#but i would like to see them do doubles again

[araybiaaa]

❝ blinded by you.❞  ‎ modern! elias ‘stack’ moore x black!fem oc

ooo. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔… jealousy, insecurity, reconciliation sex, possessive!sex, overstimulation, alternative universe, modern!au, vaginal fingering, explicit language, brief use of the n-word (probably more but this is all i can think of.)

ooo. 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔… after an argument, stack shows his girlfriend just how much she means to him.

ooo. 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔… decided to write another modern!stack x reader au. (this doesn’t follow the other stack fic that i posted. this is a standalone!!) they might come off as a little toxic at first but oh well lmao. there’s not really a plot to this either. i just wanted to write possessive sex 😭

she’s tired.

not just physically; although the callouses and blisters plumped on her feet from the over exertion of working double shifts all week and studying relentlessly for her exams would infer otherwise. but her mental exhaustion derived from her current relationship issues with stack.

it seemed like an unrelenting cycle in their relationship; things would be good for a brief period of time then stack would do something to interfere their happiness, causing unnecessary arguments that usually ended with him leaving for a few nights until enough time passed and he would come back begging for her forgiveness so that he could return home. and ironically enough, while her relationship with stack started to become strained, she became seemingly closer to jordan—a classmate of hers. there’s always been a camaraderie between them, but recently she found that it’d become way easier to confide in him rather than stack.

“thanks again for coming over to talk.” he stood athwart from her as she stood in the doorway with her hand on the knob and her body leaned against the frame. he came by an hour ago just to check in on her; offering her an ear to vent to in her time of need.

jordan chuckled, “well you did most of the talkin’, i just listened.” he says with a shrug that has bianca playfully rolling her eyes at his sarcastic technicality.

“regardless,” she laments, “thanks.”

jordan nodded as his eyes held her gaze in an unwavering expression. he parted his mouth open like he wanted so say something to her but his mouth’s closing shut just as quickly as hesitation prevents him from doing so.

instead, he harrumphs thickly before giving her one last brief look. “alright, i’ll see you later.” he says as he’s walking away, disappearing down the corridor towards the elevator.

bianca remained standing there as she cranes her neck outwardly into the hallway so that she could watch jordan. he’s standing at the elevator, his shoulders are sullenly slouched over and his hands rubbing against the back of his neck in an almost sheepish and defeated manner. it piques her curiosity and she’s contemplating on calling him back to inquire what exactly it was that he wanted to ask her but the sight of stack sauntering off the elevator as soon as it stops on her apartment floor has her immediately efuting against it.

when stack walks out, he takes off his sunglasses and gauges a narrowed look over at jordan; snarling his face in a scowl. his eyes peer towards the apartment at her before eventually looking back over at jordan. “i know you just didn’t come out of my house visiting my girl.” stack condemned as he approaches jordan. his demeanor is haughty and clearly confrontational.

jordan scoffs, undaunted by stack’s bravado as he waved a dismissive hand at him. “maybe if you treated your girl right then i wouldn’t have to be over here.”

“what?” stack accents, now stepping in jordan’s face sizing him up with his hands clenched in a fist at his side.

“elias!” bianca walks out into the hallway and approaches the two of them, deciding to interject before the situation escalated into a fight.

the last thing she needed was two grown ass men fighting outside of her apartment. she grabbed stack by the arm and attempted to tug him towards the apartment but he resisted against her and continued his preying intimidation on jordan. and her annoyance at both stack and jordan is prevalent because jordan seems amused by stack’s anger, choosing to indulge in further provoking him instead of retreating.

“elias, let’s go. now.” she avers sternly, pulling on his arm again, this time more forcefully as she begins walking to the apartment.

he smacks his teeth as he allows bianca to drag him away but that doesn’t prevent him from giving jordan one last look and referring to him as “bitch ass nigga,” as they walked off. before either one of them has the opportunity to utter another word, bianca’s pushing stack into the apartment and closing the door behind them.

“so, that’s what we doin’, b?” stack asks, his confrontation is immediate as he unfurls his anger onto her now. “i told you that i didn’t want him over here and you still invitin’ him over like you just don’t give a damn about what i say!”

bianca narrowed her eyes at stack as she tucked her arms over her chest. she didn’t appreciate his tone or the fact that he was suggesting that he had any say so over who she couldn’t allow over her house.

“jordan’s my friend, elias—”

“friend,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “yeah, well your friend wants to fuck you. but i guess you’re too blind to see that.” he proclaims, looking at her challengingly like he’s waiting for her to deny or confirm his statement.

and this time, it’s bianca who scoffs, annoyed and angry at his petulant behavior. she walks past him as she makes her way towards the stairs.

she refused to do this with him. she was tired of it. tired of feeling like she’s the only one who actually cares enough to try to salvage what’s left of this relationship. if he continued to act like this, then she saw no reason to trying to talk. but this only seemed to provoke stack even further as he nodded and chuckled wryly as he followed behind her. “why was he over here, bianca?”

she rolls her eyes and began walking up the stairs. “goodbye, elias.”

“b-”

“leave. get your shit and get out of my house.” she avers, turning around so that they’re now face to face. he’s standing directly in front of her; both of their chests are heaving from the anger that’s brewing inside of them—stack’s eyes are narrowed and unwavering but bianca remained just so, refusing to feed into his intimations.

she didn’t want to kick him out, in all honesty she missed him. but after two days of being gone and coming back just to start another argument with her, instead of apologizing had infuriated her.

“your house?”

she nodded, defiant. “yes, mine. because i’m tired of this.”

his jaw twitches and he takes another step closer to her on the stairs, moving closer to where they’re now practically standing nose to nose. his eyes somehow seemingly darken and much to her dismay, it actually turns her on. she inwardly reprimands herself for it but she couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked when he was jealous.

maybe her hormones were unfurled because it’s been almost a month since they’ve last had sex and it’s all been simmering inside of her to the point where she needs to release all of the pent up sexual frustration. or maybe some part of her secretly like the fact that stack was jealous of her spending time with jordan.

(it proved that he still cared about her, that he didn’t totally disregard their relationship like she assumed he did. because he would go days without kissing her and hadn’t made any efforts in initiating sex with her for so long, that she thought that his attraction for her had surceased all together. that he didn’t want her anymore.)

part of her wants to provoke him further.

just to see how he’d react.

“you really want me gone?”

“what i want is for you to get your shit together and start acting like my boyfriend again. but if you can’t do that then—” all bianca knows is that she’s being pulled towards him. it’s haste and she’s barely standing steadily on her feet as she balances on the edge of the stairs where stack’s standing. she gasps at the abruptness of his agility, barely having time to realize what’s going on before he’s leaning his head down to kiss her. it’s filthy and rough—the taste of liquor is fresh on his hot breath—his teeth are clashing against hers, nipping at the skin on her bottom lip as he continued to ravish her.

bianca swallows her words, absentmindedly, her body loosens as she succumbs to his onslaught. she mewls at the greediness and neediness of his kisses, how his tongue tastes every inch of her mouth until she’s prying it open and giving him more access to deepen it.

his hands reach down and squeeze at her ass cheeks through the pair of sleep shorts that she’s wearing, pulling her body closer so that she’s flush up against him. bianca whimpers as she feels his fingers knead at the plush flesh.

she knows that they need to talk.

their relationship couldn’t be solved with a quick fuck but she chooses to momentarily disregard their unresolved issues. instead, focusing on stack’s insistent kisses and the way his hands are fondling her ass cheeks.

“elias,” she moans, standing on the tip of her toes so that she’s able to wrap her arms around his heightened neck and pull his body closer so that they’re aligned. he groans, deep and guttural before bending his knees slightly as he slid his hands underneath her thighs and hefted her up into the air so that she’s perched in his lap with her legs wound around his waist.

he turns them around and walks back down the stairs where he’s walking them into the living room. bianca’s legs tighten around him, her thighs squeeze together as she seeks friction.

he maneuvers his way into the living room, lowering her down onto the couch. he hovered over her as he nudged her legs open with his knee. bianca whimpers in his mouth, choking on a gasp as he teased pressure against her cunt.

she thrusted against his knee, continuing to seek after the stimulating pleasure that began to gather in her lower abdomen. stack pried his mouth away from hers with a loud pop. bianca blinks her eyes open and stares at him hazily through her bleared vision, avidly watching and waiting.

he withdraws his knee from against her and instead, lowered his mouth to her stomach where the sleekness of her exposed skin peeked from underneath the cropped shirt that she was wearing. stack’s big, luscious and kiss-swollen lips decorated her belly with soft kisses, his mouth soft and delicate against her skin.

“you wore this around him?” he murmurs through what sounded like a growl and a vehement reproach. his mouth depressed lower to where he was now hovering over the waistband of her shorts. she whimpered and thrusted her hips off of the couch, the gesture unmistakably telling him to touch her already but stack continued with his prolonged foreplay that was beginning to feel like torture.

“elias!” biting on her bottom lip in frustration, she thrusted her hips upward again, this time attempting to tug her shorts down over her hips herself to further along the anticipation. but stack interjects her efforts as he places his hand over hers, haltering her movements.

he removed his mouth from over her stomach and looked up at her again, his expression stern. “i’m the only one that’s allowed to touch you,” he avers, still holding her gaze while his hand raffishly reached between her legs and palmed her pussy.

bianca shivered, her breath catching in the back of her throat as she bit on her lower lip. his hands cupped her firmly with his thumb sliding down the slit of her cunt until it glides over her clothed clit; teasing, torturous in his movements. “b-baby!”

“this is my pussy,” his thumb moved in an undulating motion against her; he presses harder the sensitive nub making her cunt jump at the delicious stimulation. “you got that, b?”

she nods, biting so hard on her lower lip that she could taste the coppery bitterness of blood stinting from the bruise. “yes,” her breathing is shaky, a few tenors below from being labored. her chest is heaving and her eyes are stinging with tears. his hands felt so much better than hers did. touching herself only provided her minimal satisfaction—she’d cum every time but it was nothing compared to how stack makes her cum.

she could feel the gusset of her underwear go sticky from her arousal as she continued to grind against the palm of his hands, desperate and shaking. she squeezes her eyes shut as her cunt squeezes, indicating that her precipice was near. she whimpers, hastening the movement of her hips as she chased her orgasm. she could feel it curling in her toes, tugging in her lower abdomen in a tease. it’s so good—the pressure of it as it builds and she’s anxious to feel her release that she knows is pending. she feels the weight of stack’s body sprawled on top of her as he finds her mouth in another kiss. she indulges in the kiss but only briefly until she realizes that his fingers had stopped their ministrations and were now occupied with tugging her shorts and thong off.

her petulance doesn’t last long because as soon as he’s got her underwear discarded, he’s shoving his pants and boxers down his hips just enough to where they’re wrapped around his ankles and his dick sprang free. it’s hung, endowed in its girth, already spiting milky precum from the swollen tip. he retracts from the embrace just enough so that he’s able to tug his shirt off and throw it in a pile on the floor with the other discarded clothes.

he crawls back up to her, using two of his fingers to slide up her pussy to gather her slickness of her arousal. he uses it as a lubricant mixing it in with his own fluids as he jerked himself off in a few haste tugs to get fully hard. his dick’s glistening; it’s a beautiful vision of their fluids mixed together as his hands groped and tugged at his dick.

bianca throbs anxiously waiting for him to fill her.

once he’s fully hard and curled against his thigh, he huddled a hand underneath bianca’s thigh again and alleviated her hips off of the couch while the other hand palmed his slick dick and aligned it at her center. she spreads her legs open, allowing him space for the intrusion. he levels his hips and initiates a leisure thrust that has the tip of his dick catching at her entrance.

she keens at this—her body spasms in response at the stretch of him wedged inside of her, puckered between her lips. stack bites on his lip as he lowered his eyes to observe the view of his dick as it penetrated her inch by inch until she’s swallowing him whole. “fuck,” he groans, his own breathing unsteady and vision blurred.

pleasure licks up her spine then spreads through every crevice in her body, entrapping her. the pain of the intrusion as he stretches his girth inside of her is only brief. the wetness of her cunt allows him to feed into her without resistance until his dick’s rimmed at her hilt as he bottomed her out.

delirium hits all at once.

he feels so thick and full inside of her that she can’t think about anything except the way his dick’s twitching inside of her. stack allows both of them time to adjust before he’s turning his head so that he’s able to kiss at her clavicle and neck. her hand brush against his nape as she shifted beneath him, indicating her impatience.

he acknowledges this and returns his lips back onto hers, kissing her softly. it’s only then when he slides his hand at her waist and reclined his hips before nudging back inside of her in one fluid thrust. his pelvis lingers against hers for a moment before he’s retracting again. she arches her back off of the cushions of the couch as she pressed her body closer towards his until there’s not an barrier of space between them. she undulates her hips, implementing that delicious catch and release of his dick as it fill and spills out of her.

stack’s hands are squeezing at her thighs, his breath heavy and hot against her ears. “this pussy is mine. every inch of you is mine. no one else’s. no one can fuck you like i can,”

and he’s right; no one else can fuck her, not like this, because she can almost swear she can feel him curled deep in her belly every time he fucks back into her. and it felt so good. “you got that?” his voice is gruff and shaky. she can taste the salty sweat dripping from his forehead. her hands caress his body, feeling the chisel of muscle beneath her fingertips.

bianca nods, breathing through her parted lips. “yours, all yours.” their sex is noisy. the wetness of his dick retracting and filling her again makes a squelching sound, his balls smack against her ass as he fucks her long and deep.

stack maneuvers them so that he’s the one laying beneath her as she straddles him from on top. with this new change of position, she makes the effort in shimmying out of her shirt as well so that they’re both fully naked without any barrier of clothes between them.

she moves her hips in a sinuous motion, teasing her clit with his tip, stirring up just enough arousal until she’s ready for him to fill her again. she steadies her hands on his chest for balance as she arches her hips and pops her ass back. her thighs and cunt squeezes together as she fucks herself onto him. stack’s face contorts between a mix of awe and amusement as he lowered his eyes to where their pelvises conjoined. he watches as her cunt swallows his dick completely mesmerized.

