#but wow this got long surprise surprise

[navree]

this is dc twitter discourse at the moment so i thought i'd ask your thoughts on it do you think red hood jason hurting children is ooc/a bad writing choice???

And this ladies and gents is why I avoid DC Twitter because I don't think I've seen any good takes there ever, no matter where you are. Sometimes people post panel compilations that hurt my heart, that's the like the only good thing to come out of it, I don't even click on the MAWS hashtag if it trends while the show is airing because last time I did it was people bitching that 25 year old Slade did not look or act the same way that current in his forties Slade does (not to mention, how can you complain about MAWS Slade? he's the best part about the show how did anyone not just fall over laughing with delight the second he showed up and proclaimed himself to be literal Slade Wilson?).

With that said, yeah I would consider that to be a bad writing choice. Talking about characterization for comics is hard because, as I've mentioned, comics is an incredibly decentralized creative medium in a way none others are. Movies, TV shows, novels, they all tend to have a main core group of people or even just one solitary person in charge of the creative direction, and for a lot of them, a very finite "this is where we start and this is where we end" mentality that comics do not. These characters have had constantly changing creative heads, with new directions and ideas for characterization attached, since their inception, and they've all been around for a very long time. This is why comics are kind of the only medium where you can, in fact, really pick and choose your canon, because the canon has changed so much depending on who is in charge at a giant company. Like, canonical eighties Batman characterization would be considered super OOC for someone writing canonical modern Batman, and vice versa. So talking about characterization is hard, especially with Jason when nobody has had any idea what to fucking do with him for decades at this point. But, when it comes to Red Hood Jason, there is something I consider gospel canon, which is the Under the Red Hood arc, since that is what nearly all subsequent canon imaginings of Jason take from. That is our gold standard here. And based on UTRH, yeah, Jason harming children is out of character and it is bad writing.

When Jason comes back, he has two very clear goals. Goal one: the Joker's gotta die, preferably Batman kills him so Jason gets concrete proof that he was loved and mourned (Jason is not mentally healthy so his thought process doesn't make sense just roll with it), but Jason is fine killing the man himself, so long as he dies. Goal two: essentially fulfill Batman's mission in a way where it actually accomplishes his goals. Jason outlines this pretty specifically in Batman #641, he tells Bruce "You. I'll be you. The you you're supposed to be." Jason's goal as the Red Hood is to make Gotham better (in his head), safer, and cleaner, but unlike Batman he is willing to take that goal as far as he can and will kill if necessary. What he wants is to just take Batman's mission to its logical extreme. Eradicate the various elements that have caused suffering in Gotham throughout the years, just with more permanence than Batman does, and less of a focus on rehabilitation, because you can't rehabilitate a dead person. And as part of this, Jason does not act unnecessarily. When he kills, it is people who (arguably) deserve it, and it is never innocents. It is always the criminal element, and people he believes are past the point of no return, as well as those who might be trying to stop him in that. His mission statement is literally "Death will come to those who deserve death, and death may come to those who stand in my way of doing what's right." and he means that. This is not a character you've created to then go out and harm children, because kids have not done anything to deserve it, and they are not the cause of the issues that he is trying to eliminate.

There's also the fact that Jason, even in his early Red Hood days where editorial just decided that he's a straight villain now, was never someone who went after kids, but in fact actively tried to help them. He makes it a point to tell his people that they do not sell drugs to kids and that if they do, he'll kill them (along with telling them not to get previously clean people hooked and only sell to repeats, which also paints him as someone who isn't just hurting others willy-nilly). The first person Jason ever kills, as seen in Red Hood: Lost Days, is a man who was involved in child trafficking, and he does it specifically because he wants to save those kids and future victims from him, and considers him scum of the Earth as a result (I think his name was Egan? Egon? idfk I don't reread Lost Days because I find their whole "look at fully adult Talia fucking the mentally ill sixteen year old under her care who is reliant on her for everything, how sexy" shtick abhorrent, and using Talia as their child rapist doubly so). So Jason, even at his most villainous, at his most "this is a bad dude" characterized, is someone who deliberately avoids harming innocents because it's not compatible with his mission or his personal code, and includes children very specifically in that.

