, and since that’s the premise of the show, he is stuck struggling to figure out where the show can go from here. Which is maybe why it’s a decision (but not much of one) that the execs say Ryan Murphy has to make, which positions him as the bad guy who has to take the fallout from fans if he ostensibly ~just decides not to continue the story~ if renewal doesn’t happen.

The way this finale went seems to support that. But who knows! Take it with a grain of salt.

Anyway. I'm chillin. Like I made my peace with this a couple weeks ago at this point because I could see the writing on the wall. This show was still a gift to me. Censorship is just seemingly alive and well in the big year of 2025 (that's not news, though I really appreciate it being written into a plot) but subtext is also alive and well, so! Fuck it.

Throuple slow burn love story boat show I will always adore yoouuu <333

[mae-lou-ron]

Back to Sleep

Summary: After some bad dreams interrupt your sleep, you find some unexpected comfort in your beloved partner, Tech.

Pairing: Tech x gn!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, waking from bad dreams (no details), fluffy practical Tech in a newish relationship.

Word Count: ~800

A/N: AHHHHHH okay okay okay so the plot goblins absolutely infested my brain after I saw THIS ✨incredible✨ artwork of our darling Tech by @ghostymarni 🫶🏻 This is completely self indulgent because, well, I love him, your honor. I was also a little inspired by the scene in the episode of Schitt’s Creek where Alexis tells David about her breakup with Mutt and realizes she needs a hug 😂

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Tech?" you murmured into the room he was occupying.

Tech hummed softly in acknowledgment. "It is late and I am in the middle of repairs—what do you need?" he asked quietly, not looking up from his project.

You didn't take offense to his demeanor when interrupted; it was just how his brain worked. His mind never ceasing its search for information and solutions. Sometimes that meant extracting himself from your sleepy cocoon to pursue whatever pathway his incredible mind had opened up to him in the middle of the night. But when you didn't respond for a moment, it shifted his unwavering attention to you, immediately noticing your slightly disheveled state.

"I just…" You paused again. "Maker, this is so stupid," you muttered under your breath, unsure if Tech heard you or not.

There was no room for anxiety in your gut now that the mortified butterflies had taken over. Things were still fairly new with you and Tech. You appreciated that he wasn't one who typically relied on physical affection to convey his feelings—and neither were you, really, but right now you were still a human with a rattled nervous system.

You heard the sound of tools being set down gently and the quiet thump of his approaching footsteps.

Your face was burning with embarrassment. You weren't a child, clearly, you should be able to console yourself and go back to sleep, but you were here now and had his undivided attention. Something that made your chest flutter wildly whenever you had it.

The toes of his boots came into your view as he stopped in front of you. "Sarad?" Tech inquired, his voice softening. "Is something the matter? You seem… unsettled." He offered. The warmth he always radiated displaced some of the chill that had set into your bones, and you instinctively leaned forward into him a little more. "Did I wak—"

"I had a nightmare—" you blurted out, inwardly groaning. Your eyes flicked up to his briefly before focusing on the middle of his chest. “I woke up and you…”

"I see," he said softly after a moment, adjusting his goggles as he regarded you. "You were seeking comfort after your bad dreams had woken you?"

"It's nothing—I was just a bit anxious when I woke up, but it's… it's nothing," you said again, standing on your tiptoes and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'm fine, I really should go back to sleep…and don’t to stay up too la—" you rambled, still talking yourself out of whatever reason you had to disturb him. You took a few steps back the way you came, but Tech’s hands on your shoulders stopped you.

"Your heart rate is elevated," he said plainly, peering at you. "You are flushed and speaking more quickly than usual." Tech lifted the back of his hand to gently run along your heated cheekbone. "…and you are avoiding eye contact with me, so I can deduce that you are, in fact, not 'fine’, my dear," he said softly, his fingers trailing down your chin before he pulled them away.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked genuinely. “I know that helps you sometimes,”

You shook your head, furrowing your brow. "It's just the same one I told you about," you confessed, biting the inside of your cheek, trying to determine yourself what it is you were seeking. His hand was back at his side, but you wished it was still caressing your face.

"I think I might need a…hug…" you said warily, as if you were unsure of the words that came out of your own mouth. "…or something?" You added, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ah," he said, his eyes darting back and forth processing this information. He did that sometimes. You couldn't help but smile at seeing the brain you adored at work for you. "I understand," he added before walking back to his workbench—making it seem as though he didn't actually understand at all. You took a few steps in his direction as he pulled over a nearby chair and sat down.

Confusion was visible on your face. You told him you needed a hug, or something, and he immediately went and sat down? Possibly to continue the task you had just interrupted? But he didn't start working; he just looked at you expectantly.

"Come here, sarad," he said gently, shifting in the seat and patting his legs.

You smiled slowly, now understanding, and tiptoed over to him, gingerly taking a seat in his lap. He pulled you to him tightly, encouraging you to relax and lounge fully on him. He kissed the top of your head and ran his hand up and down your spine as you curled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent of clean soap and mechanical ozone.

"This is nice," you sighed contentedly, feeling the tension in your chest releasing.

"Good," he quipped, brushing your face with his fingers again. "Rest. Fall asleep if you wish… I shall be here."

"Thank you," you murmured, curling your arms around his waist and closing your eyes. Tech's hands eventually left you to resume his task, but he pressed his lips into the top of your head every so often, reminding you he was still right there with you. His warmth and the steady thrum of his heart soothed you, while the sounds of his gentle tinkering and even breathing lulled you back into a peaceful sleep.

When you awoke, you found yourself back in Tech's bunk, but this time he was wrapped around you, snoring softly into your shoulder.

[taffywabbit]

oops i accidentally wrote a review for zelda II: the adventure of link

(originally posted to Cohost on Feb 22, 2024. you can ignore this if you want, i just wanted it archived somewhere before that site disappears)

Finally beat Zelda II for the first time last night (I forced myself to finish it before starting Splatoon 3's Side Order DLC, because I knew if I didn't push through to the end of the Great Palace THIS time then it'd be years before I tried beating it again. This is probably my 4th or 5th attempt at this point). Not that this is a particularly hot take by most people's standards, but I don't think it's all that good, at least from a gameplay standpoint.

I don't regret playing it though, because I think I'm finally able to put my finger on the stuff I actually disliked about it vs the stuff that was honestly fine, or even (very rarely) actually good? I'm kinda fascinated by it, honestly. Sequels where they immediately screw around with the first game's formula (to mixed results) are neat! FE Gaiden is another example that comes to mind (hey they should give Zelda II the Shadows of Valentia treatment, that could be really cool actually).