“stack. fuck, i’m so close.” she whimpers, hastening her efforts as she alternated between circling her hips and bouncing on his dick.

he pressed his thumb against her sensitive clit as he fingered and fucked her. “come on, baby. let me feel you. cum all over my dick,” he whispered encouragingly, enticing another whimper from bianca. “cum for me, b.” she nods, biting down on her lip again as she squeezed her eyes shut.

that’s all it takes before she’s cuming with her body shivering and her breathing labored. his fingers dig into the flesh of her thighs as he increased his own hastened efforts, fucking up into her until he’s groaning loudly as his warm cum spilled inside of her seeping cunt. she slumps over with her forehead rested against stack’s shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath. she didn’t know what brought on such possessiveness from stack but she actually kind of liked it especially if it meant him fucking her like this.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs against her skin, words muffled as she tucked her head against his shoulder. bianca turns her head and looked at him, surprised to see the vulnerability marring across his features. “i know i’ve been distant and angry for these past few weeks… i just — sometimes, i get too in my head and start to think that one day you’re gonna realize that you’re too good for me and leave.” his eyes avert, his jaw clenches again as he shrugged his shoulder looking chagrined.

“what?” she asks, bewildered. “baby, why would you think that?”

he shrugs, “you got shit goin’ for you and i’m just… here. then you started hangin’ around jordan and i thought…i don’t know. it’s stupid. forget i said anythin’,” he attempts to dismiss, but bianca is deviant in her refusal. she sits upright and tucks her finger under his chin, tugging his head up so that he’s looking at her.

“i’m not going to leave you. i love you, you know that. and you’re more than enough for me. i don’t know where that idea came from but it’s not true.” he nods, the tension in his jaw loosens as he looks up at her with his softened brown eyes. “i’m sorry too. instead of talking to you, i went to jordan instead. but i meant what i said about him just being my friend. it was just easy to talk to him because you were pulling away from me. i was lonely and needed a friend to talk to. that’s it. i don’t have feelings for him and the only guy i wanna be with is you.”

there’s still a lot between them that needed to be addressed, but she was just glad they’d gotten to a point where they were finally communicating again.

stack grabbed her by the hips as he sat upright to meet her lips in a kiss. it’s slow unlike the others that they shared and ensued enough vigor to have her toes curling again. she wraps her arms around his neck as she leans into him, savoring the taste and feeling of his mouth against hers. “i love your sexy ass,”

she giggles, biting on her lip. “i love you too,”

his hand smacks against her ass as he smirks boyishly. “this ass is mine too,”

bianca smirks, nudging her hips forward in a thrust as she rubbed against his dick that was still buried inside of her. stack inhaled a sharp breath through his flared nostrils, “and this, is all mine.” she murmurs coquettishly, much to his amusement.

“yeah?” his hands reach behind her and grab her ass, holding her against him. he bites his lip at the lewd sight of her swollen cunt that was still glistening with his cum slipping out of her. “show me.”

she lifts her hips in a whine, meeting each of vigorous his thrusts as he glides in and out of her wanton pussy at an unhurried pace. “elias!”

his jaw is slacked, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he watched himself prod deeper inside of her, penetrating her and filling her up. she shudders at the emotion stack poured into every thrust of his hips. her eyes flutter shut as she moves in time with him, meeting every upward thrust with a grind of her hips.

his rolls his hips, fingers palled into the skin on waist as he continues. then, in almost perfect unison, she comes undone, her body trembles as her arousal spills from her. and he’s seconds behind her, falling mercilessly against of her as his warm arousal fills her. she’s still trembling and trying to steady his heavy breathing when he feels stack’s hands rubbing at her backside.

her face is nuzzled against his neck again as she’s hauling down from her post-coital orgasmic high. they sat there in silence still trembling. he kisses her chest, lowering his mouth until he reaches her breast. his lips pucker around her left nipple, tugging at the sensitive flesh with his teeth, then soothes his tongue over it with a gentle lap.

she instantly gets wet again, feeling it lap around his cock. she grinds against him, dragging and rolling her hips until she feels him swell inside of her. she holds her hand against the back of his neck as she bounced on his dick — the sound of wet skin slapping against each other’s fill their ears. she tosses her head back and angles her hips taking him deeper, feeling the shape of him curl so far into her that she feels the bulge of him in her stomach. “oh my—fuck,” he presses his hand against her abdomen, rolling his hips into hers, meeting her halfway in her frenzied thrusts. tears sting in her eyes, her lip trembles and chest heaves. her cunt warps tightly around him, causing him to groan around her nipple.

he fucks into her once, twice, shoving himself so deep that she feels him brushing against her cervix. she chokes on a sob, falling forward again as she she feels a wetness of liquid squirt out of her. stack moans around her tight flutters, feeling the tell of his orgasm lurch in the tip of his dick. he cums inside of her again, shivering. kissing her shoulder, he exhaled a shaky breath. “damn baby.” he coos, looking down at the sticky wet mess between them.

she curls against his chest, still sensitive and overstimulated from her consecutive orgasms. he rubs his hand down her back in a soothing gesture, kissing her neck. “you okay?” she nods, still shaking. he continued to rub and hold her until her seizing subsides. “come on. imma clean us both up then come back down to make dinner.” he hefts her into his arms, carrying her bridal style up the stairs and into their bathroom.

[twlgholts]

always kind of was, j.b.

chapter nine, things you don’t say

— jacob black x f. reader

a/n: holy long chapter its like double the length of other ones oops! but we almost done so stay tuned…

taglist: @asillysimp @grimlinn @eneywey @shinobuily @ravisinghs-wife @mjustag1rl @mae-gi-writes @agustdeeyaa @itsfromaboyband-blog

prev. series masterlist! next.

Death is imminent. Most don’t get the luxury of reaching the end of their life naturally–peacefully. Most don’t die knowing their life was well-lived, well-loved.

You, however, were going to take that luxury away from Jacob Black.

Thirty-five hours, forty-two minutes, eight seconds. That’s how long it had been since you last saw him, since that night. You hadn’t texted, but neither had he.

To be fair, he knew you needed more space than he did. Jacob always seemed to know that about you–how when your emotions boiled over, you needed quiet. Stillness. Time alone to cool off so you could speak your mind without every word carrying too much heat, especially ones you didn’t mean.

And he was right.

Which only pissed you off more.

Because if he understood you that well–understood what you needed, how you worked, how you shut down–then why did he keep you under the dark, like you hadn’t spent your entire lives knowing each other inside-out?

He knew you wouldn’t reach out first. You weren’t the kind of person who broke the silence until you were ready, and he knew that. You knew that he knew that. Which made it all worse because even if he knew you needed space, even if he understood it down to a science, a part of you still wished he’d done the opposite anyway. You wanted him to prove you wrong, to show up at your doorstep soaked and breathless and say, screw space, I care too much to stay away.

But he didn’t.

And maybe there was no right move he could’ve made. Maybe there was no winning. Maybe this whole situation was designed to screw you both up.

When Jacob felt things, he felt them with everything in him. He was stubborn. He loved hard and fast, but he always, always, put others before himself. That’s why it felt natural for him to throw his life into danger without blinking–because protecting Forks from real monsters gave him purpose. It distracted him from thinking too hard about stuff that really scared him.

Like feelings.

Like you.

Everything had happened too fast. The shifting, the imprinting, the supernatural chaos. One second he was just a kid worrying about homework, dreaming about a girl who moved away. The next, he had fur, paws, responsibilities, and a cosmic bond telling him the person who kept him grounded was now the axis his entire universe spun around.

You didn’t do anything wrong and it wasn’t something you said. You just existed, and somehow your existence alone became the thing Jacob needed to survive.

When you left, he told himself the crush would die quietly. And it did–kind of. It fizzled out, but not really. Never really. He buried it, shoved it down with both hands, and then you came back and suddenly it was like he didn’t need air, or food, or sleep. Just you.

You being near him rewired everything. The progress he’d made–the person he was trying to become–froze. Halted like his growth hit a red light and never got the green again.

He never wanted to hurt you. Not ever. He wanted to do the opposite, to protect you and preserve your peace by keeping you from the heavy, tangled mess of what he was now. The last thing he wanted was to trap you in something you never asked for.

And the worst part? He knew you’d understand because you always did. You’d listen and nod and hold space for him the way no one else could.

That made it scarier.

Because if you understood, then it’d be real. It would mean accepting what he was, what you were to him, and what that might do to you.

Not seeing you sucked. But knowing you were hurting because of him? That made his skin crawl, his chest ache. He could feel it–literally–because of the damn imprint, the cosmic tie that tethered his every heartbeat to yours.

And lately, with patrols getting more intense, with rogue vampires creeping through the tree line again, Jacob’s already limited time had shrunk even more. Which meant pushing you further out. Which meant more guilt. More regret. More thoughts circling like vultures.

And everyone noticed.

“You look like crap,” Embry told him one afternoon, smirking around a half-eaten granola bar as Jacob slouched deeper into the worn couch in Emily’s living room.

Jacob didn’t bother answering. His arms were crossed, hair a mess, dark circles etched under his eyes like bruises.

Quil threw down a reverse card during their lazy Uno game and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, man. You’re gonna implode. Or imprint-sulk yourself into an aneurysm.”

“I’m fine,” Jacob muttered.

“Liar,” Embry replied immediately, not even looking up from his cards.

“You’re not sleeping. You’re screwing up on patrols. You let a tree root punk you last night. A root, Jake.” Quil gestured toward the bandage around Jacob’s thumb. “That’s embarrassing for all of us.”

Jacob sighed through his nose. “Yeah. I know.”

There was a pause.

Then Quil leaned back and said, “Look. I’m saying this because I love you, bro. But you’re being a total idiot. A certified, capital ‘I’ idiot. You know it. We know it. Probably even the trees know it at this point.”

“Great pep talk,” Jacob replied, sarcastic.

“I’m not done,” Quil said. “You don’t even have to tell her the wolf stuff yet. Honestly, I wouldn’t. She’s already trying to figure out why you’re acting like this moody-loner-slash protector hybrid. You’re already giving off major Angel-from-Buffy vibes. Don’t make it worse by dumping a werewolf-shaped bomb on her.”

Embry snorted. “For real. If you disappear dramatically one more time, she’s gonna start journaling about you in cursive.”

Jacob cracked a reluctant smile but didn’t say anything. Then, without looking up, he tossed his last card onto the pile. “Uno out.”

Quil blinked. “Wait–seriously?”

Jacob just leaned back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling, eyes dull. “Doesn’t mean I’m winning at life.”

Embry let out a low whistle. “Damn. That was darker than expected.”

“Talk to her,” Quil said again, more serious now. “You don’t have to say everything, just something. Something real, honest, because not saying anything? That’s what’s killing you.”

Jacob was sad, but so were you. 

Not just sad. Confused. Conflicted. Hurt. Stuck somewhere between rage and ache and it all sat heavy in your chest like a weight you couldn’t breathe under.

You were drinking a glass of orange juice and staring at the fridge like it had answers. Maybe if you looked hard enough, the swirling storm inside your brain might settle.

“You’re looking at the fridge like red laser beams are gonna shoot out of your eyes and evaporate it,” your dad said, stepping into the kitchen with that familiar dry tone, breaking the silence like a crack of thunder. He clocked your slumped posture and pinched brows instantly.

You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Yeah. Practicing for my victim.”

He walked over and rubbed your shoulders, then kissed the side of your head in that comforting, fatherly way he always did. “Black? Don’t do that to my boy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just so annoyed. Like why is he acting like a freak and being so secretive? I’m not asking for the government’s confidential top-secrets. I just want him to be honest.”

“I was just like him,” your dad says, smiling as he opened the cabinet and pulled out a mug. “Young. Rebellious. Mysterious. It didn’t help when I fell in love.”