It is also out of character and a bad writing choice because of Jason's own childhood. You might think a rebuttal to this is "Jason wants to kill/hurt criminals, what if kids are criminals" well guess what Jason was a kid criminal! It is actually illegal to steal parts off of people's cars, even if that person can afford it because he's Batman (to say nothing of the multiple very heavy handed hints dropped that Jason solicited as a prostitute during his time being homeless, which is also a crime, it is illegal and he would have been picked up by the cops for it if found out). Unless you want to argue that Jason thinks he himself should have been taken out with a Glock at the big of age of eleven for doing illegal things in the name of survival, you can't say that Jason's philosophy would allow him to harm children and remain in character or decently written, you just can't. Like, your other gospel for Jason's characterization should be his original Robin run from the 80s, since that's literally what introduced him to this world in the first fucking place, so duh. And there's nothing in that characterization to suggest that he would harm anyone unnecessarily, especially kids. Like, Robin Jason spares Two-Face's life, after having found out days ago that Two-Face murdered Willis Todd in cold blood; he tries to save Sheila Haywood's life after she straight up helps murder him; this isn't someone whose characterization allows for him to hurt children later in life. Especially once you factor in his struggles as a child, and how that most likely just breeds empathy for other children, especially children who are having a hard time.

Now, I can guess that some of this comes up in discussions of one of my most loathed subjects, the stupid bad stupid dumb stupid attack on fucking Titan's Tower. Now, even beyond the fact that the stupid attack on stupid Titan's Tower is less about Jason wanting to beat up children and more his specific issues with Bruce and the concept of Robin that can't be transplanted to other people, the attack itself is bad writing. It is out of character for Jason. It does not jive at all with his stated characterization and motivations that he himself outlined (also the only other closest thing to that is his fight with Mia Dearden, where he's pretty tame in just warning her to leave vigilantism and straight up beats her twice before letting her go relatively unscathed of his own free will, just saying) and it makes no sense. His issues are that the Joker is alive and Batman didn't do anything about it. Why the fuck would he care about Tim? Tim means nothing to him, he never even met the little dude, he doesn't have an issue with him. He doesn't even have an issue with the idea of Robin being passed down because Jason literally said he was perfectly content to not be Robin and just be Jason, and his problems don't arise from Robin! The issues at the heart of Jason's conflict with Bruce hinge on the Bruce and Jason relationship of father and son, not Batman and Robin! And not fucking Tim! Tim means nothing, he is a nonentity. The only reason this fuckass plot exists is because DC didn't know what to do with Jason and threw shit at the wall to see what would stick, similar to what we saw with that dumb plot with Nightwing from this time that also has similar issues, in that why would Jason care enough to cause problems for Dick, he doesn't have an issue with Dick, he legit interacts with Dick in UTRH and he's fine! (a better writing decision would have been post-UTRH Jason immediately writing the entire Batfam off and treating them as hostiles whenever they wander into Crime Alley and them having to regain his trust back/him agreeing to let down more and more barriers as time goes on and they all reconnect, but I was like seven when all this was being written so DC didn't seek my input) The fucking dumb Titan's Tower thing that people are gonna use to prove that Jason hurting kids isn't bad writing isn't even about Jason, the only reason this shit gets trotted out again and again is because Tim Drake has a lot of fans who are absolutely convinced their poor uwu baby has suffered more than Jesus when the only person in the Batfam who's suffered less than him is, like, Alfred (although I can make the argument that Alfred has still suffered more by having had to put up with Bruce Wayne almost singlehandedly for most of his adult life). It exists in people's minds even tho it is objectively bad writing and out of character for one of the main players because fanon Tim has to be the most special boy ever (and also because these people wanna use it to make Tim interesting which is impossible because nothing can make Tim interesting).

Jason hurting children deliberately is, indeed, bad writing. It is, in fact, incredibly out of character. It does not compute to his explicit motivations and how he was characterized in the stories that have since been used as a jumping off point for his characterization ever since. And ultimately, the thing is this: if Red Hood Jason is just trying to do Batman's job better than Batman, who is he doing it for if not children? Who is he trying to clean up Gotham for, make Gotham a better place for, if not her children? And if that's the case, as it obviously is, why on Earth would him then harming her children be any kind of good character writing or coherent characterization?

TL;DR, yes it is.