Obviously Zelda II has a reputation for being kind of a rough experience. It's an NES game, and NES games are often susceptible to being frustrating, buggy, hard to control, or overly punishing. Sometimes, all of the above! And for what it's worth, the original Legend of Zelda was a tough and sometimes very cryptic experience as well. But I feel like the two games are challenging in drastically different ways, and I think TLoZ ended up being the formula that was retained in the long term primarily because its method of challenging the player overall did a better job of inspiring curiosity and exploration. Despite narratively being a direct sequel (with a really badass story premise that is unfortunately not really conveyed at all in-game) Zelda II took a different approach to nearly every element of the original's gameplay, which is a pretty bold move I suppose. Whether or not it succeeds at anything is fairly subjective, but it's undeniably had a lasting impact on the series, as well as the people who grew up with it (and then they went on to make some really excellent mid-2000's flash games inspired by it that I frankly enjoyed a lot more than this... and also a weirdly solid licensed Adventure Time game on the 3DS? I should go back and play that sometime, it's really fun).

Where to start with this...? Uhhh, the EXP-based leveling system where you choose what stats to put your points into is interesting! It creates a risk-and-reward system for fighting enemies instead of avoiding them, whereas in most other Zelda games besides BotW/TotK, the only reward for killing monsters is "they are no longer bothering you while you solve puzzles, and also sometimes they drop rupees/hearts/ammo". It also introduces a bit more player choice in what areas you'd like to get stronger in first, which is cool! I just wish it actually mattered in a way that let you feel powerful for even a moment. Instead, leveling Life (which is functionally just defense) is never enough to actually make you feel like you can afford to take a hit - the expectation seems to be that leveling Attack, Life, and Magic is something you do purely to keep up with how badly every single thing in this game wants to stomp you into the ground and soak up a million hits and waste all your magic. You CAN skip out on leveling one stat to prioritize another, or even try to evade tough combat situations entirely, but if you aren't leveled enough and in the exact things the game expects you to be WHEN it expects you to be, you'll immediately bump into some new asshole who jumps out of nowhere and can cut you down in 2-3 hits. Leveling doesn't make you tangibly stronger, it merely keeps the game barely playable.

This actually ends up being the core problem I have with Zelda II's design, far more than just the combat being clunky and overly punishing or the levels being visually samey and super hard to navigate. In most Zelda games (and also in a lot of other RPGs!), you get a better sword or a new power or item, and it opens up exciting new options for both exploration and combat. In Zelda II, you level up or earn a new item/spell, it's useful for maybe 20-30 minutes, and then it's immediately nullified. Wow, you got the Fire spell! Now you can finally deal with Tektites and Basilisks (which are immune to all other attacks) on the way to the next area! Well, I hope you had fun with that, because Fire doesn't work on most things you run into afterwards.

Easily the biggest game-changer is when you unlock the Downward Thrust sword technique, and finally have another option for combat besides just crouch-hopping and poking monsters with a dull butter knife. It's satisfying to use, it looks cool (by this game's standards), and it even has some utility for crossing hazards or defending yourself against swooping enemies! Cool! Unfortunately, they don't let you play around with that for long either, before nearly every enemy you see starts rolling up with helmets or shells that make them immune to attacks from above, and you never really get anything like that again (the Upward Thrust exists later, but it's far more situational and frankly not very fun or intuitive to use). Rather than feeling like you're being given tools to overcome challenges and stay above the difficulty curve, it feels like you're constantly just slightly underequipped for everything (even if you grind to earn extra stat levels) and any edge you're given is swiftly taken away from you. (Except the Reflect spell, which is ALWAYS a banger after you get it because it makes your shield Actually Do Its Damn Job after nearly every enemy starts shooting projectiles you can't block. Good work, Reflect spell.)

I feel like I grew up hearing plenty of people talk about the overall difficulty of Zelda II, though most of the complaints about its puzzles were surface-level jabs about the short cryptic NPC text, and none of that prepared me for just how ridiculously obtuse its mandatory puzzles/secrets can be. I genuinely have no idea how anyone would EVER find the Life spell - pretty much your ONLY source of healing outside of towns, since there are no hearts to pick up in this game - without some kind of guide. I was FURIOUS when I finally looked up where to find that lady's mirror and discovered that you have to walk into one of the houses, go over to the table that looks EXACTLY like every other table in every other house in the entirety of Hyrule, crouch, and press B, and you'll just pull the mirror out of nowhere. This type of interaction does not exist ANYWHERE else in the game and there's no in-game hint to indicate that you should try this. Absolutely maddening.

This and its predecessor are both games that seemingly expect you to have the physical manual on hand to help you find secrets, but at least in the first game, the way the game was designed was consistent enough that you COULD feasibly find your way to the end of it without a guide. Bombable walls in dungeons always being located in the center, things like that. It had rules and it could generally be trusted to follow them. Zelda II, in comparison, has a final level (the Great Palace) in which there are numerous rooms that look IDENTICAL and if you make one wrong turn you can go through the entire [very difficult and dangerous] dungeon on a path parallel to the one you need to be on, only to hit a dead end and be able to see the spot you're supposed to be reaching on the other side of a wall. Except you would also never KNOW you need to get there, because it looks like another dead end full of monsters but there's actually a completely invisible hole somewhere in the floor over there that drops you into the hallway leading towards the final boss. Also there is no map. TLoZ had a map. I don't know why this game doesn't have a map. Possibly because if you try to look up maps online, most of the dungeons feature non-Euclidean spaces? Idk, even a Super Metroid-style grid map would've done wonders here.

The combat is... fine? I truly don't understand how anyone thinks it's GREAT though. Zelda II is kind of like a version of Castlevania where you don't have a whip and instead have to stab everything at extremely short range, and also sometimes enemies have shields so you have to crouch sometimes to stop them from blocking you. It feels tense and high-stakes but only because, as I mentioned earlier, you really cannot afford to take stray hits in this game. Most enemies chew through your health at an alarming rate, even with the Shield spell active, and there's almost no way to replenish it unless you use a Life spell (which costs a huge chunk of your magic, possibly softlocking you if you end up in a place that requires other spells to progress). I got better at the combat over the course of my playthrough, but I never felt like I got good at it - most of my victories against strong enemies felt like pure luck and there were rarely consistent strategies for success. All of this combined with the fact that Zelda II has limited lives (and I mean LIMITED - there are only six 1-UPs in the entire game, which can each only be collected once) and getting a Game Over anywhere outside of the final palace will send you all the way back to the starting area, and it makes for an incredibly stressful experience. Even making use of savestates to lighten the fear of death can only do so much to improve it.