You raised a brow and perched up a little, staring at him like he’d said something criminal. “With Mom? You? Mysterious?”

He smiles with pride written all over his face.

“Mom said you used to call her five times a day and show up to her work ‘accidentally’ like, three times a week.”

He nodded solemnly. “That was me being mysterious.”

You laughed, for real this time.

“I once tried to impress her by dancing backwards down the hallway in rollerblades while holding a boombox in high school. Hit a locker, flipped over, broke my wrist, passed out, hospitalized. She was sitting next to me when I woke up. That’s when I knew she was the one.”

You blinked. “You never told me that version.”

“Because I looked like an idiot,” he replied, sipping his coffee. “But an idiot in love.”

“So what’s that got to do with Jacob acting like an emotionally repressed cryptid?”

He chuckled, deep and loud from his belly. “Everything. You kids think love is clean. It’s not. Sometimes it’s stupid and messy and makes you act like a weirdo who stares at a fridge. But if you don’t deal with it head-on, it eats you alive.”

You stared into your juice, feeling heat crawl up the back of your neck.

“Just… don’t wait too long,” he advises, heading for the hallway. “I’d like a warm thank you in your wedding speech, not a cold one on your deathbed. Go talk to him before your temper rips him apart.”

Your dad disappears down the hallway, leaving behind the faint scent of coffee. You take another sip of your orange juice and just sit there, watching the condensation slide down the glass, listening to the silence settle in the house like fog. Your thoughts churn quietly beneath the surface–heavy, sharp, loud, impossible to name. You look down at your hands and they’re still, but everything inside you is not.

You don’t know how much time passes. Maybe a few minutes. Maybe an hour. But eventually, after thirty-seven hours, twelve minutes, and fifty-six seconds of silence and distance, you throw on (his) hoodie, grab your keys, and drive.

The road is muscle memory. You’ve taken this route so many times, it’s etched into your bones. You pass the place where Jacob taught you how to skate, where he pushed you too fast down a hill and nearly gave you a concussion. Where he laughed so hard he fell over with you.

Eventually, you’re on the reservation, the ocean wind shifting in through the cracked window, and the ache in your chest building like pressure before a storm.

You park in front of a small, red wooden house that always looked too much like a barn. A little weathered by time, but standing.

You barely knock before the door opens.

Jacob looks tired, his hair messy like he had just woken up, his chest rising and falling concerningly fast. He looks at you like he wasn’t expecting you but was hoping you’d come anyway. But you don’t give him a chance to speak.

You step forward and just let it all out.

“Do you know how much it hurt not knowing what the hell was going on with you? I felt like I was screaming into a void and you just stood there watching. Do you know what it feels like to have someone look at you like you’re everything one second and then like you’re a stranger the next? Like they’re holding behind some thick wall and you’re not allowed through, no matter how hard you pound on it?”

You don’t even notice your hands are shaking until you grab at the sleeves of the hoodie.

“I came here thinking things would be different–or maybe just the same in the ways that mattered. But you’re not talking to me, Jacob. Not really. You show up, you bail, you look at me like I’m the answer to a question you won’t even ask. And I’m trying. God, I’m trying to be patient and soft and understanding, but I’m not a mind reader. I don’t want to be. I want you to trust me enough to say something. Anything.”

He’s still. Watching you. Breathing heavy.

You keep going, voice cracking just slightly now.

“Because this isn’t fair. I know you’re going through something, I see it. But it feels like you’re grieving something I don’t even know about, like there’s this shadow over you and you won’t let me near it. You shut me out and I feel like I’m just waiting for the version of you I used to know to come back. But maybe that version is gone. And if he is, at least say that. Is that too much to ask for? Too selfish?”

There’s a moment of silence. He doesn’t move.

Then he steps aside and lets you in.

You follow him into the warmth of the house, your heartbeat still thudding, your throat dry. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a long breath before finally looking at you again.

“I can’t tell you,” he says, voice low but steady. “And before you get mad again–just listen. I want to be honest with you, more than anything, but there’s this part of me I didn’t ask for. Something that’s not entirely mine to explain. And I don’t even understand it yet.”

He swallows, his eyes are shining too, but he blinks quickly.

“It’s been eating me alive since before you came back. Every time I look at you, there’s this war inside me wanting to protect you and wanting to keep you as far from me as possible, and I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t even fully know what I am right now, let alone how to share that with someone else.”

He finally steps closer. “And I know you’re hurt. I hate myself for hurting you, but I’m hurting too, and I don’t have the words or the tools to fix this yet. I just need more time. I promise I’ll tell you–everything. But right now, if I did, I’d only be handing you a burden that I’m still trying to carry myself and I can’t do that to you.”

You breathe in slowly, heart thudding against you ribs.

“Nothing about you is a burden to me, Jacob,” you whisper. “I love and care about every inch of your soul. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he says quietly, “And that’s what terrifies me. Why do you seem to love and understand me more than I do myself? Just let me figure this out first. Let me become the person who deserves that kind of love. Then I’ll tell you. I swear.”

You stare at him for a long moment. Then you nod once, slow.

“Okay, I trust you. Don’t go breaking it, Jake.”

“I won’t,” he replies almost immediately. “I swear I won’t.”

“You’re not kicking me out now, are you?” you ask, voice soft.

“No,” he says, voice low, like the word had been waiting in his chest this whole time. “Stay. Please. Stay.”

There’s something raw in the way he says it–not desperate, exactly. Just sincere, like he’s finally admitting that he needs something.

You stop, half-turned toward the door, and look at him.

“Okay,” you say softly.

You drop your keys on the table, toe off your shoes, and glance around the room like it’s unfamiliar, even though you’ve been here a hundred times before. Everything feels a little warped, like the air’s heavier now, slower. Jacob stays quiet, eyes following you with that same unreadable look. Part guilt. Part relief. Mostly something deeper–something wounded and tender.

You shift your weight, then glance down at your phone. “Crap. I forgot my charger.”

His voice is steadier now, a little warmer. “Top drawer on my desk. Might still be that old one you left.”

You nod, grateful for something simple, and head toward his room.

His room smells like him–that mix of pine and clean laundry and something warm you can’t quite name. Possibly familiarity. You flick on the light and go to the desk.

You open the drawer and pause.

The overhead light flickers softly, catching on the edge of something crinkled and colorful nestled between loose batteries and old screws.

Starburst wrappers.

Dozens of them.

Some smoothed flat, others crumpled into little cubes like they’d been stuffed into a pocket in a hurry. Pink, orange, red–every color, every flavor. You pick one up, your fingers still recognizing the texture, the weight of it. A soft breath escapes you before you can help it.

Jacob’s voice floats in from the hallway. “You find it?”

You don’t answer right away. You’re still staring into the drawer, holding a piece of your shared history between your fingers.

He steps into his room. “Hey, you okay?”

You hold up the wrapper without turning around. “You kept these?”

A pause. You can feel him stop in the doorway behind you.

Then, quieter: “What do you mean?”

You look back at him, your expression a mixture of incredulous and something tender. You shift back slightly so he can see inside the drawer. His eyes land on it–on the sea of familiar colors–and something in his face changes. Softens.

He walks forward slowly. “I forgot I still had those.”

You raise a brow. “Did you, though?”

Jacob scratches the back of his neck again, half a smile playing at his lips. “Okay. Maybe I knew. But only because I never wanted to throw them out.”

You turn toward him, arms folded loosely, a pink wrapper still in your hand. “Why?”

He looks down at the drawer, then back up at you with a sort of quiet vulnerability. “Because they were yours. Ours. I don’t know. I guess… I held onto them because they reminded me of a time when things made sense. When getting a kiss from you only cost a few pieces of candy.”

You scoff lightly. “You were constantly broke.”

“I know.” He smiles. “But you still patched me up anyway. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You shake your head, stepping closer. “You’re such a sentimental idiot.”

“I’m aware.”

He meets your eyes, and something heavier settles between you. A beat of silence. A shared knowing. You search his face for something—an answer, maybe. Or a reason why you’re still here, why your heart still aches when it comes to him.

“I missed this,” you say, your voice quieter now. “Us. Before everything got complicated. But I’m glad we talked.”

Jacob nods, almost solemn. “Me too.”

You inhale slowly, chest tight with the things you haven’t said. Then he reaches out and pulls you in gently, his arms wrapping around your waist like they were made to. You fold into him without resistance. The hug is soft at first, then stronger. He tucks his chin over your shoulder, and you stay that way–for a long, quiet moment. No words. Just breath, warmth, and the ache of being known too well.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. His hands are still resting on your arms. “Let me make everything up to you.”

You tilt your head, suspicious. “How?”

“Tomorrow,” he says, but certain. “Be free at six.”

You blink. “You’re giving me a time but not a plan? Again?”

His smile tugs to the side, sheepish. “I swear I won’t drag you hiking this time. Not without warning or verbal consent, at least.”

“Hmm,” you pretend to mull it over. “But I’m expecting, like, a five-course apology.”

He raises a brow. “You’re getting a pack of Starbursts and my sparkling company. Anyone else would be fighting for that.”

You snort, despite yourself. “Modest, aren’t we?”

“I’ve been told it’s one of my more annoying qualities.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile’s already taken over. “Guess I’ll allow it.”

He leans in a little, playful but tentative. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, softer now. “I’ll be there.”

He grins. “I’ll take what I can get.”

There’s a beat. Just the quiet hum of the room and the distance between you shrinking a little more.

You tilt your head. “We’re okay?”

Jacob meets your gaze, steady and warm. “We’re okay if you’re okay.”

You nod, voice just above a whisper. “Then we’re okay.”

And you don’t need to say anything else. Because right now, in his hoodie, in his room, in this moment—you are.

[bewildered-buck]

okay i've been waiting to put my thoughts into words but trust me i'm having them

first off, people closing on buddie after 8.18? how!? like i understand but also throwing in the towel when we're this close is wild to me. i get that it feels like we've been queer baited for years and i would argue that yes, fox queerbaited y'all (i didn't start watching until august after spending years absorbing the fandom through tumblr posts and tiktok clips). fox played the buddie aspects while never planning on making them canon after their bid failed in s4.

that said, abc is a new network. s7 was cut short because of the strike which dis-regulated the pacing and s8 was off because of that but we cannot ignore the strides they have made since taking over the show. here is an incomplete list of moments that have me doubling down on buddie s9

buck is canonically queer and dated a man

that man was shocked that buck was trying to get his attention (implications being buck was trying to get eddie's attention)

that man broke up with buck because he "knew" he wouldn't be buck's "last" (implications again being eddie would be)

eddie moved away which buck supported 1000% because he loves chris and knows it was right for eddie. yes he had his RSD spiral when he was trying to ruin eddie's plans but he worked through it and supported him unconditionally, even giving up his loft—the first place he lived on his own feeling truly at home—in order to sublet from eddie

when that man found out eddie was gone, he hooked up with buck and was ready to move in and build a life with buck which tells us for certain that the reason he broke up with buck is he knew eddie was a threat

"now that the competition is out of the way" you're telling me you forgot that? they lined eddie up as "the competition" and have him move back to LA at the end of the season. they introduced the idea of eddie as buck's love interest canonically and you're closing??

"it's not nothing"

"i hope you know; you do matter to me"

"are you?" "in love with eddie?" another setup to eddie as buck's love interest

"i don't have to sleep with everyone i have feelings for and i don't have to have feelings for everyone i sleep with" which is buck admitting he has feelings for eddie (and not for that man)

eddie going to the airport and buck assuming he's been left again only for eddie to not only return but to bring his entire family (well the good ones at least) to buck to apologize for taking his anger out on him?

eddie saying "if bobby taught me anything, it's that we always have a choice" in the same season that he was told to choose joy for himself?

buck's reaction to eddie's voice on the radio?