[goginaporter]

lyrical analysis of love you forever

or, breaking down ricky's love (confession) for gina

we're a little under three months out from the series finale of high school musical: the musical: the series. I've spent those months freaking out over rina and appreciating the beautiful arc they got in s4 that closed out their story over the course of the series. there are a million special moments that rina has in s4 (I mean, a rain kiss? can I have this dance? a duet together about their commitment to each other despite uncertainty? we really got it all) but one definitely stands out among the rest. love you forever is ricky's declaration of love for gina that he sings to her at her press conference for her new movie that, as far as he knows, is about to send her across the world. this post is gonna be a line by line analysis of the lyrics, as well as talking about everything that brought them to that moment and that made it special. enjoy <33

I've been wishing on a falling star for too long

this line opens the song and is such a beautiful callback to when there was me and you, the song ricky all but serenades gina with in 1.06 (the lines it references: I thought you were my fairy tale / A dream when I'm not sleeping / A wish upon a star / That's coming true). wtwmay is a song that gabriella sings after troy's betrayal in hsm and when ricky sings this line, to me, it represents a callback to his past relationship with nini. he was holding on to nini and that relationship too tight, wishing on a falling star. as gabriella says, wishes on stars just "don't come true" and for ricky, this relationship ultimately ended in failure. however, as much as this line signifies the crash and burn nature of that relationship, it's also a reference to the start of his relationship with gina in that bunker room as he strummed on a guitar, in a similar fashion to love you forever, to these lyrics.

I've been running, I don't know what from

this line references the conversation that ricky had with ej in 4.05 when ej forces ricky to reckon with the fact that he runs away from those he loves when faced with hard realities and that this tendency hurts both those around him, but also hurts him. it's incredibly full circle when you pair this with the fact that ricky is singing the song on the guitar ej gave him after they sang speak out, where ej tells him that "you'll probably get more use outta this than me" (4.05). i think it's really cool that this line also references gina's similar character flaw of running when things get hard, which she also sings about in second chance (Maybe I'm safer when I'm on the run / No time to open up my heart / Maybe I'll hide behind my walls again / Instead of tearing them apart) (also important to note that second chance is non-digetic and ricky has never heard gina sing these lyrics). so fascinating that ricky and gina have the same habit of running, with ricky running back to things that are familiar and gina pushing forward to leave things in the past before they can hurt her.

But you and I've become a sacred kinda home

this is one of my favorite lines of the song, especially because this theme of finding a home is such a critical cornerstone for both ricky and gina's arcs throughout the show. ricky's home life in s1 turns on its head when he discovers that his parents are separating. pairing this with his breakup with nini nearly sends him into a spiral, but he finds a new home of sorts in the theater program, telling gina "it's just nice to have somewhere to go after school every day, y'know" (1.05), which she herself resonates with, affirming his feelings.

of course, at the beginning of s2, we find out that ricky and his dad are moving to an apartment after his mom moves out. this drastic shift, the loss of his childhood home, is again disorienting, and again paired with changes with nini, what with her moving to denver. in 2.02, he tells nini that she is his home, which is really interesting, placing that kind of pressure on her. but what's even more interesting is that he knows he's moving, knows from the beginning of 2.01, and yet nini does not find out about his new home until 2.03 on valentine's day, months later. this is juxtaposed to gina showing up to his apartment that same episode. it's especially special that ricky is placed in the same situation that gina typically faces, the unpacking and getting accustomed to a new space. it is those undertones that serve as the undercurrent for their conversation. the apartment is in disarray when gina arrives, and remains that way for much of the season. gina, however, is endeared by the messy environment of the apartment and jokes along with ricky to put him at ease. by the time we return to it in s4, it's (naturally) much more lived in, with clothes strewn about, pictures of gina, and aptly placed posters lining the wall of ricky's room.

as I mentioned earlier, ricky calls nini his home in s2. this line says that he and gina together have become a home of sorts for each other. singing this to gina is important for ricky, but it also speaks to the unpredictable nature of gina's childhood, where she moved from city to city, never staying in one place for more than a few months, which she tells ricky in 1.05. by the end of s1, we think that she has to move again, something that's harder for her now that she's made connections with the wildcats, namely with ricky. as we see in the flashback scene in 2.06, she tells ricky that she wouldn't quit on them if not for her move, that they would essentially remain close if she weren't leaving salt lake. of course, she doesn't leave and instead moves in with ashlyn. it's her first taste of stability that she can really remember, but as she tells carlos in 2.04, she feels out of place living in a house she doesn't own and with a family that isn't hers. these feelings culminate in gina wanting to leave, a subplot we see primarily in 2.05 and 2.06. after revealing to ashlyn what she said to ricky opening night of hsm, ashlyn sings home from beauty and the beast to gina, telling her that she has a home with ashlyn, not just physically, but within their friendship. there is so much symbolism in that one scene that we don't have time to get into but this moment definitely shifts gina's perception of what a home can look like. in s3, we learn that her mom is moving back to salt lake city where she'll be staying long-term to allow gina to complete her time at east high. in fact, it's in this very house that we get our first scene of rina in s4, with ricky sneaking into her window. one's room is a reflection of oneself, and ricky and gina are all over each other's rooms, both literally and figuratively, throughout the season. combining this with the connection between the two that only strengthens over the course of the season, it comes as no surprise that ricky sees his and gina's relationship as a sacred home.