Overall, I think that Zelda II is a game that has a lot of really promising ideas, but then just absolutely flops when it comes to the execution. I didn't have a better way of organizing these but here are a few examples of elements I DID particularly like, even if they didn't always stick the landing:

I like the idea of the RPG leveling system in theory, but wish it was more empowering in practice and actually let the player make meaningful choices instead of just being required to survive. Choosing to hold off on a Life upgrade and instead save up just a little longer to boost your Attack feels awesome, until you time one of your inputs wrong and get destroyed. In a game with better-tuned difficulty and combat, this system would be great!

I REALLY like that Zelda II introduced a magic system to the series! I think it's cool as hell to have Link learning and casting spells to protect himself, solve puzzles, and exploit enemy weaknesses, instead of relying purely on items. (It's honestly weird to think that a system I associate so strongly with classic Zelda gameplay has only actually showed up in 4 of the games?? I guess you could consider the runes/hand abilities in BotW/TotK to be kind of like modern spells, or the slowly-refilling energy gauge in ALBW to be the most recent iteration of a Magic Meter, but both are highly debatable. Anyways I just think they should let Link shapeshift into a fairy again, that was cool.) But most of the spells in this are fairly situational and your access to magic refills is so limited that you rarely have the freedom to experiment with the spells' secondary functions (hey did you know the Spell spell turns most enemy types into slimes? that's wild. I wish I'd known that sooner).

The overworld functioning like a traditional JRPG, with top-down exploration broken up by semi-random enemy encounters, was something I honestly didn't hate. It's a little weird for Zelda, sure, but I could see it working well to support other systems in a more polished game. Overworld encounters that switch you into a type of gameplay other than turn-based JRPG combat are something I've always been fascinated by!

Anyways, weird game! I'm glad I finally got closure so I could figure out how I personally feel about it, independent of whatever the random youtubers I watched as a teenager thought. And now I never have to play it again :)

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Someone You Can Build a Nest In was, in fact, pretty good, but it went in a different direction than I was hoping for and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

The story follows Shesheshen, a solitary shapeshifting monster who hunts the travelers and merchants that pass through her territory, along with the occasional monster hunters who come to slay her. She is rather lonely, and reminisces fondly and lovingly about her mother, who was slain when she was young, and her father, whose body she grew inside and who she ate her way out of when she was ready to be born. On her hunts, she keeps an eye out for someone who might make for a similarly loving parent to plant her own eggs in. After a close encounter with some hunters while in a roughly human shape, Shesheshen is nurses back to health by a kind woman who has mistaken her for human, and promptly falls head over heels. Before she can get around to explaining her true nature and enquire about how her newly beloved would feel about being a parent, they are both drawn into a new and concerted effort to hunt down the local monster - Sheshen herself. Hijinks, of course, ensue.

The thing that immediately captured me when I started reading was how well the narration captured Shesheshen's fundamental inhumanity while still making her layered, complex, and intelligent. Her visceral emotional reactions are shaped by her biological nature as a predator, and these emotions lead to distinctly inhuman values and morals - Shesheshen places no intrinsic value on human lives and feels no compunctions whatsoever about eating sentient people. Her love and lust are consumptive in nature, and she romanticizes this. The fact that she cannot have her cake and eat it too is something she has difficulty dealing with. But she's also capable of a great deal of sympathy and empathy for specific humans, and the love she has for the father she ate causes her to care a great deal about consent - she doesn't want to consume out of love someone who doesn't want to be consumed.

In addition to her psychology, Shesheshen's physiology is also excellently inhuman and conveyed in great visceral detail, and the way her body functions is very interesting. My favorite parts of the book are the introduction and the denouement, because these are the areas where her psychology and physiology receive the most undivided attention. They aren't ignored throughout the rest of the book by any means, but they take a backseat to the plot, which is why I feel a bit conflicted about the book as a whole. I was really enjoying the in-depth character study of the introduction, and would've really liked to have the whole book be in that vein.

The plot, to be clear is not bad - it's honestly quite good, and it delves heavily into themes of generational and familial trauma, self-sacrifice, the normalization and romanticization of profound harm, and the difficulty of growth and self-actualization, all while being fairly entertaining and well-executed as a story. I think its themes were a bit heavy-handed in places, and I think some of its exploration was hobbled and flattened by the book's queernorm setting, but I won't relitigate that old argument here. It was suitably gripping and solidly entertaining.

I think the central relationship was solid and compelling, though again, I would've liked it more if the whole book had been focused on a deep exploration of their characters and dynamics. There's a lot of rich ground to the basic premise of "monster falls in love with human, wants to express that love in a way that is actively dangerous/horrifying to the human, doesn't know how to talk about it", and the story layers additional complexities onto that dynamic that are very compelling, but for as much of that interesting ground that the book explored, it left plenty more untouched. One detail that I did find both novel and enjoyable is that both the love interest Homily and Shesheshen herself are all but explicitly sex-averse asexuals by human standards, which is something I have not encountered in a lot of media. The exploration of that experience is not particularly deep because, again, queernorm, but it is present and it was compelling.

This was a really unique and compelling read, though, and I expect it to be one that stays with me. Given my own interest in body horror and inhumanity (shameless plug for Memoirs of a Flesh Eater in the notes), I wouldn't be surprised to see some influences from this book in my own writing going forward.

On the whole, I definitely enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend it, but not without a few warnings. Body horror is a constant element in this book; Shesheshen's shapeshifting is purposely off-putting, and she eats people. This is described in substantial detail. Also, there is a lot of parental and familial abuse depicted, much more than you would expect from the basic premise, so go in prepared. On the other hand, though, if you're looking for a true gothic horror tragic toxic doomed romance or a heavy character study that really plumbs the depths of an inhuman psyche, you will probably be frustrated by how close it comes to being that without actually being that.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Outbreak Pt 2 (LU in Healthcare)

Legend slurped on his energy drink, anxious to get to work. He and the entire night shift had been called in early to attend some training for this new virus that was potentially a problem. Administration mandated everyone attend to see how to don and doff personal protective equipment.