THAT LOOK!? the one on the parking garage rooftop? yes we have gotten the characters looking at each other that way before but this was edited to bring our attention to it. to bring the general audience's attention to it. the music swell? the fact that eddie didn't see ravi coming to hug him? the fact that buck didn't even try to assist everyone helping him get the rigging off because he was too busy being enamored by eddie's very presence?

the fact that eddie claims his plan was inspired by what buck would do? lining them up as being more and more alike? a season after buck's coming out?

then there's the press of it all. i know this feels like queerbaiting after waiting so damn long to get anything canonical but i would like to posit that it's simply ship baiting until proven otherwise. what i mean by that is that we cannot officially call it queer baiting until the story is over. if the show ends without them ever dating, it will have been queer baiting but i don't believe that's the direction we're going. they have finally unlocked the buddie content in interviews. they're being allowed to talk about it. that's big. and they're doing the same press they would do with a straight couple that's in the same situation

i wholeheartedly believe that we're on the precipice of watching their relationship grow slowly and authentically. we didn't get an explosive prideful Moment of Realization but i would argue that's better. if we got that moment, all the firsts and relationship growth would happen in the hiatus and we wouldn't see it. this way we get a true will they/won't they dynamic given the same respect (and disrespect) as a straight relationship on network tv

ultimately i cannot tell you how to feel. i can't tell you not to quit but i will remind you what fandom is supposed to be; it's supposed to be a space to double down on the love of something. it's meant to be fun and joyful and so i'm choosing to love what we do have instead of being angry and hurt by what we didn't get. i have big hopes for the show but i at the same time will be okay with most anything they give us because i want to hold onto the joy and community that this show has given me

side notes:

weird plots that were dropped through the season like the bottle of champagne that man put in the freezer? that should come back at some point and if it doesn't i'm rioting. they had the opportunity for buck to bring it out when tia pepa and chris showed up so he could celebrate eddie's job offer which would have been wholesome and sweet (and a redirect of that man's plans with buck to buck's support of eddie would have been beautiful) but maybe it will come up in s9

buck pulling that man out through the wardrobe (closet) instead of pick it up off him (which wouldn't be hard for him, i could pick that wardrobe up)

i also have Thoughts on bobby being alive but that will have to be it's own post

also yes i am pissed at oliver for the fake script. that was bullshit and he owes an apology

[psychocitywrites]

Hard Truths - I

Summary: Rafe Cameron has everything a man would want. Now he’s looking to settle down. He thinks he’s found the one that checks all the boxes, except she’s not you.

Prologue Chapter 1

“Hey, isn’t that y/n?” Kelce asked. Well, that was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. When Kelce said your name aloud, it brought up a feeling of annoyance in Rafe.  

If Rafe had a mortal enemy. It’d be you (albeit it was more one sided than anything). Back when he was a teenager, He had wanted to excel in every subject just to get an ounce of his father’s praise.

He put in countless hours of studying, played every sport, and even joined those extracurricular clubs that helped the community so that he would look good in his father’s eyes.

He was the number one golden boy at kook academy. And he was doing good, until you transferred to his school.

You got in with a scholarship. You weren’t even a kook. You had moved to the outer banks to live with to your uncle when your parents didn’t have enough money to support you at the time. He didn’t know it at the time, but you would come in and crash his entire system.

Whatever subject it was, you had him beat. If he was given a 95, you aced with a perfect score. When the clubs he joined began voting for new representatives for the year, he’d be the vice president while you were voted president or captain of whatever the hell it was school.

Instead of feeling proud his son was doing well in school, Ward would always reprimand him for losing the top spot to you.

"You let a pogue beat you at being Valedictorian? She doesn't even have tutors. Why the hell did I pay them for?"

It made him feel inferior just like how he felt with Sarah.

The worst part was that you either didn’t care or didn’t realize it. You always wanted to sit next to him or be his partner in projects.

You hadn’t done anything wrong per se, but he was sure he hated you. When you both graduated, you had moved back home with your parents and Rafe thought he’d never have to see you again.

However, when he looked back and saw you, dressed up with your hair and make-up done nicely, walking behind Heather, he did a double take. It was you, only dressed up for the occasion. He’d never seen you like that, dressed up with your hair and make up done pretty.

Huh he thought.

“Imma go say hi.” Said Kelce. Rafe looked at him, face showing his confusion. “How do you know her?”

“Y/n used to tutor me in math. She’s the best” Fuck. Even his friends liked her. “You should come. It looks like her and Heather are close. Maybe she can help you shoot your shot.” Kelce laughed as he walked towards the girls.

Her? Help me? Please, as if. Rafe followed anyway.

========================

You weren’t sure what to expect when your company invited you to the gala, but running into the boy you used to tutor in algebra was not in your agenda for the evening.

“Y/n! What a nice surprise. We haven’t seen each other in what? Years?” Kelce said.

“Oh my gosh! Kelce! It’s so good to see you.” You responded. “How are you?” You went in for a hug.

As Kelce was going on about how he’d been. You see another face you thought you’d never run into. Rafe Cameron was the boy you used to have a crush on when you moved to the outer banks and seeing him again after all these years made your face feel flushed.

“Hi Rafe.” He only gave a small hi back.

“Are you with anybody tonight?” Kelce asked when he was done talking. “Yes and no. I don’t have a date, but I came with Miss Hayworth as her assistant."

“You work for her?” Kelce said surprised. “Yeah, she’s over here if you want me to introduce you.”

Rafe perked up at that. You caught it and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment. Of course they’d wanna meet her. It’s Heather Hayworth.

You liked Heather. She was nice, pretty, and an overall good person, yet seeing the man you used to like show more emotion at hearing her name than seeing you stung.

It’s not like we were more than classmates you thought.

You admit, you were sweeter on him than he was you, but you liked how much effort he put into his work and how he always volunteered to do stuff outside of class.

However, even though you wanted to get closer to Rafe, it was like there was an invisible wall separating you from everyone else. You chalked it up to you being an outsider.

“As long as it not a bother.” Rafe said. His voice made your heart beat a little faster. “Of course not. Come on.” You spoke.

You just hope you wouldn’t regret it later on.

How many of yall guessed ex-classmate?

[waterdhaviancheeses]

Magical sex with Gale

I wrote this post the other day, and got a comment about which spell it was that Gale and Tav used in the bedroom. Though I didn't have a spell in mind, there are plenty of options.

NSFW, mention of drugs under the cut.

Thanks @sorcerervaati

Small disclaimer: I do not necessarily think Gale would be into all of these, and assume every act is safe, sane, and consensual.

Mage Hand, an obvious one, there is an entire ao3 tag dedicated to it. Gale would use it all the time, and loves to watch his partner get pleasured by the hand. Imagine the shenanigans he could get up to if he had the Arcane Trickster's ability to make the hand invisible…

Chill Touch, Frost Fingers, Burning Hands, Shocking Grasp, etc. for temperature play.

Message or Sending, it would become a challenge for him to see how hot and bothered he could get his partner in 25 words or less. He would send a filthy message right after leaving for work, and be delighted to come home to a desperately horny Tav.

Illusion spells! Every time Gale has to leave for work for a longer period of time, he leaves a programmed illusion as a surprise for Tav. He would set the trigger for when his name is spoken out loud, in case Tav moans his name while masturbating. The illusion itself could be anything from a naked Gale to just his voice. Gale is incredibly smug when he finds out the illusion was triggered while he was gone. 

Evards Black Tentacles, do I need to say more?

I imagine that some enchantment spells such as Charm Person, Command, and Dominate Person, could make you feel very rosy, like taking drugs. These spells would (obviously) work well in a sub/dom relationship.

Disguise self, perfect for gender bending!

Entangle, Hold Person, and Bigby's Hand for bondage.

Grease could be used as lube or massage oil, Gale would be talented enough to add some nice scents, flavors, and effects.

Invisibility, lasts an hour plenty of time to sneak into a bookstore or Blackstaff Academy and get busy. It is concentration, which only adds the thrill of getting caught.

Mirror Image, Gale would leave his mirror image at home as entertainment for Tav when he's at work. If Tav is also a mage, they let their images fuck while the two of them watch, betting on who would lose concentration first or keep their hand to themselves the longest.

Blindness/Deafness and Darkness for sensory deprivation.

Detect Thoughts and Telepathy, provide him with deeper insight in Tav’s likes and dislikes, where to touch when, how rough he can really be, what Tav really wants.

Enlarge, Gale is perfect the way he is, but has definitely enlarged his cock a couple of times.

Vortex Warp allows you to instantly switch places…

Arcane Eye and Scrying could be used to look in on Tav masturbating. Once again, if he was not at home and missing Tav, he sends a message, asking for a show from them.

Fabricate, for some impressive sex toys.

Polymorph, for a more primal connection, Halsin-style ;)

Animate Objects, Gale would use this spell to make sure the bed or sofa was as comfortable as possible for Tav. Or, perhaps, to get some help from the furniture to restrain or choke them.

Dream, how wonderful it is to be able to continue their escapades even after falling asleep.

Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion can be decorated in any way the caster wants, so a sex dungeon is on the table for sure.

Reverse Gravity, sex on the ceiling!

Last but not least: Simulacrum, 1500 gold is a small price to pay for another Gale, another set of his hands, another tongue, another mage hand. The Simulacrum can cast the same spells as Gale, so double the amount of fun :)

Which one is your favorite?

[crooked-wasteland]

We were promised stolas accountability, but instead we got stolas doing a grand gesture and “heroic” act of sacrifice. Followed by scenes of, in the writers view; unjust persecution of this beautiful man, by the filthy ungrateful poors. Protected if not by a grown woman calling him a blameless “baby”, but by an army of literal white knights formerly known as a team of self driven assassins. I think vivziepop just cannot abide the idea of stolas being incorrect or unlikeable in any capacity. I think a lot of it, for whatever reason, has to do with his sloppily written marital victim status, and his sexual orientation.

Think of the dwinni animation. Vivzies good friend Dani Draws, the personification of Medranos unfiltered innermost thoughts, was enraged at the idea that stolas could die, because he is a queer victim of abuse. It’s as if queer people and victims are just that. Nothing more. Always put on this untouchable frankly dehumanising pedestal. Their flaws, harmful actions, and misdeeds, abuses, potential antagonism, are diminished and excused by this fandom, seemingly just because of queerness and past victimhood.

But then again, is the protagonist Blitzø not also a victim of abuse? By his father and others? Is he not also queer? Isn’t it strange then that he receives the full brunt of Vivziepops pent up frustrations and hatred in the bashing episode “Apology Tour”

I cannot understand the stolas double standard. He has taken lives by hiring assassins, has taken lives by his own hand, he has tortured humans, mistreated his child, he has sexually harassed someone, he has been violent to those too weak to stand up to him. Even by this shows moral standards he is actually one of the worst. But his status as a gentle soft spoken victim of circumstance, the ‘kindest character’ and the excuse of ‘upbringing’ to explain his faults, is for some reason unquestionable.

Is this simply the persuasive power of pretty crying and colourful music videos?

Spot on Anon

It's a bizarre dehumanization. I remember being a child and seeing my characters as whole people. They were like my friends. I wanted to get to know them and understand them intimately.

Nowadays, it feels like the relationship between audiences and fictional characters is one of distortion and hollow tokenism. It isn't about getting to know characters through their own stories and on their own terms anymore, but forcing one's own identity into the emaciated characterization in order to feel better about yourself.

I was also one of those fanfiction writers who would kill my favorite characters to experience the feelings. Torture them in all the ways to test the extent of my humanity. I remember several times I stopped writing and would cry into my hands over these characters I made, or loved. I was never concerned about the social groups surrounding them, whether they were social minorities or not didn't matter. Because, first and foremost, they were people.

I give the creators respect by not insanely devouring the actual work put into the show to give the characters some kind of characterization. The part people seem to not understand is that I don't disagree with who the characters are, I am just not on board with how the narrative has progressed. Not because I just don't like it, but because it fails in its function.

They never earned a single thing they have attempted to do, because they are too intent on tokenism or because they are the Creator's precious little dollies, I don't know. But they have never been narratively challenged in any meaningful way, instead it feels like they've been consistently hollowed out, more and more, by both the writers and the fans.

Cinema Therapy - Cars

[abarbaricyalp]

Okay, as a big fan of your work, I must now pose your question back to you because I feel like we're all wondering: What's your favorite line or concept or plot point or vibe in a WIP you have stewing right now? Or what's something you'd like to see in a fic?

I'm glad you enjoy my stories! That means a lot 💛 I'm working on a bunch right now, but there are two that are haunting my every thought. This one is from a fic where Bucky starts smelling everything he comes across in the world. For reasons.

The first time he did it to Sam, himself--not his pillow, not his hoodie, not his damn cat--they were in a Rouses, at five-'til-eleven-pm, still in their battle gear and smelling like charred alien. Sam was so bone deep tired that the grating on the shopping cart was blurring and crossing and doubling in his vision. Bucky, behind him, wasn't much better off, swaying on his feet and dropping one of the seven bags of M&Ms in his hands every couple of minutes. The woman ahead of them was arguing about a coupon that expired earlier that day because it was for the seafood counter and they'd closed at seven. Sam didn't want to be using the last of his feeble brain power to be listening to the argument, but he was.

Bucky leaned again his side, elbow digging in a little painfully to Sam's sore muscles, and dropped another bag of M&Ms. His temple rested on the back of Sam's head, close enough that his warm breath was making goosebumps come up behind Sam's ear.

And then he smelled Sam's hair, face turning against him just a little, warm breath becoming cool with the intensity behind the intake. Every pulsing ounce of exhaustion taking over Sam's body skittered to the far reaches of it--his palms, the soles of his feet, the edges of his ribs, the top of his head. Suddenly, all systems were back online, including the systems telling him how close Bucky was standing to him and how warm he was through their gear and the fact that Sam could not possibly smell good enough to be sniffing in public.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled, not that he thought an earthquake could rouse the woman from her insistence that a coupon for shrimp should be applicable to all shrimp, not just the fresh stuff.