I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love and I know it / No net, no fear, right here in this moment

my twitter account was littered with theories and thoughts and hopes for ricky's love confession to gina, but whether it was public or private, planned or spontaneous, the one thing that I knew I wanted was for ricky to say that he is in love with gina. so on august 9th when ricky got to the chorus of love you forever, tears started pooling in my eyes because the confession, which was already literally perfect, delivered my biggest wish. one of my favorite aspects of the song is how much it reflects their journey because these are all the words that ricky would tell gina in some big speech, evidenced by him practicing all throughout 4.07. but when it comes down to it, after references to moments between them and beautiful metaphors, it builds to him telling gina not only does he love her, but that he's in love with her. there's no doubt in his mind of this fact. the sky is blue, the sun shines, and ricky bowen loves gina porter. so much of ricky's love for nini was tied to fear, especially a fear of change. that his love for gina transcends fear, that he is confident in what he tells her both shows his growth in romantic relationships but also in how much gina has redefined what it means to love someone for him.

I've never been more sure of what I got, yeah / Cause this is so much more than puppy love, so

continuing with the theme of confidence, ricky tells gina that he's never been more sure of what he's got in their relationship. I know I'm bringing rini up a lot but that relationship is a perfect frame of reference for how much ricky has changed when it comes to love. both his singing of I think I kinda you know in 1.01 and his love confession to nini in 1.10, while genuine, are riddled with stuttering and uncertainty ("I think", "I don't know", etc.). when you compare the ricky of 1.01 and the ricky of 4.08 and how he attempts to use song to profess his love, the differences are stark, and that's the point. as he all but said in 3.08, everything he's known about love has been changed by gina and that is reflected in love you forever. I love the puppy love nod and think it's narratively important for so many reasons. for one, it's a reference to their first date, as well as to gina's childhood. in that vein, it seems to mirror what gina tells ricky in 4.02, that mack was a crush of her childhood. calling what they have "more than puppy love" also nods to their growth, not just over the course of the series, but even throughout the season. from dealing with scrutiny in the fallout of the documentary to gina's increasingly busy schedule to their temporary pause to gina nearly moving across the world, they've been faced with many problems, and while they didn't handle all of them perfectly, they handled them together and came out that much stronger.

I'll say it first, no matter what the cost / Here I am full heart, full stop / I love you

in 3.05, ricky talks to jet following the fallout of the real campers of shallow lake drama. he asks jet what he's running from and tells him that sometimes when feelings are hard to articulate, it helps to sing instead. with love you forever, we see ricky taking his own advice. I love that ricky is insistent that he tells gina "I love you" first, both because he wants to rectify mistakes from his last relationship, but also because gina says, in a talking head, that she doesn't want to be the first to say "I love you," (4.06) further cementing the connection that rina has. it also affirms that there is no doubt in either of their minds that they love each other and want to say it to each other. it's also important to note that ricky understands the risk of singing this song at this point in time. for all he knows, gina is about to board a plane that will be taking her to the other side of the world for six months. however, he sings this song, affirms his love for her, no matter the cost, because he just wants her to know. he loves her in salt lake, he loves her in new zealand, and he loves her forever. ricky sings that he is there with a full heart, full stop I love you. in an interview after s3's finale, tim federle, the showrunner, states that while nini will always have a small part of ricky's heart, gina has a way of making hearts race. this line, to me, symbolizes the notion that gina is his heart, that his love for her encompasses it. there's a beautiful analysis of ricky being gina's heart canonically that I think helps tie all of this together, establishing that gina is ricky's heart, just like he is hers.

of course, I would be remiss to not talk about the full stop of it all. as we see in a flashback in 4.06, ricky opens up to gina in their first meeting about how he struggled saying I love you to nini, his ex. after hearing this, gina presents him with a possibility you can tell he's never considered: "maybe you just don't love her, full stop." ricky stutters in response, but doesn't fully negate gina's statement, in fact telling her that he's "kinda" planning on telling nini through song later that night outside her window (ironic that this plan doesn't pan out for him twice in the show, both here and in 2.03). that he brings up this notion of full stop, where there's no room for doubt, in his confession for gina further proves how deep and real and true their love is for each other. super small thing before I move on but I love how "I love you" gets its own special moment of pause in the song to fully communicate the gravity of such a statement.

I never knew that I could feel so sure and so strong /How can three old words feel so brand new?