It was mildly exasperating, as it had cut into his sleep and he'd run out of time to really grab an actual breakfast. But whatever. He paid attention as best he could, leg starting to bounce with nervous energy. When his phone buzzed, he glance down, distracted.

The name Zelda was on the screen, and he immediately tuned out everything around him.

They hardly messaged each other, really. Birthday wishes, the occasional "are you alive" text, that was about it. It was hard to maintain much of a good relationship sometimes, given... well, everything.

Hey. So. I have this patient. Heart attack, CABG, pathway, blah. But he's got family who knows you?? I just want to make sure??? Like he seemed legit but still. Says he goes by Wild.

He... the heart attack patient from yesterday...

Shit.

Legend texted quickly, gaze flicking between his phone and the person wearing a gown in the front. Yeah, I know a few people named Link, so we go by nicknames.

His sister's reply was practically instantaneous. Still not over the fact that you call yourself Legend LOL you're so lame

Legend huffed, feeling his cheeks flush. THERE'S A REASON OK

Uh huh. Sure. So this Wild dude is legit then? I didn't let some random stranger into my pt's room yest right?

Sighing, Legend replied, Nah he's legit. Good guy. Wish he could've told me his dad was here.

Because it had to be his father, right? The more Legend thought about it, the more it made sense. The man looked just like Wild, except for being older and more worn out. He'd been reaching out to Wild, calling out his name, in a frenzy. Wild had been acting strange. The long drawn out gaze with Time. All of it.

"Legend."

Glancing up, the travel nurse saw Warriors standing over him, looking grim. "Uh... Wars, you good?"

"Hope you paid attention to the training," Warriors said. "That patient who got diagnosed with Arfy at the urgent care is here. You're taking him."

Legend blinked. "He's--he's here? Did he get worse?"

"Yeah. They're intubating him now."

Great. As if his stomach wasn't in knots already. Warriors gave Legend the room and said that would be his only patient to try and decrease cross contamination with other rooms. Legend ran the training demonstration in his head, now mildly panicked that he'd ignored some of it in lieu of talking to his sister, but it was fairly straightforward. Everyone was already masking as a precaution, he just needed to start wearing gowns and goggles and face shields too.

Time to get to work.

XXX

Wild paced in his bedroom, simultaneously annoyed and thankful that he had tonight off. Everyone had texted him by this point asking if he was alright, and while he appreciated the sentiment, he really had no way of conveying that he desperately wanted and needed to keep his past separate from his present.

He hardly knew his life before Castle Town. But what he did remember was enough. He couldn't--he couldn't go back to that life. He'd lost everyone, and it had been his fault. As his memories had come back, he'd doubled down on avoiding his past, including his family.

How could he possibly reconcile the old him with who he was now, after all? He just wanted to close that chapter of his life. He just wanted closure, period. He was terrified of seeing his family again. What would they think of him? How could he have left them like he had? How could he ever return to them?

He... he wanted to check on his father. But he knew by now the rest of his family was likely at the hospital, and he did not need to see them. Guilt twisted his gut as he stared out the window, watching the cows graze in the pasture.

Sighing, he went downstairs, catching sight of Malon watching the news. He distracted himself with asking her what was up, and she said, "There's ten more cases of Arfy in town."

Wild blinked. Ten? Hadn't there just been one yesterday?

That... didn't bode well.

Before Wild could comment, Wind skipped in, having mentioned he was dropping by for dinner. "Yo, you guys should see the picture Legend just sent me of this guy's chest x-ray!"

Wild and Malon both crowded around Wind's phone to look at th eimage, and Wild asked, "So what am I looking at?"

Malon hissed, staring at the image. "Those lungs look awful."

"Right?" Wind glanced up at the OR nurse. "I'm surprised they have any compliance."

Wild stared at the pair dully. "I take it it's bad."

"His lungs are shot," Wind emphasized. "Like... they look like they're rocks. Legend said they can barely get the guy to oxygenate."

Wild felt a new twinge of anxiety in his chest. This new illness had been tearing through some cities in the Gerudo Desert, and now that it was in Castle Town...

As if he didn't have enough to worry about. He sighed. Hopefully his father would get better quickly and his family would leave before anything truly terrible happened.

Hopefully nothing terrible would happen at all.

[dross-the-fish]

I've read your posts about the musical and I was curious. Do you dislike when adaptations change things? Do you think the changes made for the Phantom of the Opera musical work or no?

If you're going to make changes from the source material then you need to make sure those changes are cohesive or an improvement. By and large I feel like the ALW musical makes changes that don't really add or improve the story. Some of them aren't a big deal, like changing the managers names, Erik's deformity needed to be changed for practical reasons, general condensing of the plot to fit time frame. What doesn't work about it is cutting out the Daroga and giving his role to Madam Giry. It makes no sense that Giry knows so much about the phantom but isn't actively working harder to protect Christine from him. I also think it suffers from not having someone who tries to be Erik's voice of reason in the way the Daroga was in the book. While condensing is necessary to a point I feel like skipping over the whole week Christine and Erik spent together does them both a disservice and weakens their relationship. It's fine to leave things up to inference or to use a narrative short hand in some cases but having Christine immediately unmask him upon waking and then having him take her back in the very same scene with no indication that time passed feels very rushed IMO and it makes no sense that she's signing about the Phantom of the Opera being inside her mind when she still thinks he's her Angel of Music. I feel like a lot of people's defense boils down to "It looks pretty" or "it's about conveying emotion!" but how can either of those things matter if the story isn't cohesive and the characters feel flat? The only times I feel ANYTHING for Christine at all are during "Wishing you were some how here again" and the "Final Lair" That said I think most of the second act is fairly strong. I do like how the musical conveys the way Erik haunts the Opera House and the rehearsal for Don Juan Triumphant is one of my favorite moments in the 25th anniversary special. I'm not as assed about the changes made to Raoul from the book, I think musical Raoul is...fine. I don't love him and I don't like how some of the actors portray him but in context he works well enough. I do wish they'd stuck with him vehemently not wanting Christine to sing for Erik and Christine being the one to insist because she wants to say good bye. I feel like as much as the musical leans into Erik and Christine having something between them they did cut out a lot of things that would make a mutual attraction feel at least somewhat credible. Yeah you can have all the longing looks and loaded with innuendo lyrics you want but if you don't make your female protagonist more of an active participant in her own story it just makes it look like she's giving in to manipulation. I really hate how she's left begging Raoul "Please don't make me do this, he scares me!" and everyone around her kind of goes "You have to because he's going to keep killing if you don't," when there was a much better alternative already in cannon of Christine caring about Erik enough to want to sing for him one more time.