"You smell good," Bucky mumbled back. Which was a damn lie because Sam smelled like sweat and blood and gore and gunpowder.

Then again. He remembered the way those smells on Bucky's hands had settled him one night when Bucky had been putting stitches in Sam's face somewhere in a tundra. He thought about how often he'd dreamed of that night. Of putting Bucky's fingers to his mouth, his neck, his chest, his thighs. Holding tightly so he'd smell the same way later when one of them slipped off and Sam wasn't left with anything but memories.

"Warm," Bucky continued. "Smell like home." He tucked his nose closer to Sam's head. "You're using the shampoo I got you. It's got amber in it. I knew you'd like it."

A blush erupted over Sam's face and down his neck. This close, Bucky would be able to tell, if he was paying attention to anything at all.

"Get offa me," he grumbled, elbowing Bucky back a step. "You're dropping candy all over the place."

Bucky bent down to gather three bags of M&Ms and managed to come back up with two beef jerky sticks from a local company as well.

Sam ignored it when he held the package below his nose and took in a deep breath. Ignored the crawling, teasing fingers of memory along his neck too.

[negrowhat]

Old QL Game

Rules: Think about the oldest BLs you've ever watched. They have to have been released prior to 2020. Now name 5 - 10 iconic scenes that you cannot forget.

Tagged by @ommited-miscellaneously and the OG post is by @brazilian-whalien52

This is going to be fun. I've been in the BL space for a supremely long time. Like I don't want to date myself too much but literal decades so reaching back into the vault is going to be insane. Be prepared for screenshots because I know there are no gifs for most of the scenes I'm going to talk about.

SOTUS S (2017)

Kongpob turning Khaofang down. One of my most favorite things about Kongpob is how straightforward he is when people confess to him. One of his juniors tried to give him her gear and confess her love to him and he immediately told her that he was already taking care of someone's gear. He shut her down gently and kindly and kept it pushing and I just LOVE that scene.

TharnType the Series (2019)

Type asking Tharn to have sex with him. He really just sprung that on Tharn while they were having breakfast. He claimed it was because he didn't want to "owe" Tharn anything but really he was curious. And let's not forget we got the iconic ice scene in that ep.

Takumi-Kun Series 5 (2011)

Takumi tells Gii about his childhood trauma. They had just finished having sex and Takumi finally tells Gii what caused his phobia of people touching him. They sit there in bed and Gii holds Takumi tightly and listens to Takumi tell a horror story involving sexual abuse at the hands of his older brother when he was very, very young. It's a scene that was hard to watch but still very memorable.

I Love You As A Ma AKA Like Love (2014)

An Ziyan tells Mai Ding he loves him. Mai Ding literally runs into An Ziyan's room and asks him if he loves him to which which An Ziyan literally just laughs in his face. Mai Ding storms out of An Ziyan's dorm room and goes back to his which is just next door and angirly lies in his bed. An Ziyan does in fact love Mai Ding and just doesn't want to say it so he sits on his bed too and knocks on the wall they share and the knocks are in the rhythm a person would say 'I Love You' in. It's very sweet and Mai Ding is touched and happy again. If anyone can tell me where I can find that gem of a movie and it's sequel please let me know!

Until We Meet Again (2019)

DeanPharm meet face-to-face in the market. Win and Dean are out shopping for snacks for the swim team where Dean sees Pharm trying to reach for some peas or beans of some sort so he grabs them for him. WHEN THEIR EYES MEET?? And Pharm IMMEDIATELY starts crying!? And Dean caresses his cheek?? They don't know each other but their souls do and it's such a raw reaction and it literally makes me cry every time I see it.

Dark Blue Kiss (2019)

Sun stopping Mork from fighting. Specifically in the noodle shop when they went coffee bean hunting. Some jerk was harassing Mork and Sun and literally threw hot soup on Mork! So when Mork punched him out and almost bashed his head in with a solid wood stool all Sun could do was drag him out of the shop. I think it was a justified fight and Sun should've let the boy bludgeon that dude. One of my fave things from DBK was how Sun was always trying to keep Mork from fighting.

Long Time No See (2017)

Chisoo finds out about Gitae. Loved this part because Gitae really doesn't want to fight Chisoo so Chisoo is giving it all he's got and Gitae is holding back and mostly blocking. Anytime he has an opening to hit Chisoo he doesn't take it. Chisoo somehow rips off Gitae's mask and is stunned to see who he's fighting. Gitae has been a double agent their whole relationship and was hired to kill Chisoo.

ReminderS (2019)

Phun saying he's not worried about Noh cheating. Phun's new friends are asking him why he's not more jealous or worried about Noh hanging out with another man on campus. Phun easily just says that Noh is too stupid to notice anyone's advances and he's not generally worried because of that and because Noh tells him everything. It was such a funny scene. This entire series felt like a fever dream but it brought back PhunNoh to us.

Love Place 1: Hakanaki Kata Omoi (2013)

Doumoto sets Kana up to walk in on him and Souta. Kana is in love with Souta and his boyfriend knows it. Souta and Kana sort of used to date before he came out but she's still in love with him even though they agreed to be friends. Doumoto calls Kana and asks her to go to their apartment to check and see if they left the door unlocked when they stepped out to the store. She's in the middle of strawberry shopping but leaves to do that. Of course they're both still at home and Doumoto makes sure they're right in the middle of sex when she arrives. She is so pissed off that she screams, rips off the blankets, and throws the strawberries at them. A very justified crashout.

2 Moons 2 (2019)

Forth kissing Beam to shut him up. Beam has just accidentally hit Forth in a head with a hammer and they rush him to the hospital. When Forth comes to Beam is there and babbling out his apologies for giving him a concussion and the only way Forth can shut him up is to kiss him. Top tier. A lot of Pavel stans were born from him in 2 Moons 2 so I can't make this list without mentioning my beloved Bi Biker Icon Forth.

I'm tagging @bengiyo @lurkingshan @thisautistic @slonekaru @itsallaboutbl @benkaben @cirphu @babyangelsky @respectthepetty @khaotungthanawat @omarandjohnny @pharawee and whoever else sees this and wants to participate!

[xi4oyan]

Hello here I am once again~! I hope you are ok and is feeling well

Jttw X chaotic neutral! Reader. Reader has the same personality as Monkey, although with some more self-control, but they are a mortal, and may have a little hyperfixation on animals as a whole but more specifically on monkeys, are they're going to say it to Sun Wukong? Nope! No need to inflate his ego... Reader may SOMEHOW already know Zhu Bajie... Also if possible, may Reader get so f*cking well along with Monkey that Tripitaka and the gang see double

Chaos Became Routine.

🌸

The moment she steps onto the dusty road beside the monk Tripitaka, it’s as if the world gives a mischievous little grin.

She spins on her heel, greets Wukong with an exaggerated wave and a teasing glint in her eyes. He raises an eyebrow. “And you are…?”

“Someone you’d adore, but never be quite sure why.”

He blinks. Then laughs. Loudly. The kind that echoes through mountains.

༄

Zhu Bajie’s eyes go wide. “YOU?!”

“Yes, me. Hi, darling. Still owe me a beer from that festival in Suzhou, remember?”

“How do you even *know* Bajie...?” Sha Wujing frowns.

“Long story. Short enough to make you uncomfortable.”

Tripitaka sighs. He can already feel the headache forming.

༄

The trouble starts when she and Wukong begin walking side by side. And laughing the same way. And finishing each other’s sentences. And making up games along the way (“How many wild boars can I mimic before Bajie notices?”). And climbing trees just because. And yelling “LOOK, A GIBBON!” every time she spots a monkey — only to correct herself: “Oh wait, it’s just you again, Wukong.”

“Careful with all that enthusiasm, flower. You might fall for me.”

“Impossible. I’m past that phase. I only collect *interesting* primates now.”

“Aha... So you admit I’m interesting.”

“I said primates. Didn’t say you were *one* of them.”

Wukong stares. She smiles.

Tripitaka sighs again. “It’s like watching two teenage demons seeing who can cause the most chaos without breaking pilgrimage vows.”

Sha Wujing, resigned, just carries the luggage in silence.

༄

At night, when the group is camped and Wukong is hanging upside down from a tree, she sits by the fire, a ferret asleep on her lap and a crow perched on her shoulder.

“You really have a thing with animals, huh?” he says.

She looks at him, not smiling this time. “They’re free. They’re honest. They are what they are. Ever seen a monkey pretend not to care about freedom?”

He stops. For a moment, maybe for the first time, he looks at her not as if trying to understand — but as if he recognizes something.

She then adds, back to her usual light tone:

“But don’t think this is about you.”

“Of course not. Why would it be?”

“Exactly.”

And both laugh.

Tripitaka decides to sleep early that night. If he’s to survive more weeks with the two of them, he’ll need divine patience.

༄

The next morning, the sky still dreaming in lilac tones, she slipped between the trees, one leg hanging from a branch, upside down just like the monkey she refused to idolize.

Wukong appeared out of nowhere — as usual — spinning his staff over his shoulder and holding an apple in his hand.

"Are you gonna copy me this whole trip?"

She bit into a plum no one saw her pick up. "‘Copy’ is a strong word. I prefer ‘refine.’"

"Hmm. You know everyone thinks we’re cut from the same cloth, right?"

"Of course they do. And they’re wrong."

"Oh yeah? Gonna say we’re not alike?"

"You’re an immortal spirit sculpted from celestial stone. I’m a mortal made of flesh, chaos, and coffee. But sure — maybe there’s something between us."

He paused. Looked.

She bit into another plum. “...Scabies.”

Wukong laughed so loud he scared off the birds.

༄

Chaos became routine.

They raced between villages. Argued over who could get more free food from merchants. Played guessing games mid-ambush (“Three demons, two spears, one cauldron. Bet the cauldron’s cursed.” “Wrong. It’s the guy’s mustache on the left. Trust me.”).

And when they fought side by side — Tripitaka prayed, Bajie screamed, Wujing tried to keep his cool — the two were a spectacle of instinctive sync. Like they’d trained together for lifetimes.

She’d leap onto an enemy’s back and yell “Catch this,” and he’d fling his staff with pinpoint precision. When she slipped on a rooftop, he’d grab her by the collar and say, “Easy there, little monkey.”

She huffed. “Little monkey is my grandma.”

“So what are you?”

“An enchanting anomaly.”

“At least you admit it.”

“I admit I’m enchanting. The rest is your delusion of grandeur.”

༄

One rainy night, they shared shelter beneath the ruins of a temple. Thunder growled outside, but inside only breath and the whisper of her cloak drying by the fire could be heard.

“You ever think about leaving the monk?” she asked, turning slowly.

“Every day. But then I remember, if I leave, you’ll cause twice the trouble and no one will survive it.”

She laughed, but didn’t reply. Just stared at the flames dancing like wild things.

He rested his head on his arm and watched her. “You really like all animals, huh?”

“All of them. Even the ones that bite.”

“And… monkeys?”

She looked at him. He wore that smug little smile — the kind that begged to be ignored.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If they know how to listen when someone says ‘don’t inflate your ego’.”

“You think I’m handsome.”

She blinked. Smiled slowly.

“I’ve seen lemurs with more modesty.”

“But none as impressive as me.”

“You’re unbearable.”

“And you like it.”

She threw a ball of bread at him.

He let it hit.

༄

The next day, Tripitaka saw them laughing together, whispering in each other’s ears like two kids about to light dynamite.

“We’re seeing double,” Bajie muttered, slack-jawed.

“Same energy,” Wujing grumbled. “Same look in the eyes. Same ‘I’ll cause trouble and smile while the world burns.’”

Tripitaka clasped his hands for a long prayer. A very long one.

Maybe asking for patience. Or the miracle of separating them.

Spoiler: neither was coming.

༄

[logz027]

THE NIGHT THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING PT 4 🔞(SMUT)🔞

THE DAY AFTER 

it's the next morning and you are currently on a patrol with ellie, Both not really saying anything. You're to busy thinking about the night before and hopping, praying sarah hasn't told ellie and well, everyone in jackson about what happened. Ellie is a bit concerned about how quiet you've been, by now you would have been talking her ear off and she'd be telling you to shut up.