Again, this idea of being sure comes up again in this second verse/buildup to the chorus. ricky has done the love confession before. he's been in love before. but again, with gina, it's different. it's deeper, more strong, more secure. and so when he says these words, in a situation that mirrors his audition for hsm, of course it feels different. in that auditon, he was singing nini's words back to her. love you forever, in contrast, is all ricky. those three words do feel new because now he's singing them to gina and for gina, where previously he sang them for himself. also a really cool note about the parallels between ricky's audition and love you forever is that tim federle released the initial script for love you forever, and one of the descriptions writes that ricky "launches into the audition of a lifetime." this song, this confession, is the start of his forever with gina. of course these words feel new.

Mm, so rare, so real right here in this moment / And I'm starin' at the only thing I want, so

I tear up hearing ricky say that the love that he has for gina is both rare and real. both ricky and gina, at different points throughout the show, cast doubt on love. ricky says in a talking head in 1.01 that love is dead (fun fact: ricky is wearing the same denim jacket from that talking head during love you forever teehee). gina, in the 4.06 flashback, calls love lame. their faith in love ebbs and flows throughout the show, but once they are together, there's no question. it's why ricky encourages the seblos reconciliation in 4.06 or why gina tells jet to confess his feelings for kourtney in 4.08. if they've found this beautiful love in each other, where they got a second chance on love in every sense of the words, why wouldn't they want that for everyone else, for the people that they love?

the second half of this lyric, of ricky "staring at the only thing he wants," is my absolute favorite line of love you forever. ricky's eyes are naturally drawn to gina in nearly every episode of the show, whether she's looking at him or not, whether they're speaking or not. even before he recognized those feelings in himself, we could see it because she was always the apple of his eye. this rings especially true during love you forever, where ricky does not take his eyes off of gina the entire song, except when miss jenn turns the lights on. gina is the center of his universe and who he has been drawn to since she entered his life. there was a tweet after s4 aired that stated that ricky looks at gina as though he's falling deeper in love with her every time and this line captures that.

I wanna finish what we started in the stairwell where we met

the bridge opens with this line and it's so fitting. to suggest that committing to loving each other forever is finishing what they started when they had that first conversation in the stairwell is so insane and will always make me spiral when I think about it. this line all but confirms that ricky and gina began to fall for each other in that moment. that their conversation in the stairwell is what catalyzed their respective character arcs also all but confirms that they're soulmates, that there was an invisible string that connected them, inexplicably tying their fates together forever.

I wanna live like I have never even heard the word regret

both ricky and gina have instances that they look back on and wish they had done things differently. gina says so explicitly in 2.05 when speaking to kourtney. she alludes to her goodbye to ricky after hsm's opening night, stating that it was something she wishes she could take back. in 3.06, ricky tells jet that he wishes that he didn't let color war gina slip through his fingers, suggesting that he would've done things differently if he were more cognizant of his feelings for her. ricky never wants to feel like that again, that he's missed his chance with gina due to fear. he wholeheartedly embraces his love for her because he knows what it was like to live without it and doesn't want to live in a world where gina isn't his reality.

I wanna scream what's in my heart and I won't ever take it back

ricky and ej's duet in 4.05 is about speaking your truth and speaking even when it's hard. the song even has a line about "screaming out." where in speak out, screaming out solicits no sound, ricky singing this line in love you forever is him being able to vocalize the feelings in his heart. he also commits to never taking these words back. his feelings for gina are eternal and everlasting. this is important for gina to hear because words have always been unreliable to her. people that she cares about, whether her mom or jamie or even e.j., have made verbal commitments to her at one point or another, and each one of them has later reneged on that commitment, whether intentionally or not. ricky can say these words, can say "I love you" to gina, because he's been saying it through his actions the entire show. gina doesn't always trust words, but she trusts actions. ricky has more than proven his love for her, and it's this continued declaration through his works that allows these words to ring true for her.