[trazodone100mg]

I'm about to start reading the light novel version of The Summer Hikaru Died, and before I do I want to get a few questions and thoughts about the series and his character out of my head since it's been nagging me.

When did Hikaru die? I've been thinking about this recently. The start of the story takes place in the summer, six months after the 'real' Hikaru has already died. I'm going off of memory alone so the details are fuzzy, but I'd like to go back and reference the manga at some point to see if any dates are listed or months named. If the summer season spans late June to late September, that would mean Hikaru died in January to April, most likely in the winter, early spring at latest. If I remember right, it was rainy and cold when Yoshiki found Hikaru's body.

The 'summer' Hikaru died could be non-literal, as in Hikaru has been dead all this time, but the person Yoshiki knew didn't begin to fully disappear and be replaced in his heart until his suspicions were confirmed that day outside the convenience store. Hikaru didn't truly die until Yoshiki--the first person to find out--was allowed to properly grieve for him over the summer the story takes place. It gets philosophical from there; what is death, and what does it really mean to 'die' in a situation like this? Etc.

I would have a few questions if the story intends to take a more literal path, however, starting first and foremost with, "If Hikaru dies in the summer, does that mean Hikaru hasn't died yet?"

When we consider the title The Summer Hikaru Died, are we only considering the 'real' Hikaru?

I know the Japanese uses different characters in the spelling of the character's name to differentiate between the 'real' Hikaru and 'Hikaru', and Yoshiki does this in his head. Which spelling does the title of the series use? All genuine questions that may hold no water, but has been interesting to think about.

I also have pretty strong feelings about Hikaru's character, if you couldn't tell. And not just 'Hikaru', but the 'real' Hikaru and how his understated and very grounded characterization and emotions inform the 'Hikaru' we know. I think the author is extremely talented to be able to convey so much about him when we have been shown so little of him so far, and I think I understand him fairly well.

The most important thing to note right off the bat; I believe Yoshiki's feelings for the 'real' Hikaru were mutual. Which, I didn't at first! And Yoshiki certainly thought his feelings were completely one-sided as well. But after contemplating their characters and the dialogue, I've come to believe that their depth makes it easy to misinterpret.

I will once again insert a disclaimer that I am working on memory alone, so feel free to correct me at any point if I am mistaken, but my reasoning is as follows:

In the oneshot pilot that serves as a first draft of the series, 'Hikaru' explains when asked that he likes Yoshiki and believes his new body played a major role in influencing his feelings, since it already liked Yoshiki before he came to occupy it. As the 'real' Hikaru is dying, he regrets that he is unable to tell Yoshiki how he really feels, and asks the entity that possesses him to tell Yoshiki that he likes him, too. 'Hikaru' also mentions the curse; that the Indou's lovers are inevitably stolen away, that it has happened in the past between two men (which, on an only semi-related note, I have a ton of other questions I won't even touch here about the previous generation of Indous and Tsujinakas, and this may be entirely off-base but I can't shake the feeling there was...something similar going on between Yoshiki's emotionally distant father and Hikaru's dad, who was his best friend), and that the 'real' Hikaru saw himself reflected in that and was frightened by it.

But that was all a part of the first draft of the story, and we know not everything carried over to the story we know now. But I do believe we can still use it to gain some insight into the author's intent.

Yoshiki describes the 'real' Hikaru as mature and not oft to show big emotions. He wasn't the type to cry, but I have come to interpret his character as somewhat numbed and depressed, and the type to deflect with humor. Here's what I think did carry over; 'Hikaru' certainly likes Yoshiki (in his own, unique way), but in dialogue expresses that he's unsure if those feelings are entirely his own, and doesn't know what pieces belong to who between the two individuals known as Hikaru. The 'real' Hikaru was scared of his feelings for Yoshiki, for a few reasons. He could become a victim of the Indou family curse, he wouldn't be able to marry Yoshiki to prevent the curse befalling him given that they are both men (Hikaru's father makes it a point to tell him that the only way to stop the curse is to marry the one you love quickly), and growing up in the country, they have witnessed second-hand the consequences of not conforming in a town where everyone knows everyone's business (more than once, but specifically: "He's not sick, he's a homosexual.")

Hikaru's father was dead, he most likely felt that he needed to suppress his feelings of love for his best friend and had no way to move forward (my mind always goes back to how Hikaru, in a flashback at the start of vol. 1, turns away from Yoshiki when telling him he could probably find a girlfriend easily if he only tried), and carried the burden of performing whatever their family ritual entailed. He didn't commit suicide, but he died carelessly and only regretted that he would be leaving Yoshiki alone, as he was the only other person to truly understand how Yoshiki felt. And maybe his death was one means of protecting Yoshiki since he couldn't deny his feelings for him.

[lesbiansforboromir]

What are your thoughts on how they portrayed Fréaláf in War of the Rohirrim? I have questions about the backstory behind this exceptionally well put together guy who doesn't look quite like he matches the rest of the population of Rohan and goes by a matronymic surname. Did Hild marry a Gondorian Prince or noble, or perhaps did she marry abDunlending as part of a peace treaty and then fled back to Meduseld to raise her son when it fell apart. I love him but I want to know more about the decisions they made about his character.

NOW it's kind of funny because up until this ask my brain had just assumed it was declared somewhere that they had given Frealaf a gondorian father. But I actually cannot think of a particular instance where it is anything but implied... STILL I am fairly sure that was the intention.

His knowledge of the haradrim is probably the clearest nod to me, but there are all the wretched themactic implications they give him too. Like he's 'peaceable', softly spoken, he does not 'love war' 😒, he's basically a film-faramir copy-paste, except that he does display some prowess in combat and when he leads a charge of horsemen it's not at a brick wall. It IS down that goddamn horse-killing hill they love so much but we all have to suspend our horse logic for Tolkien media, it is known. So actually it's a little more book!faramir, Frealaf even gets his own watered down 'think better of me father' moment with Helm too, "my sword is yours if you ask for it 😔 it's so hard to be the most correct person in the room 😔 but I'm so noble and modest about it-" I have to stop being mean, he's nice I did like him.