"Soo.. did you hear dina and jesse broke up AGAIN last night?" ellie asks trying to break the painful silence with some small talk not aware of what went down last night. You just sit there in shock for a moment eyes wide. "It just happened ok. i wasn't trying to take her off jesse or anything like that, i would never do that to him. We just got lost in the music and dina was the one who kissed ME anyway. it wasn't me who initiated it so whatever sarah or jesse told you.." you ramble as ellie cuts you off. "Wait,wait,wait. WHAT! you and dina?! Ha it was about time you two got together, i was getting so sick of being in the middle and listening to you both ramble on and on about each other. i guess dina finally took my advice and grew a pair. *Laughs* Though Don't get me wrong poor jesse, it is a little fucked up that they hadn't even been broken up for more than a day before you swooped in but hey, beggars can't be choosers." Ellie says ranting in happiness for her friends. "hey look its not like i planned it. Its not like i was sitting around waiting for them to break up, And what do you mean, dina was talking about me?" "Oh yeah she was worse than you, she just would not shut up about you. It was all Y/N this, Y/N that. it was getting so annoying. I'm honestly surprised that she stayed with jesse for as long as she did. Any way i'm glad you two have finally found each other and i see how happy she makes you Y/N. You deserve it after everything you have been through." Ellie pauses for a moment collecting her thoughts before continuing. "And hey, maybe next time me and Kat could convince you to go on a double date with us." You smile at the thought of you,dina,ellie and kat all going on a double date together. "hmm, yeah that sounds fun." 

some time passes and you and ellie are now riding your horses on your way back to jackson. Suddenly Ellie leans in with a smirk on her face. "so, spill the beans. What magical occurrence brought two of the most stubborn people i know to finally get together? Did you show her your impressive collection of action figures and comics, or was it your incredibly awful dance moves?" Ellie says just laughing away, clearly amused by the idea of you trying to seduce dina. "Oh haha". you laugh sarcastically. "No we just.." you get flashbacks from last nights sex. "idk ok nothing happened we just had moment thats.. thats all." You stutter out. Ellie notices the flush creeping up your neck and face, and the way you are avoiding eye contact, she just smirks smuggly putting two and two together. "Ooh, i see." she says, her smirk growing wider. "so it wasn't a grand romantic gesture or a big soul-baring confession? just a 'Moment'?" Ellie can't help but laugh clearly entertained by your flustered state. "come on Y/N/N, give me the juice, spill the beans its just me. I want to know exactly what happened to get you blushing like a teenager? was it a passionate kiss under the stars?". You get even more red in the face. "Nothing happened ok, nothing." you say looking down clearly lying. "oh. my. GOD. you two totally fucked didnt you? haha omg i cant beleive this." Ellie cant help but crack up laughing at this realisation. "no we didn't." you say all embarrassed "oh cut the bull shit Y/N, You're a terrible liar." She says wiping tears from her eyes, still chuckling. "I knew it, i fucking knew it! Alright come on, spill i. i want all the juicy deets. *laughs at you getting EVEN redder if that was even possible. She smirks as she whispers into your ear "I bet you fucked her so good huh? i bet you had her screaming." "omg shut up" you say riding off faster back to jackson. "HEY GET BACK HERE!" Ellie yells out smiling to herself. "Kids these days and their hormones... They grow up so fast." She jokes whipping away a fake tear. 

its now dark out when you finally make it back home. As you head inside you see dina laying on your bed wearing nothing but your shirt and some underwear. "Hey handsome, how was patrol?" she asks. "Alright considering Ellie was interrogating me the whole damn time." You say as you flop onto the bed exhausted from today. "So i guess we were right about sarah letting it slip about us then?" Dina giggled. "Um.." You awkwardly fiddle with your fingers. "actually it was me who uh let it slip. Look before you say anything it was completely by accident, Ellie started talking about how you and jesse had broken up, and i though she was gonna make a snarky comment about last night. so i became a stuttering mess trying to explain myself to her, buut it uh turned out she DIDN'T know what happened. so long story short she uh definitely now nows that we.. uh. we fucked so your welcome i guess." you sigh covering your face with your arms. Dina just laughs,"Oh baby haha you big goof. oh well at least we know your sister hasnt gone blabbering to the whole town, and besides its only ellie." Dina rubs your arms reassuringly. 

🔞(SMUT WARNING) 🔞

As you're getting ready for bed you cant help but feel Dinas strong gaze as she watches your every movement. The way her eyes are looking you up and down admiring every muscle flex and the way you unbuckle your belt. She cant help but be drawn to the bulge in your boxers as you pull your jeans off. As you look up in the mirror making eye contact with her you see her smirking. "i can feel you staring." she doesn't say anything as she bites her lower lip letting out a little chuckle as she sees your member twitch in your boxers. You get a bit nervous as you see her in mirror approaching you from behind, slowly running her hands down your back and lacing her arms around your waist slowly kissing her way up your neck not once breaking eye contact. "mmm, you're so tense baby, maybe i could help you with that." She sliding her hands up under your shirt, running her hands down your abs before taking it off of you. "mm that sounds amazing right now." you melt into her warm touch. You turn around and push her onto the bed. she lets out a little shriek before giggling. "I missed you so much today babe." you say as you lean over her kissing her neck. Dina smirks mischievously as she lies on her back, spreading her legs invitingly. "Oh did you now? Well, why don't you come over here and show me just how much you missed me," You giggle smugly as you kiss your way down her neck to her collar bone leaving hickeys as you go. Dina moans softly, arching into your kisses. "Ohh yeah, just like that... Keep going baby, don't stop." She slowly reaches up to tangle her fingers in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. She whimpers and squirms under your touch, her nipples hardening against the fabric of your shirt shes wearing. "Ooh fuck, Y/N.. Your hands feel so good on me." She whispers as she grinds her hips up slightly, seeking more friction against your body. "Mmm, lets get rid of this." you say in a deep raggedy voice as you take her shirt off her body, revealing her toned midriff and her bare breasts underneath. You start kissing and sucking on her nipples making her gasp, sending shivers down her spine. "Oh god, yes... you're driving me crazy Y/N. I need you so bad right now." she reaches her hand down into his boxers. You let out a sharp moan as she wraps her fingers around your stiffening cock, stroking it slowly. "Holy shit, baby... You're already so hard for me." she says nibbling on your ear. "I love seeing how much you want me." She teases giving the shaft a firmer squeeze and teases the tip with her thumb, smearing your pre cum around the head. You capture her into a deep, passionate kiss as you start running your hands down taking dinas underwear off, noticing a dark wet patch on them. "seems i'm not the only one whos needy" you say smuggly. Dina blushes deeply, biting her lip as you expose her dripping panties. "yeah well, you have that effect on me, hot stuff." She Wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. She takes your hand guiding it between her thighs, rubbing your fingers slowly against her slick folds, "see what you do to me? I'm soaking wet just thinking about how good you're gonna make me feel." You member hardens even more from hearing that. Dina whines softly as you slide two fingers inside her, curling them to hit her sweet spot deep within. "Ahh yes! Just like that... FFFFuck, your touch is incredible." She yells out rolling her hips, riding your hand as she grinds herself against your palm. "Mmm, i need more.... Please, Y/N." She pants heavily. You stand up for a split second to take off your boxers. Dina lets out a stifled moan as you slide you big thick cock into her, stretching her pussy deliciously wide. "F-f-Fuck, you fill me up so perfectly, baby.." her walls clench around you, feeling the sensation of being completely impaled on your shaft. "Don't hold back baby. Give me everything you've got... show me just how much you love me." She says struggling to catch her breath as she starts to move her hips, rolling them in slow, sensual circles as she adjusts to your size.

TIME SKIP (i know how rude of me)

The only sound in the room is the sound of panting coming from you and Dina as You both lay on your backs splayed out of breath both still coming down from your highs. You turn over and kiss her forehead. "That was.. legitness." You say jokingly quoting that vine. Dina just giggles "fuck yeah it was." 

"Hey Dina," "Yeah babe?" she says tilting her head looking up at you with a slight furrow in her brow. You let out a little chuckle, "ha you um" you look down between dinas legs seeing your combined juices oozing out and dripping down her thighs. " you're uh.. haha your kinda leaking baby." Dina blushes deeply, covering her face with her hands as you both laugh. "Oh my god, lol i guess i'm a bit of a mess huh?" Slowly she lowers her hands, wiping some of it off on her fingers. "yeah damn i guess i really did fill you up, haha sorry." you say with a cocky smirk on your face. "Never be sorry for that Y/N. Though we should probably get cleaned up before we stain anything else. I mean unless you want to finish the job yourself?" She says winking, a coy smile playing on her lips as she waits for your reaction. You get on your knees without hesitation and lick the cum trail in one swift movement from her thighs. Dina gasps, her breath catching in her throat as she watches you. "OH FUcK!" she runs her fingers through your hair, savouring the sensation of your warm mouth on her sensitive skin. You continue to lick and suck on her, tasting the proof of your passion. "oh god, you're such a dirty boy..." dina smirks, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. "Yeah?" you get up kissing dina on the lips. "Im YOUR dirty boy." you whisper into her ear as she moans into the kiss, her arms wrapping tightly around your neck as she pulls you in for a snuggle. "Mine.." she says breaking the kiss. Her heart full of affection and desire for this man who has claimed her in every way possible. "All yours baby girl." you say. "GO TO SLEEP YOU FILTHY ANIMALS!" sarah yells out from her bedroom which is right next to yours. You and dina both laugh, rolling your eyes at your sisters dramatic interruption. "Oh, shut up, you nosy parker!" You call back playfully, not bothering to hide the amusement in your voice. Dina kisses along your jawline, tracing patterns on your chest with her finger. "Now where were we?" you say to dina. "YOU WERE SLEEPING!" Sarah yells out again. "ahaha ok ok. Welp you heard the boss i guess we better get some sleep." You roll your eyes while pulling the blanket over yous. Dina sighs dramatically, pretending to pout at sarah's insistence. "fine, fine. YOu win this round =, boss." she cant help but smile as she snuggles deeper into the blankets, pulling you closer down beside her. She kisses your cheek then settles her head on your shoulder, listening to the steady beat of your heart. You both drift off to sleep, your bodies relaxed and content in each other's embrace.

[evilkitten3]

ok so like i agree with you in theory but. tbh there's not really a set "this is when you are an adult" age, biologically-speaking. generally, 16-22 seems to be where the average falls among cultural understandings of adulthood, but there's a wide range of ages that have been Official Adult Ages over time.

kawarama was seven, and itama even younger, but as shinobi they were considered to no longer be children (which.... understandable, in a deeply fucked-up way). let's say itama was 5/6. by the time naruto comes along, that age has doubled. that's an absolutely enormous difference.

hiruzen was 69 (nice) years old when he died. it's incredibly likely that he was born before the village was founded and thus spent his early years in that time of war where children barely out of toddlerhood were sent to die in battle. he may have even gone himself. so a 12yo being an adult in his eyes is progress. almost radically so.

kakashi, itachi, and the sannin were all noted to be exceptionally talented. the children in the warring states area were just regular kids, who unlike any of the aforementioned 5 had little training outside of what their families could provide them, and no "pass this test so we know you know what you're doing" verification. moreover, all of them were placed on teams with people meant to be guiding them along the way. itama died alone in the woods surrounded by five grown men with no qualms about killing a tiny kid shaking with terror with nothing but a kunai to defend himself (granted we don't actually know this for sure bc hashirama is telling this story and he. was not actually there in the moment)

hashirama and madara formed konoha to stop children - as in, people who were children in their eyes - from being sent to die on the battlefield. hashirama pretty clearly states that he doesn't think the current training being provided to child soldiers is sufficient. it should be noted that he and madara are maybe 13 here, and they seem not to consider themselves as children or adults, but somehow divorced from either. they talk about children as a separate group from themselves, but they clearly separate themselves from adults as well, seemingly for ideological reasons.

i've talked before about why butsuma's like that (and again @komehyappyou's explanation is better imo) so i'll skip that here, but i really don't think this should be viewed as things "staying the same". in terms of protecting children, the village system absolutely improved things. it's still a terrible situation, but it makes complete sense that people living in it - especially people who remember when it was significantly worse - would see it as reasonable.

i think a lot of the issue with how the child soldier thing is talked about in the fandom is due to the readers interpreting the words "child" and "adult" by their own cultural standards, and while that's not inherently wrong, it does leave a lot to be desired bc the world of naruto simply does not have a reason for those standards to exist. i mention real life historical japanese adulthood ages here, but i'll reiterate again that naruto by its nature can only draw so much from real life (for example: the time between the extremely modern-esque boruto era and the sengoku-based founders era is barely over a hundred years, whereas the real life reiwa and muromachi eras are separated by 446 minimum, meaning the timeline is operating on an incredibly condensed level in comparison to real life history)

This line from Hiruzen is brief but it says so much about the way Konoha operates. In this panel, Naruto is 12, but because he graduated from the academy and earned his headband, by Konoha standards he is now an adult. Following this logic that means that Itachi, the Sannin, and Kakashi, who graduated at ages 7, 6, and 5 respectively, would have also been regarded as adults. I don't think I need to explain why that's fucked up.

But what makes it worse is that it reminds me of another scene:

Kawarama Senju was only 7 when he died, but being a Shinobi meant Butsuma and the other adult ninjas viewed him as an adult. Hashirama and Madara formed Konoha in part to stop this attitude because they'd seen how badly it impacted their own families...but it took relatively little time for this practice to return, enforced by one of Hashirama's followers no less.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

[littlest-w01f]

What It's Like Dating...