'Cause I love you feels a lot like high school and forever after that

I made this observation a couple weeks ago but this line is so fascinating. when the season first dropped and I heard the line, I was a tad confused. what does it mean for love to feel like high school? I was listening to the hsm3 soundtrack when it all clicked for me. in high school musical, the final song they sing in hsm3, the last line is "I want the rest of my life to feel just like a / High school musical" with this line, ricky is basically saying that he will love gina for the rest of his life. throwing in a hsm reference is also incredibly fitting given that they've just completed the first night of their run as troyella, further cementing their legacy as the troyella of the show. i love that, even when the bridge is repeated, ricky and gina are the only ones to sing these lines. when the bridge is sung for the third and final time, ricky and gina are now together on stage singing the words "I"m in love, I'm in love, I'm in love" to each other in between the lines of the bridge. the song closes with ricky singing "I love you feels a lot like high school" with gina singing "and forever after that." I love this ending for two reasons: ending the song with rina singing together re-emphasizes that they're in love, and in love together (for the first time), as tim mentions in an interview. I also love it because even as the wildcats join to sing the bridge near the end of the song, ricky and gina are the only people to sing the lines "I'm in love x3" and "I love you feels a lot like high school." even though their friends step in to sing some lines, ultimately, the song is a love song for gina, about gina, and that's why it ends with her. as tim (love how much I'm referencing him) mentioned in an interview, rina is the beating heart of the romance of the show, and their friends coming in to sing along to ricky's love song for gina fully solidifies this.

[knockknockitsnickels]

Thoughts about Prison3r bc she's making me go insane

Spoilers under the cut (also minor spoilers - chapter name & brief discussion of other routes - in the tags, so don't read those lol)

I have a feeling the Cage is going to get overshadowed by Sp3ctre & Happily Ever After, but I was really surprised by the direction they took her in, and I think she makes Pris all the more tragic as a character.

IMO, the Prisoner route kind of functions as a giant trust fall. You've established in the previous chapter that you're skeptical of this whole setup (hence voice of the skeptic, lmao) and willing to help the Princess, and this route puts that to the test. Can you focus on what's important without getting caught up in questioning irrelevant details (the empty shackle)? Can you trust the Princess enough to give her your weapon? And on the other side of that, can she trust you to understand her plan?

Part of what makes the Prisoner compelling to me is the unspoken trust she has in the player (part of why I've never understood the take that she doesn't actually care about you? Maybe we've got some Autism2Autism telepathy going on though). Her lines in the Shifting Mound fight (if you free her) talks about how "shared skepticism blossomed into trust", and the Drowned Grey further implies that she put a lot of trust and hope in the player which they ended up betraying.

I was expecting Prison3r to play with that betrayal of trust - she showed we could trust her, but her trust in us was misplaced. It doesn't really matter if you leaving the head was an honest mistake or not, we still let her down. I was expecting a scenario where we'd be stuck apologizing to a Princess who couldn't bring herself to trust us again, no matter how sincere we were being. I was expecting her to be angry. I didn't expect her to just... give up.

If the Drowned Grey is meant to represent the Prisoner (metaphorically) letting go of the tight control she has of her emotions, (literally) drowning you in her (metaphorical) grief and rage, then the Cage is the opposite, locking her emotions even deeper away. Shifty describes her as (paraphrasing here, emphasis mine) "someone who wishes she could be just a set of eyes and ears." The Cage isn't angry with you for leaving her behind. Why should she be? It was her mistake, after all. She shouldn't have been so stupid to think she could break the cycle and actually be freed.

The route also plays with the contrast between the Princess and the Player (via the voices) in fun ways. While the Cage is already resigned to repeating the cycle, skeptic (and paranoid, if you get him) are panicking for the whole route, trying desperately to find a way out of it while unintentionally forcing you to into the same patterns as before (by forcing us to take the knife. Thanks guys, very cool).

It honestly feels like the perfect response to the common fan complaint of "Why is the Prisoner mad at you for leaving her head behind? It was an accident!". Well, here you go. She's not mad at you. It would honestly feel better if she was.

[shivasdarknight]

Time for your regularly scheduled, "Killjoy Hour with Enya" because we're being a killjoy about Dawntrail (:

So first and foremost: fuck Square and the XIV team for taking this angle. We could've gone any direction and we're going with Colonizer The Adventure. They looked at what we did on the Steppe with Hien and went "let's do it again! :D"

Mandatory CW for racism as it pertains to the indigenous peoples of North America, Mesoamerica and South America, and discussion of the genocide enacted by Spain against Mesoamerica and South America.

(Sections and the first letter of each sentence have been bolded for ease of reading)

But to explain further: Square has a really awful track record with their take on Tural, the "New World", especially in their handling of the Mamoolj'aa that are in Eorzea. This has been an issue since ARR and has been frequently criticized due to their extremely anti-indigenous writing. The way they handle the Eorzean tribes (which have been known as "beast tribes" and "beastmen" for a good part of the past decade that XIV has been around, I Should Not have to explain to you why that's deeply problematic) is an issue in its own right, but I'll only touch on what we've seen of Tural in the game itself and why this doesn't bode well for Dawntrail.