ALSO it would line up with film!Helm's attempt to marry his daughter off to a Gondorian prince if he also married his sister off to a gondorian prince, and she was so '''safe''' and '''protected''' there as to encourage him to do it again.

Another reason I think he's supposed to be part Gondorian is because he takes the place of Gondor by the end of the film. In book-canon it's actually Beregond who breaks the siege on Helms Deep, whilst Frealaf is retaking Edoras. There is a significant amount of time where he and Beregond are working together to win what was almost a lost war in the rest of Rohan. BUT GONDOR JUST DOESN'T GO TO WAR EVER APPARENTLY SO HAHA WE CAN FORGET ABOUT THAT <3 uvu ... No actually this might be one of the only changes the film makes which I like, it is way more impactful and important for Frealaf to have this final victory. Kind of a no-brainer. BUT THE POINT IS it would be sort of a cohesive nod to book-canon for Frealaf to be part gondorian when he's taking gondor's place in thee narrative, if you see what I mean.

In terms of the matrilineal name usage, I do not particularly agree with it's being a term used for him pre-kingship. Like the reason he is remembered as "Hildsson" in the annuls of history is to define him as the beginning of the second line of rohir kings, ie not Helm's son, which would be a completely superfluous thing to do before all Helm's heirs have died. Honestly I still can't quite believe how absent Hild was in this supposedly feminist interpretation of this story, she is by far the character I want to hear from the most out of any of them. BUT YEAH LIKE, I guess within the narrative it's a useful way to convey information to the viewer and I should not be so grumpy about it.

The questions I have about Frealaf and his history that I most want answered are; Is his mother dead or just still living in Gondor? When did Frealaf come back to Rohan? WHY did he come to Rohan, was it a sense of duty? Belonging? What does his father think? Is his Father still alive? Or did both his father AND mother die for him to be fostered by Helm at a young age? I dont think so, since Frealaf is familiar with Gondorian military information (haradrim and so forth) so it feels like he is more familiar with Gondor in an adult capacity. But I do feel like his father is not alive? IDK!!

Later on Prince Thengel, Theoden's father, will run away from home and be fostered in Gondor because his father's a monster, and then marry a Gondorian noblewoman. But that is not for a very long time. So, depending upon how you read the historical relations between Gondorian and Rohir nobility, Frealaf's parentage could be exceedingly unique for the timeframe, and he would likely be oft compared to Eldacar in Gondor (King whose non-dunedain mother caused a civil war in Gondor incited by eugenicist outrage). So like!! Frealaf could have a lot of complex experiences and emotions surrounding his family, his sense of self, of who he is, of his attachment to one land or another. Like it was probably particularly painful for Frealaf to hear Helm tell him he was no kin of his, when the lingering dunadain supremacists in Gondor might have made him feel just as outcast there.

I hope there was a satisfying answer for you in there somewhere! :)

[moosh2727]

I FINALLY GOT ACCESS TO ISSUE 71 OMG

this took forever but finally i get to see him!! spoilers ahead :3

first of all, amazing cover. jet and the gang look amazing just in that one snippet

extreme gear dodgeball... thats interesting, reminds me of the multiplayer modes in riders zg that was not racing but fun!

HOW DARE YOU MAKE MY BOY ANGRY wave helping jet focus is nice like in zero gravity 💚

the rouges being in shock is always so funny, im glad to see wave and storm join in on the fun 💚

WOAHHH LOL dang sonic's going hard!!

i now headcannon wave has a mindfullness youtube video she makes jet begrudgingly watch LOL 💚

i love seeing them using their gear more, it fuels my autism 💚💚💚

THIS IS SO FREAKING FUNNY I LOVE IT, AND HOW DARE SHE CRASH IN JETS GEAR!! anyway love him /p 💚

AMAZING I WANNA SEE HIM ANGRYYY, BEAT THEM UP JET!!! 💚100 gonna use this part for art ref because it looks so good

the silence is so loud in this picture i love it, i wonder what jets gonna do? 😊

oh my gosh this is so heartbreaking actually what the heck- ALSO WAVE TELLING JET TO RUN IS SO ON POINT

the story telling via art is on point, theres not much words needed to convey the emotions the characters are feeling

THEY HAVE A NEW ROOM, I REPEAT THEY HAVE A KITCHEEEEEEEEN, storm being the cook fits so well i love it.

the food (curry im guessing) fits their background and double points for looking extra yummy.

jet's first sentence fits him so well, im really glad they're doing good depiction with him and everything relating to them, considering the idw special where jewel broke her wing SUCKED because of idw ppl not thinking about where jet lives on the ship, so they made it SUPER inacurate.

it makes me happy to see storm contributing and not being a stupid fat joke like in free riders. we need to appreciate this silly guy who got brain damage from amy hitting him many times, and he still manages to fulfil jets orders.

storm doing this with his eyes is as good as his eyes in free riders, but way better than his weird blink in the zero gravity black hole cutscene

jet being ahead of the game and i love it!!! NEW MISSION LETS GOOO!!!!!! 💚💚💚💚

these riders designs are really helping me in the future with my own oc 🫶

OMG THE WIFE OF THE TRAIN CONDUCTOR FROM MURDER OF SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!!!

ouch my heart

oh gosh thats so sweet but sad ugh

jet has become more thoughtful! i just hope he doesn't lose his edge, but even if he does i'll love him anyway /p 💚

i love how much talented ppl are in this community, im so glad for more jet content via idw and fan creations. jet needs all the praise and love. 💚

Overall i loved this idw issue, i can always make the excuse " use more jet content!" but they did a really good job with expressing all the characters fairly. (still, i still want more jet tho :P)

i waited so long for this issue its crazy, idk why it took so long to come out digitally since i don't have the money to buy them in person.

knowing more rooms, might create an accurate layout of their blimp soon!

anyway, i got a gaming pc and not a stupid mac earlier this week, meaning that i can finally play free riders yayy!!!

[lurkingshan]

Theory of Love Special: Stand By Me

We made it, folks! The Theory of Love romcom rewatch is officially over, and it was such a fun ride. I really liked revisiting this show to both confirm what I already knew--the main friends to lovers story between Third and Khai is excellent and the side plots still suck--and to add some new layers to my understanding of what the show was conveying with its themes. In the first half especially, the films the episodes called to were so tightly tied to the show's narrative, and though that got looser in the back half, there were still insights to glean throughout. This project also helped me understand that Third has atrocious taste and terrible media literacy and made me grateful that Khai is the screenwriter in their HOD production company.