Luke & Kieran 

LADS MASTERLIST

DRABBLED/HEADCANONS MASTERLIST

Summary: Dating headcanons with Luke & Kieran 

Cw: Fluff, smut, kinda twincest cause the same person thing, but they don't really do you together, also cuckholding from Sy

a/n: I can't stop thinking about them... Send help. Please.

They tried dating different people, ok. Really did.

But when you are as connected as they are to each other... Shit gets awkward.

Luke getting nightly visions of his brother's girlfriend's naked body was not something he desired, like at all, especially if his gf was beside him.

Kieran has better things to do than feel a phantom cunt clenching around his cock cause Luke is getting laid, or be feeling aroused for his brother's gf cause that's his brother's emotions but he is feeling them too.

Their hearts should not be skipping beats over the other's partner, but they see from each other's eyes, feel from each other's bodies and emotions.

Then you come into the picture, besties with their boss, as vicious as him, but also nicer. They'd never tell Sylus they think that, or you for that matter.

They ask you out together, almost like it was planned, they say it's something they are trying.

You start as fun only, picking one of them to fuck whenever you visited Onychinus, and they loved it too, even when you sleep with one, the other got the pleasure to see you and feel you like you were with him too.

They did fight over you, and got jealous over you spending time with Sylus, because boss-man was not a part of your relationship, one that didn't have a title yet.

Soon fuck buddies started feeling too casual, cause love got involved.

And man, did things get uncomfortable then, cause before it was just casual talk and then sex, now there were roses involved. Gifts, not heart pendants or whatever "gift your girlfriend" but meaningful gifts, from both parties.

You three started going out to suspiciously date-like places.

None of you knows how you got here. One day you were on them all carnal, raw lust, the next you were drinking a chocolate shake, sharing straws, talking about hope and dreams. Everything considered utter bullshit in the N109 zone.

Things got official when you joined Onychinus soon after; you shared a room with them at night, switching beds every night.

When they slept in your room, Luke was always on your right and Kieran on your left. Even outside of your bed, you three were a unit.

It pained you how much you loved these two idiots, their red hair and matching eyes, how wild Luke was, how peaceful Kieran was in comparison.

They are like two halves of one person, and you love them both equally.

And they showered you with love, too, in their own prankish way, they showed it. Not a moment went by that you didn't feel their love.

Out on missions, they would randomly pull their masks up and plant a kiss on you, come back with tickets to your favourite shows, sit with you at Sylus' karaoke, be silently shit-talking Sylus' off tune singing, before being forced on stage and the three of you couldn't sing either.

Sex felt too good after, when all the feelings were out, only then you understood the difference between fucking and love making.

Once you were just chasing release, now you chased fondness, the heat was now unbearable, something new, something intense.

You kissed over all of Kieran's scars, face and body, and kissed Luke in the same place regardless of the fact that the elder twin, had no scars to show for the pain they had both felt.

You three picked on Sylus together; you knew he would never kill either of you.

Well, as punishment for the twins' crimes, he did cuckhold them; you were his friend after all. Red and black mist of energy held them still as he made them watch as he took you.

Perhaps he was thinking that would make their antics stop, but it ended up making them double, maybe in hopes of seeing your eyes roll all the way back in your head for their boss again.

Being with them is fun and adventure at every corner, despite the hiccups, like you can't legally marry two people...

Which was fixed by Sylus and Mephisto pronouncing you illegally wedded as a joke.

Luke is the crazy you need, while Kieran is your calm; they know what you need and aren't scared to provide it.

It's best to have someone ready to remove people's kneecaps on a whim and someone to talk sense into you.

And you are perfect for them, too. The perfect blend of a partner they didn't know they needed.

{LaDs taglist: @edreavie @romanticatheartt}

[yuh13lo]

Sweet like sin

(Maybe a mini series?, cause I love them already)

Chris Sturniolo was used to walking into parties like he owned the place—even when he didn’t. In his line of work, confidence was currency, and he had plenty. He moved through the haze of smoke and bass-heavy music like a shadow, nodding at familiar faces, slipping hands into pockets, exchanging product for paper like it was second nature. Which it was.

But that night, something felt off—different. Maybe it was the smell.

Not weed. Not booze. Not sweat or smoke. It was cinnamon. Sugar. Vanilla. Something warm and homemade, like a secret whispered through the chaos.

He followed it, weaving through a sea of half-sloshed strangers, until he saw her.

She didn’t belong there.

Not in a bad way. She just looked… out of place. Like someone had dropped a bakery fairy into a frat rave. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs, a tray of cookies next to her. People were grabbing them like they were laced, but the girl kept laughing, telling them they were “just regular cookies.” Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, cheeks flushed with the kind of glow that had nothing to do with drugs.

Chris stopped, frozen in the doorway, watching her smile with that kind of ease he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“You want one?” she asked, catching him staring. Her voice was honey-dripped mischief. “They’re peanut butter. Best in the zip code.”

He raised a brow. “You always hand out snacks at parties you don’t seem to enjoy?”

She shrugged. “Only when I get dragged to them by my cousin who thinks I need to ‘get out more.’”

Chris smirked. “Well, I’m glad you got out.”

That was the beginning.

Her name was y/n. She didn’t smoke, didn’t party, and barely drank. But she baked like it was a religion—and her treats were damn near divine.

What started as an excuse to see her again turned into a habit. Chris would show up with a weak excuse and an empty stomach, and she’d have something cooling on the rack—lemon bars, snickerdoodles, brownies with just the right amount of goo in the middle.

One day, he brought over some THC oil. Just to see.

“You ever thought of baking with this?” he asked, holding it out.

She looked at it, then at him. “You’re trying to get me into trouble.”

“Only the fun kind.”

They started experimenting. Brownies, cookies, even banana bread. She had the skill. He had the supply. Together, they started cooking up something special—literally.

Word spread fast.

Chris’s usual clients were blown away. Orders doubled, then tripled. No more baggies and scale flicks in the backseat of his car. Now, he was delivering treat boxes with handwritten labels and cute warnings like “May cause giggle fits” or “Do not consume before math exams.”

Y/n didn’t care much about the money, but Chris started seeing a future in it—something legit, something that smelled like cinnamon and came with a smile.

Eventually, they moved into a tiny commercial kitchen. Called the place “Sweet Like Sin.”

She’d bake. He’d handle business. And every now and then, they’d sit in the quiet after hours, high on sugar or something stronger, wondering how a drug dealer and a cookie queen ended up building a little empire together.

He still didn’t think she belonged at that party.

But he was damn glad she was there.

[this-game-has-themes]

part 2 of 3 (part 1)

‘Shouldn’t be much longer now’, was what Abe said, much longer ago. The ridges of mountains on either side were the only indicators that they were moving forward, as the trees may as well have been identical after hours of travelling.

Howler trudged behind Abe, feeling her age as her knees clicked. It didn’t help that she shouldered their supplies; she suspected that Abe employed a touch of manipulation of her blossoming drone instincts to get her to do so. She wouldn’t have agreed to take both of their bags before, but now being called big and strong turned on something in her brain. Was it because Abe was becoming a queen? Would she have even noticed it if he didn’t tell her?

As curious as she was, it wasn’t any of her business. Just like it wasn’t any of his business as to why she was transitioning, herself.

Abe looked virtually unbothered with travelling on foot by comparison; he was ahead of her by a few paces at all times, to the point of occasionally stopping to let her catch up. His kindness, as always, came off as patronizing. He looked over his shoulder at her, leaning casually on a walking stick. “Any of this startin’ to look familiar to ya?”

Howler scoffed. “Nah mud, I didn’t go very far from the village.”

The more of her past she let slip, the more Abe’s curiosity piqued. She could see it in his eyes. “Too young?”

“Yeah. And when you’re the only princess, the tribe is gonna watch you like a steef.”

It felt alien still, to speak of her life before capture. The life she felt wasn’t hers anymore, that she almost didn’t deserve to keep in her heart. Though her past had faded at the edges in her mind, speaking it aloud brought some clarity to it again. It made it feel real.

Abe kept encouraging her with careful questions throughout the day, though she started to suspect it wasn’t just out of an interest in her tribe and culture. “Ah, so they were overprotective?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. It was… a big thing for them, me hatching. A queen can only bear princesses after she’s settled, and settling is a big deal.” Howler glanced over to find Abe hanging onto her every word. Just as she suspected. “So, did that mask-holder ever tell you anything about queenhood?”

A purplish flush rose in Abe’s cheeks. “He uh, he doesn’t know about… you know.” He gestured with little subtlety to the chest he kept covered. “None of the natives know, actually. I’m kind of figuring out how to tell them.”

There it was. Howler’s drone crest perked up in interest. “That so? You know, it’s gonna start becoming obvious real quick.”

“So were your drone feathers, and you still hid those.” Abe countered. It was Howler’s turn to go violet.

“... Alright, fine. Ya got me there.” She rolled her eyes at his sly little smile, and shifted the weight of their bags over her broad shoulder. “So, what do you want to know?”

Abe did a double take, his pace faltering. “Huh?”

“I said: what do you want to know about being a queen?” It was only a little satisfying to catch the branded mud off guard. She watched the embarrassed blush reach his forehead and neck.

“Well, uh. Everything, honestly. It’s not just that you’re - you were - a queen, you didn’t end up…” Abe’s voice was suddenly lost in his throat. A familiarly harrowed look passed over his face. “You didn’t end up an industrial queen. Like my mother.”

Howler considered his words for a moment, then said, “How long have you been on hormones?”

“Four months, at least.”

He watched the still-developing drone nod sagely. “No suitors yet?”

“Oh, uh, heavens, no.”

“You lookin’ to settle?”

“I don’t know what that means?”

“Settling is what queens do when they build a tribe.” Howler gave him a serious look. “Layin’ on the regular, becoming sedentary.”

Abe swallowed, hard. “I don’t know, honestly, I don’t… I don’t know if I can.”

“Well you’re scrub stock, so I don’t have high hopes, myself.”

He let out a sardonic groan at that. “Thanks.”

“It's for the best.” Howler picked up the pace. Ahead of them they could see the gradual end of the tree line, and at this point any change in landmarks would be welcome.

Abe caught up with her easily, unburdened and more suited to travelling on foot. “What do you mean by that?”

“Settling makes you vulnerable. You become the tribe’s most valued asset, and its biggest weakness.” Howler grimly stared straight ahead. “A queen gives up her entire life for her tribe, in more ways than one. Especially when industrialists come knockin’ on your door; if they take you, it’s worse than death.”

Abe knew exactly what she meant, and that understanding went unspoken in the look they shared. The branded mud carefully asked, “did they take your mother?”

Howler clammed up at that, and for a second Abe thought he had lost all that process opening her up in an instant. In truth, she was distracted by the treeline opening up before them. The valley they were entering held a wide, flat, golden field of tall grass; lined on either side by steep hills and rocky faces. Abe noticed a landmark on the far end, and pointed it out excitedly. “Hey, that’s gotta be the place, right?”

He was looking at the distant dome shape carved into the face of a cliff. Howler’s eyes had already lit up; but as she dropped her bags and jogged into the field, it was clear that it wasn’t what she was looking at.

Abe only passingly acknowledged the herd of very large, dome-shelled insects that grazed in the clearing. He was familiar enough with meetles, though they weren’t as common in the smog-choked industrial wastes and the Monsaic Lines beyond. Howler looked back at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile.

“I can’t believe it, all these years and they’re still here.” Emotion crackled in her synthetic voice. Abe felt a tug in his chest, empathetic even if he never had a home to go back to himself.

He considered catching up to her, but as she approached the meetles it became apparent that they were very large; much larger than a scrab, or an elum. With their size, it made sense that they didn’t seem to see Howler as a threat, though maybe there was more to that.

She circled around to the face of one, and it regarded her with a placid look in its four eyes. It continued to grase, ripping up the ripened, golden grass in front of it. Carefully, she placed a hand on a head that looked partially retracted under its broad, protective shell.

Abe flinched warily on her behalf. “Be careful-”

“Nah mud, it’s fine.” Howler waved him off, and pointed to the side of the grazer’s shell. A symbol had been scratched into it, old enough to only be faintly visible amongst the accumulated scratches and knicks it accrued from years in the wild. Abe internally compared the symbol to the shape of the temple in the distance, and it all suddenly clicked.

“Oh, these are Mudellan meetles, aren’t they?”

“And they’re still kickin’!” Howler patted the meetle’s shell firmly, and it made a pleasant drumming sound. “Thought the sligs would have driven them off. I guess they came right back during migration anyways.”

Cautiously, Abe approached the enormous creature, and gave it a tentative pat. He flinched back when it huffed in response.

Howler looked over the grazing herd with a prideful smile and misty eyes. “Oddamn, there’s so many of ‘em now.”

“They certainly got busy with no one else around, huh?”

“More like wild bulls must’ve settled right in…” Howler trailed off. Her face fell. “...Look.”