Let's get the obvious one out of the way first, this fucking shit:

For those unaware, this is the New World set. It's a craftable gear set from Heavensward that players can wear as a goddamned costume. I shouldn't have to be saying this in 2023, but this set has caused a great deal of controversy because it's a bastardization of plains tribe regalia. Square never should have added it to the game, but here it is and players constantly wear it in further offensive glams.

The only instance of this set being used with NPCs is in the Blue Mage quests and what we see of the Whalaqee. Again, to those unaware: the ARR Blue Mage quests are an extremely racist storyline that plays into white savior narratives and more offensive caricatures. The only representatives that we get to interact with of the Whalaqee are a little boy in this outfit (who's also extremely pale), and two Mamoolj'aa who are the lackeys of Martyn, the job trainer for Blue Mage - a white man! Further, the magic is notably not from Eorzea and is instead a cultural practice of the Whalaqee that Martyn took and turned into profit, and he's who you're supposed to work for. You are - yet again - considered a master of the practice, and this is written in mind with a default white man in mind considering Meteor being the stand in for everything. There is in-game appropriation of cultural practices, clothing, and tools but it gets worse the further you go into them.

The main plot of the ARR quests is that the Whalaqee are dying from a plague brought toTural by Martyn and other researchers with the Arcanist's guild 🙃 There were two trips: one to study Blue Magic, and one where people from the first trip went back because they found ceruleum in the sacred lands of the Whalaqee and began drilling for it. But remember: you only get to meet the Whalaqee through the two Mamoolj'aa and the Whalaqee child. The fate of the tribe rests in an Eorzean's hands because they put the medicine behind a bet for the further profit of Ul'dah. Win the carnival and make the owner a bunch of money and you get the medicine; lose, and they go raid the place for ceruleum and wipe out the tribe. It's a deeply offensive storyline that turns past and ongoing horrors that indigenous peoples - especially those of North America and Mesoamerica - have faced and are still facing into some trivial goal for a questline for a joke job that's solved through the white savior trope.

Then, of course, there's how the Mamoolj'aa are generally treated. Like the other ARR tribes and anyone the game doesn't consider civilized, their dialogue is written in broken speech patterns to reflect "lower intelligence." They're one of the only ARR tribes (next to the Qiqirn, who only got that somewhat through the SHB Qitari quests) that haven't gotten any kind of humanizing that the others have seen over the years (and even then, that's only been recently). Throughout ARR-HVW storylines, they're portrayed as extremely aggressive, are often throwaway mercs for hire around La Noscea, and they have them use this "cultural dance" of theirs that's described as extremely suggestive and is frequently used to sexually harass the white women of Eorzea. They're also seen in the Wanderer's Palace (Hard) as "aggressive barbarian" types who enslaved the Tonberries, which were originally the Spoken of Nym (so y'know, predominantly white society that became malformed and gangrenous tonberries). And your job as the Warrior of Light is, naturally, to exterminate them. There's other stuff like the naming of abilities they use (frequent use of barbarian/barbaric, which in it of itself is problematic), the totems and standards that you're actively encouraged to destroy, the shaman stuff + the fact that again: they're the only ARR tribe that never got the same kind of humanizing lens that tribes like the Sylphs got early on, or like the Amalj'aa got only recently.

Dawntrail looks to be as if it might be that humanizing effort that began in Stormblood and was most prominent in 5.X (ARR-SHB tribe side quests don't count as it's side content, not MSQ), but of course there comes the problem: beyond them never treating the Mamoolj'aa with any respect in the content we already have, they've already framed 7.0 as you meddling in the rite of succession for this new area. An area that is ruled by a two-headed Mamoolj'aa that we have to help overthrow (which is not new, as a two-headed Mamoolj'aa was already shown in The Wanderer's Palace (Hard) - but that one was portrayed as brutish, unintelligent, and played into inbred stuff as...the final boss of the dungeon who gets a special end dungeon cutscene to showcase the Tonberries brutalizing his corpse). And again, this plot thread isn't new! We already helped Hien do that to the Steppe back in Stormblood! This is yet another instance of the game treating imperialism and colonization as a fun thing for you to get in on, especially since they're using the setting and the getting to the setting as a summer vacation.

The fact that they are framing Dawntrail as summer vacation-like is insidious. You are a party of fantasy Europeans sailing to fantasy Mesoamerica/South America to meddle in their governing process.

And let's quickly go over that: the fact Tural is the "New World" as you search for "a city of gold."