For this last week, we watched Stand By Me, a famous coming of age film that I knew was very beloved, but that unfortunately was extremely Not for Shans, as my friend @shortpplfedup would say. The plot was fairly simple and not all that relevant to TOL:

Gordie finds out his old childhood friend Chris has died in a violent incident. This prompts him to reminisce about a childhood adventure they took along with their friends Teddy and Vern to locate the missing body of a dead boy near their home in Oregon so they can gain recognition. What follows is a series of mishaps as they try to find the body and avoid the local toughs who are also looking for it while working through the traumas of their young lives. As Gordie writes his recollection of this time together, he reflects on how those boys were the best friends he ever had.

This movie repulsed me on a visceral level. I recognize that it did what it intended to do pretty well, and yet I could barely stand to watch it. Perhaps it was just far too much white male violence for me to stomach. Whatever the case, I am not going to spend much time unpacking it. Its connection to the TOL special is quite tenuous, and the show mostly just wanted to reference its title, not its themes.

Because this special is all about Khai and Third standing by each other and learning how to be in a functional relationship. After the flash forward in the finale that showed us they were still together and going strong years later, in this special we flash back to the time between them getting together and that future to see how they got there. And it wasn't easy! When they first got together, Third was plainly still hanging onto his anger about the past and intent on punishing Khai, and their relationship felt pretty imbalanced as a result. Khai put up with all of it and seemed to feel he deserved it because he used to sleep around (a message I don't love). And so when Khai gets assaulted by another rude girl in a bar, he panics and tries to hide it from Third, fearing Third won't believe him.

I appreciated that as this all unraveled, we got to see not only how Khai has come to prioritize honesty with Third, but also how Third has matured as a partner. He never believed that Khai betrayed him, and he wasn't worried about this new girl who was causing trouble. When he and Khai finally talked about it, he made sure Khai knew he loves him and he is committed to their relationship, and small bumps like this are not going to threaten that. I wish he had owned up and said he was sorry for how he acted the last time they faced a situation like this rather than acting like Khai was crazy for thinking he'd be mad, but Third is not one for self-awareness and reflection. Given who they are, it felt like real progress for them and a paradigm shift in their relationship and trust in each other from that point on.

And with that, Third and Khai settled into a truly happy relationship and began building their lives together. After so much pain, it was healing to see a Third that looked so full of joy, and to see them find more of a balance in their relationship. By the time the special ends, they truly feel like life partners who are prepared to face the world together, and both seem secure about their commitment. To cap it all off, Third finally proves he understood a film when he tells Khai he is in fact not the Jeab to his Noi Nah, because those two didn't end up together and Third fully intends to spend his life with Khai.

Ah, what a pleasure it was to revisit this show. Shoutout to @bengiyo for suggesting rewatching alongside the films, to @twig-tea, @happypotato48, @neuroticbookworm and @solitaryandwandering for keeping up with the weekly watch alongside us, and to those who followed along! It was a fun project and I'm glad we did it together.

[utilitycaster]

I can’t help but feel that the people who are complaining about the people criticizing this campaign are the types that are going to be pissed if BH does just kill Predathos and lets the gods live, especially if that comes at the cost of some supposed deserved happy ending for their faves. And what’s maybe ironic is that I feel that an ending in which BH choses to save the gods, the campaign does rise a bit in my esteem, and might in the eyes of some other critics as well, as it would, i dunno, maybe play into these themes of forgiveness and love and overcoming resentment that keep being used as a defense of this campaign and these characters? 

Anyway, godspeed on the quest to find good faith arguments on why this campaign is excellent. would genuinely like to see one.

Oh definitely. Like...look. I hope I conveyed the point of "I don't particularly think either of us are approaching this with a deep respect for the other, but we can at least make a polite fiction of good faith that, if you actually can come up with an argument that assumes that, I will accept in genuine good faith" and so in that interest I'm trying to scale back on attacking people. But also...I've been down this road before. When people complained about how bad Campaign 2 was, firstly, it specifically took hold either right after a ship competing with theirs became canon or at least was strongly hinted towards; or was in response to Molly not coming back; and secondly a lot of this happened after they'd been effusive in their praise for the campaign up until that point. Whereas for Campaign 3 you can, if you actually wished to do the research, go to my blog or most of my mutuals' blogs and do an archive dig and trace the optimism and excitement turning into skepticism turning into "yeah, this ain't it chief" with fairly consistent complaints (poor pacing, plot-character mismatches, indecision, failure of the characters to ever really challenge each other meaningfully in a way that leads to growth) throughout, coupled with, if I am being honest, a massive deal of grace and patience and "maybe this is the course correction" that was not always earned. Dorym becoming canon did not shift this among the many people who like Dorym and also think the campaign isn't very good, myself included, so I don't really think it's shipping wank that's the problem. I'm not inclined to respect arguments that either, 118 episodes into a campaign that's very close to its end, demand I consider its ~potential~. I have. It has, for the most part, failed to deliver over the course of those 118 episodes.

If a common complaint within the fandom of people who have watched hundreds of hours of this story is "it's unclear what story it is telling and the party is aimless" and small pockets and echo chambers are like NO YOU DON'T GET IT...I don't want to say its impossible for this to happen and that the majority is automatically correct, but were I an outside observer I know where I'd place money in a bet.

And yes, I agree. I think a lot of of the people defending it are either, to be very blunt, in a sunk cost fallacy situation/dedicated to a certain level of contrarianism more so than having their own opinions that exist independent of the fandom; or believe it will give them a happy ending for their faves or validate their belief the gods should die or they just want Exandria to burn at this point for whatever reason. I don't feel it's actually something that follows from the narrative, which, as this post so aptly puts, is just kind of sailing towards the rocks while the crew sort of bickers and doesn't do anything. It feels like the most satisfying endings possible are either achieving what the gods couldn't and destroying this existential threat for once and for all (in which case the gods survive, and hey, they actually did take a third option that no one was really talking about, the indecision was still boring as fuck but at least there's a scrap of payoff), or tragedy befalling them (loss of party members, killing a large swath of Exandria) as a consequence. And neither of those are what they want, which is like. the abstract concept of change and the less abstract and deeply unflattering concept of killing everyone who didn't give you what you wanted.