The meetle she pointed to stood out among the others, mainly for the faded, embroidered canvas still stretched around the dome of its shell. The saddle atop it was nearly falling off, but straps still remained in place for so long they cut deep grooves into the edges of its shell.

Abe watched as Howler approached, and the meetle acknowledged her more animatedly than its grazing fellows. It made a low, vibrating, gutteral sound, as if to greet someone it recognized. It hit Abe belatedly that maybe she did look like someone it recognized, now that she was a drone.

“Oh, you poor thing. You must’a had this thing on for years.” Howler tested the straps that anchored the canvas to its chell, and waved Abe over. “C’mere n’ help me with this, wouldja?”

Abe wasn’t much help, as Howler did most of the work using her bare hands to break the bonds without putting more distress on the meetle’s shell. It would have been easier to point out he still had a hunting knife amongst his travelling supplies, but… there was something impressive about watching her. Droning had certainly brought out the definition in her arms. Were her shoulders always that broad?

Not that he was staring. Or that he was still internally grappling with Howler’s transition. He had never cared for huge, flashy, preening drones before. But, he could admit those feathers were handsome on her, though they still had some growing to do. The thickset frame she had as a queen was redistributing all of that bulk into a more masculine shape, though her hips remained broad and her third row of breasts still threatened to slip out from under her shirt every time she raised her arms. She was very… distracting, now.

Abe hastily re-focused his efforts on helping the meetle. His own soft spot for animals made him wince, seeing the state of its shell from years of having it bound; it had become brittle looking and dull, sickly pale where the material had covered it. Watching the saddle get pulled off of it finally certainly looked like a massive relief for the animal.

As soon as it was free, the meetle grumbled in its low tone again. Abe imagined it to be a thank you, or at least a sigh of relief. The sections of its shell shifted for a moment, and with a measure of effort it opened to unfurl crumpled, misused wings. Howler winced in sympathy.

“It’s a miracle it survived this long not being able to fly, gettin’ left behind every migration.”

“Well, it looks like his herd never forgot about him.” Abe pointed to other meetles around them that mirrored their recently freed brethren in unfurling their wings. The sound of buzzing filled the air and made the grass ripple without the need for wind. When he glanced back at Howler, he found her inspecting the ruins of the saddle curiously.

There was still a silver charm tied to the fringe of it, an old decoration that hadn’t yet fallen off. The symbol of the Mudella, a facsimile of a meetle’s four-eyed face and dome shaped shell. Howler tried to look passive as she stared at it for a long moment before pocketing it.

“Guess that’s one thing to bring back.”

-

Traversing the field was not without its distractions, both from Howler gently harassing the meetles and the younger, feral members of the herd regarding the muds with caution and the occasional aggressive display. Howler, ever the stubborn one, retaliated by spreading her arms wide to mimic their raised shells, sending her own warning in their own language.

For as much as Abe acknowledged she changed, some things would always stay the same.

Thunder rolled faintly in the distance. Howler’s head snapped towards its direction before Abe could acknowledge it. Unlike her, he shrugged it off. “Hopefully we'll be inside by the time it rains.”

“If we can even get inside.” Howler muttered to herself.

The temple loomed before them, cut into the face of the cliffs; carved pillars held up a high ceiling at the entrance, shielding the door from the elements and covering it in shadow. As they got closer, it became increasingly apparent that there was no way to get up to it, from where they were at.

Howler paled a little at how far up it was. And how there seemed to be no walkways, stairs or ladders leading up to it.

Abe pointed out the shaggy fringe of foliage above it, at the top of the cliff. Faintly, one could make out the remnants of a rope bridge covered in vines. It hung limply over the edge, long since cut. “I guess that used to be our way to get in there.”

“One way to keep raiders out.” Howler noted.

They both stared at the sheer wall of rock that stood between them and their goals. Abe cracked his bandaged knuckles. “Welp, better get to it.”

Howler watched him promptly start scaling the wall. For a Mudokon, a surface like that was easy to simply climb… if they were a mud that could stand climbing.

He was about ten feet up before he looked down to find her keeping her two feet firmly on the ground. Howler tried to play off her hesitance with a shrug. “You uh, you go ahead, mud. I’ll keep watch down here.”

Abe glanced at her over his shoulder. “Aw c’mon, it’s not that high.”

“You jokin’? That’s like a hundred feet up! I ain’t fuckin’ climbing that.”

Abe dismounted, and landed on his feet. Unlike her, it seemed like he only got more nimble over the years. “Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of heights.”

Howler folded her arms, immediately going on the defense. “I ain’t afraid of heights, I’m afraid of falling.”

“I remember when you used to hold my hand on the catwalks up at the farms.” The teasing smirk Abe gave her was incredibly punchable. “I wonder what your boys think of a big tough guy like you being afraid to climb a few feet.”

“My boys never let me hear the end of it, let me tell ya.” Howler scoffed. Her drone crest fanned out irritably. “I ain’t exactly a spry little featherweight worker, if you haven’t noticed. I ain't haulin’ my fat ass up any mountains.”

“Well, I can’t just leave ya down here.” Abe scratched at his feathers thoughtfully for a moment. His eyes wandered in the direction of the fields they came from. “Say, meetles fly, right?”

Howler gave him a disapproving scowl. “You better not be doin’ what I think you’re gonna do with my meetles.”

“It’ll just be for a minute. I’m not gonna hurt them, or anything.”

“I’ve seen you turn people inside out with that kata shit-”

Abe held up a finger. “I turned sligs inside out. I don’t hurt animals if I can help it.”

“You ever even possess a meetle before?” Howler didn’t get an answer from him. Abe was already hunkering down into a position more comfortable for meditation, his head bowed and his hands clasped.

His chanting was quiet, but it still thrummed in Howler’s chest; a low and steady accompaniment to the beating of her heart. There was something striking about hearing it still. Something that made her want to join in, an instinct shared through generations of Mudokons. The kata was part of a mud’s soul that couldn't be bred or beaten out of them. The scar on Howler’s throat had been proof of that.

Howler had tried to harmonize with him before, and found the tones taught in their respective parts of Mudos differed too much. An off-key chant was fine for everyday ritual and meditative harmonies, but it wouldn't do for this. Still, humming quietly along with him under her breath satisfied that instinct.

A familiar buzzing came from behind them. Howler watched the lone meetle fly over the treetops, lower than it naturally would. With a resigned sigh, Howler held out her arms, and braced herself.

“You better not drop me, ya hear?”

She shut her eyes tight when she felt the meetle’s legs wrap around her, holding her close to the underside of its thorax. She gasped when she felt her feet lift off the ground. It was all Howler could do to force herself to swallow her panic, and pray that Abe knew what he was doing.

She couldn't open her eyes again until she felt her dangling toes brush against a cold floor. The possessed meetle dropped her rather unceremoniously, but it had successfully flown her to the entrance all the same. Holding onto a pillar cautiously, Howler looked down to watch Abe pilot the meetle all the way back down to the ground, and have it land safely before breaking his concentration.

As soon as its mind and body was its own again, the meetle seemed to look around its unfamiliar surroundings, disoriented and confused that it was away from the herd. Its upset lasted only a few seconds before it took wing again. Abe looked up at his traveling companion, and at this distance Howler could only assume he had a smug smile on his stupid stitched face.

Abe climbed his way to the top, himself. He made it look easy, save for the few missteps and broken handholds that made Howler clench everything in anticipation. She knew he wasn't the most graceful of muds. The saviour of the Mudokon race falling and breaking his neck would have been pretty unfortunate news to return home with.

When he reached the edge, Howler pulled him up the rest of the way with such ease that it made the branded mud gasp. Being manhandled didn't make his heart flutter like that before - or at least, being manhandled by her didn’t.

Their hands lingered on each other for a second too long. They both pointedly looked away from one another. Howler turned her attention to the door.

The circular stone door was easily twice their height, the stylized meetle face on it serving as the symbol of the Mudella. Its eyes were chunks of red rock, and the grooves that traced patterns around them looked more conspicuously deliberate than decorative. Howler preemptively groaned.

“Oh no, it's a puzzle.”

“Oh boy, it's a puzzle!” Abe clapped his hands together eagerly as he walked up to it. He looked over his shoulder to find Howler rooted to the spot. “C’mon Howler, it can't be that difficult if it's for the front door.”

“Yeah, you have fun with that, then.”

He ignored her remark, and focused on pressing in the ‘eyes’ in different sequences. Several failures were met with no response from whatever mechanism sealed the door 

Eventually, Howler sighed and ran a hand through her feathers. She butted in to make her own attempt.

“Here.” she pressed the buttons in a combination she seemed familiar with. To Abe's surprise, a dull clicking heralded the mechanisms springing to life; with the grinding of stone against stone, the two halves of the face parted to slide into perfectly fitted openings in the rock. Stale, ancient air blew hit their faces.

“How the heck didja get that in one go?!”

Howler rolled her eyes. “I drew the Mudellan letter for ‘M’. You know. For Mudella?”

She went ahead and entered first. Abe narrowly sidestepped her shoulder-check. “Well it sounds obvious now that you say it.”

The sun bleeding through the doorway had to have been the first light to touch the temple in untold years. With each tentative step inside, they both kicked up glittering plumes of dust in the sunshaft. Squinting in the shadows, Abe made out the unmistakable shape of an unlit torch on the wall.

“That’s helpful,” he pointed out, smiling to himself. He handed it to Howler, because predictably she was the one who kept a lighter on her person. “More of these places need these right at the door. I’m always stumbling in the dark in temples.”

Howler smirked as she lit it up for him. “Thought a hero-type like you would come more prepared.”

Abe sighed; he didn’t find the jab so lighthearted. He took the torch a little too curtly, and mumbled, “do you even want me here or not?”

Howler’s heart sank a little. “I didn’t mean it like that, mud.”

He went off deeper into the chamber without her. Howler had to find her own torch before she could catch him. She found him still giving her the cold shoulder. “C’mon mud, you know my n’ my own tell each other to kill ourselves a dozen times before breakfast.”

Abe stopped, and held out the torch towards a wall. In the orange glow of firelight, stylized carvings of familiar figures decorated the walls. Muds, meetles, elums… Glukkons. Abe leaned forward to squint at the vertical lines of writing that accompanied them. “Say, can you still read this? I only know south Mudanese.”

She was still rusty at it, having no opportunity to even see Mudellan characters since… odd, since seeing what was left of them in Necrum. Or what wasn’t left of them. Seeing more complete sentences tripped her up.

“We remain… standing - no, unmoving - against the ‘lo-’ - no, ‘lūr-’... I think this is just straight up callin’ the Glukkons a slur.”

“They really are your people, huh.” Abe said flatly.

“Mudellans were all high n’ mighty about standing their ground against the deforestation industry, up until they couldn’t be.” Howler took a step back, taking in the whole scene. “They dug their temples into mountains and carved their names into rocks, letting everyone know they were stubborn and unbothered as meetles. Up until they weren’t.”

There was a beat of silence. The fire of their torches crackled gently. Abe looked at Howler from the corner of his eye. “Sounds like someone I know.”Howler sighed, and continued onward. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s keep movin’.”

[muirneach]

allow me to get yaoiful about the canadian tennis curse real quick. anyways. possible correlation between the downfall of denis’ career and whatever messy breakup he and felix had. when was the last time we had proof of them being besties. back when denis was doing well. coincidence?? also, what even happened there. because felix in those atp youtube videos always says ‘MY GOOD FRIEND denis shapovalov’ etc etc. he always always says my good friend. even like a month ago or whenever the last time he was in atp video was. but then, denis does not give him the time of day it seems. like what is that about. anyways, if they played doubles together again (rogers cup pleaseeee for the home crowd 🙏) i think denis would be back on the rise. and post

[shorthaltsjester]

watching the sdcc panel and i am just very :) about how sweet their answers to “what are some of the micro moments from the game that have stuck with you the most over the years?” are. taliesin saying what the fuck is up with that which was the first like The Party Gets To Know Each Other moments of c3. travis saying asking his wife if he could kiss her in campaign. marisha going way back to the cannonball competition in campaign one. ashley choosing the beauyasha date but also just the silly goat noise matt made. liam adding onto that to compliment matt roleplaying grass so well and then saying his favourite moment was writing a story for laura and reading it to her as caleb for jester. and then matt saying that was his answer, and that his favourite moments of the game are when they find ways to give gifts to each other whether tangible or not. and sam saying his favourite moments have less to do with the story and is more so when he can just. see his friends across the table from him. when marisha perches and when laura and ashley are (badly) drawing dicks and liam saying he loves when sam sneezes and ashley tells him to stop it and just. yeah. they Are an extremely popular online powerhouse, but i’m so happy that they’re also friends building a world together out of gifts to and love for one another.

like i Am so enamoured with the characters and the world of exandria but the moments when you can feel the love that those people have for each other reach out from behind the stained glass of their performances (to steal a metaphor from brennan lee mulligan) are so extremely special and i am endlessly grateful that they decided to share their silly little home game with the world.