It is in fact unsurprising that the arguments in the fandom are the way they are. Wow I wonder why people who think "I asked this person for something and they didn't answer so I think letting loose an endless hunger entity to eat them" is a good and noble thing to do can't handle the idea that existing in the world means you and things you like will receive criticism, and other people won't just do what you want if you whine loudly enough.

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Ficfinder finds: Built to Kill, Sworn to Protect

Chapter 1

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55112992/chapters/139741759

(Will fix the link once embeds work again)

Rottmnt Fanfic Summary: Leo always felt a different from his brothers. He was stronger, faster, and more violent than his brothers. Unlike his brothers, he was a natural-born fighter. Thankfully he was good at hiding it. Everything was fine until he did something he'd forever regret and lose the trust of his brothers.

Chapter 1: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is written by @arhintess so go show them some love and support!!

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Plot is three out of five!! As this is the first chapter, there isn't much plot. There is however, foreshadowing, and a cliffhanger!!"

Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Suspense/Mystery is three out of five!! Once again, not much plot is going on, but this chapter ends right on a cliffhanger, which really helps build that suspense!!"

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Angst/Hurt is two out of five!! The bulk of this chapter has minimal angst, as its a fairly short chapter. The main amount of angst is in the end, during the cliffhanger."

Fluff/Comfort: 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is zero out of five!! This chapter really focuses more on starting the plot and starting out the angsty story line, so no comfort."

Emotions Conveyed: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is one out of five!! This chapter is a fairly neutral read when it comes to influencing emotions. Its more of a starting point to a plot, rather than a heart wrenching chapter."

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Drama/Tension Level is three out of five!! In this fic, as it has canon divergence, Leo has a lot of tension between him and his brothers, as he doesn't have the 'best' relationship with them. Along with that, the cliffhanger at the end adds a lot of drama as well."

Triggers: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Triggers are one out of five!! This chapter, as its a beginnings chapter, it doesn't have a lot of triggers. The main ones to keep an eye out for, are blacking out, and unintentional sibling abuse. Remember to read the tags and stay safe!!"

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Legibility (Reading) is four out of five!! Over all this chapter is a fairly good and vanilla read. Some of the formatting makes it a little tricky to follow along with, though it certainly doesn't take away from the plot!!"

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Legibility (Audio) is four out of five! Same exact as stated above! Great chapter, just a little hard to follow along to due to formatting ^^"

Length: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Length is one out of five!! This chapter runs on the shorter side, taking about 7-8 minutes to listen to."

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Next Chapter ->

Built to Kill, Sworn to Protect: Ratings and Chapter List

Personal thoughts on chapter below cut (Contains Spoilers)

"Yes, I'd also like to know." Came the voice of his younger twin brother. While Donnie didn't have a lot of trouble doing these exercises, his performance tends to drop when away from his electronics for a prolonged period of time. A problem Donnie has because their dad forbids the use of technology during training. "I can feel myself start to develop hives from all this physical activity."

You can actually develop hives from exercise! I had to look it up, and apparently its a real thing. "Exercise-induced urticaria is an allergic skin reaction brought on by exercise. It generally produces hives and other allergic symptoms. The hives, or welts, are large, raised bumps on the skin. They can occur on any part of the body. They often are redder around the edge than in the middle. Hives also can look like red spots, blotches, or blisters."

Whenever he and his brothers would fight or spar, Leo would always know exactly where to strike and when. He hated how much he had to hold back against his brothers. Not because he wanted a tough fight, but because he knew he'd hurt them if he didn't. On some days, like today, he had to really put effort into holding back.

This is actually something you can develop for yourself if you practice enough. Knowing exactly where to hit I mean. As humans are natural predators, we have a natural instinct to strike where its weak. So If you learn to finetune that instinct, you'll actually get really good at it. Most professional fighters and/or martial artists are quite good at it.

"I also must take a rain check, Lee. I'm nearly done with the prototype of my tech-bo." There was a manic glint in his eyes that made Leo shudder.

Ooh, this is before Donnie had his titanium tech-bo!

What? Blinking his eyes a few times, he suddenly saw Raph, towering over him with his fists raised. His eyes were fierce and full of anger. "W-what do you…mean…" Looking past Raph, he saw Mikey. Or rather, Mikey's unconscious and bloody body. "W-what happened…?" "W-what happened? You happened! You were on top of Mikey, hurting him! I had to rip you off of him to get you to stop!" "W-what?"

Oh gosh, the sudden switch up is so jarring!! From Leo just having fun, to losing himself entirely!! Such a cliffhanger!!

[disneyfairiesparadise]

Okay guys, there’s this one deleted fanfiction I remember reading back in the day that I REALLY want to find again. I’m fairly certain it was posted after Secret of the Wings came out but before the Pirate Fairy, since I’m fairly certain Zarina wasn’t in it. Here’s some more info via a forum post I did:

I remember most of the exact plot and most of the title. I don't remember the author, but the story was either called "Words of the Heart" or "Words From the Heart" and it's about Lizzie, who is under peer pressure from her friend Mary (who later becomes the mother of Wendy, Michael, and John) and to make her happy, declares that she doesn't believe in fairies. Well, as I'm sure you all know, whenever someone says that, a fairy somewhere dies. And according to the healing talents in Pixie Hollow, the fairy usually affected is one that the particular human has seen, which as we all know, is Tinkerbell! She at the moment is playing a game of fairy tag (I think) with her friends when she feels an unbearable pain in her stomach and her wings glow red.

Periwinkle, who is delivering winter to the mainland and actually witnesses Lizzie saying that, feels the pain and experiences the red light as well, but it quickly fades. She realizes that Tinkerbell must be dying! By now, Tinkerbell is at the hospital, and the healing talents say that the human who saw her must not have been sincere with her words. Sadly, it only prolongs the inevitable: Tinkerbell WILL die. Vidia goes to the mainland to get Lizzie and to convey the seriousness of the situation through charades (and in doing so Mary sees her as well,) and once they understand, they head to Neverland. Meanwhile, Peri has found a spell that will save her sister, but at the cost of her own life. She goes to Tinkerbell, performs the spell, and dies. Tink wakes up and sobs over her sister's body.

By then, the two humans have reached Pixie Hollow, and it is thanks to Mary's belief in her heart that fairies are real, that Peri comes back to life. We also learn that Queen Clarion also had a sister who died due to using that spell as well to save her! The final chapter, (which I think is either nine or ten,) is a diary page from Mary, who has now grown up, affirming her continued belief in fairies. Do any of you know who wrote it, or if they reposted it somewhere else?