These names are rooted heavily in European colonization. The idea that Europe is the "civilized Old World" and that the Americas were the "uncivilized, waiting-to-be-conquered New World" is what drove the colonization of the region, especially in Mesoamerica and South America. The term "New World" is inseparable from white supremacist narratives about the colonizers that engaged with the peoples of the Americas. It's bad enough that XIV introduced Tural as "the New World" to begin with and populated it with a fantasy race that's characterized by violence, a lack of intelligence, and sexual harassment + a gross caricature of North American plains nations, but they have now made it into the destination for the Scions' "summer vacation adventure"? So that you can go do an imperialism there, too? They even framed it as some tropical paradise as if that's not an extension of how colonization of these regions is perpetuated today through the tourism industry.

The other term - city of gold - was a myth that was used as the excuse to ransack Mesoamerica and South America. You've definitely seen it, as that was the entire plot of Road to El Dorado. It was under this pretense that Spanish colonizers decimated indigenous populations in the search of glory and gold. The search for the "city of gold" in the "New World" was a mass genocide - enabled through widespread massacre, and a vicious plague that wiped out 80% of just the population in Mexico alone.

In Mexico, the pestilence reached the Aztec capital, Tenochtitlan, before its fall in 1521. Pathogens also reached Peru, inciting a civil war among the Incas. Both of these situations were extremely favorable for Spain. The plague—cocoliztli—was the most devastating post-conquest epidemic in large parts of Mexico, wiping out somewhere around 80 percent of the native population.

(from "How Aztecs Reacted to Colonial Epidemics" by Richard Herzog on JSTOR)

This is not a subject to touch upon lightly in any respect. And for XIV to use it for their "fun adventure in a foreign land" is deeply inappropriate and frankly disgusting. But is anyone surprised? This is the same company that ignored the demands of the Saami council to remove the offensive Far Northern attire from the store.

What I'm disappointed the most about, however, is the number of fans chomping at the bit with angles about a tropical tourist destination, taking the summer vacation angle the devs are actively encouraging, and even stuff with pirates (do not get me started on how white pirates contributed to colonization of the Americas). As a friend put it very aptly: how do you see "new world," "city of gold," and a fleet of European ships sailing towards fantasy Mesoamerica and not get skeeved out at the prospect? This isn't something you should be excited about because they're having us role play imperialism Yet Again. But this time, it's all to the tune of "tropical summer vacation in a foreign land". And y'all are excited to join in?

I don't want the expansion to turn out this way. We barely have any information on this, I understand. But what I've laid out here is what the game has already done with regards to Tural's pre-7.0 depictions and what they've shown they want to continue perpetuating. If Dawntrail turns out to be somewhat decent (and it better be better handled than Thavnair and feature fewer white people populating the countries that are inspired by black and brown cultures), then fine. But as it stands, Square has not given us any reason to trust them in how they've handled their indigenous stories leading up to 7.0. This entire concept is rife with the potential to be extremely offensive and extremely racist, and the main takeaway most fans seem to have from this isn't that this is a gross depiction of indigenous cultures, but instead a fun summer vacation with the Scions?

Really?

[raventhekittycat]

I know it's Ryousuke but I genuinely thought it was a woman there for a hot second

[cahootings]

Just having a little moment of gratitude for my body and how strong and resilient it is and trying to hold on to that

[howthesleeplesswander]

another random starter for @jackdup bc Rhysie demanded a silly, fluffy thread to let him love on his sweetheart 🥺💖

“...and then, if you can believe it—y-you know what she says to me?” Rhys’s slurred voice echoed in the vastness of his office. What had started as an evening chat with Timothy had led to more drinks than he could handle with any amount of grace, hence the tirade that was still going strong after ten minutes. He gestured wildly as he paced in front of the plush armchair where Tim had settled. 

“She looks me right in the eyes and says, ‘With all due respect’—and like, okay, listen Brenda, I-I wasn’t born yesterday, first of all, we alllll know what that saying actually means, so ya’ know? I don’t really care what stupidness you follow it with; that’s already a biiiig strike towards me not caring! A-anyway—then she says, ‘With all due respect’—” and this time Rhys mimicked a higher pitched, haughty tone reminiscent of the software developer from the morning's infuriating meeting, “—‘You must have the coding skills of a brain-dead bandit if you don’t understand how big this project is. How have you even made it this far in life with such a tiny, smooth brain?'” He was definitely paraphrasing now, but he’d blame the booze for that. 

Rhys threw his arms wide, and his eyes rolled so hard that he almost tipped backwards. “I was a Hyperion programmer for years! You think I don’t know how much work it takes to implement something like that? I mean, I dealt with plenty of programming overhauls for the Loader Bots, and you know how many more of those there are than janitorial bots in HQ?"

Here he paused briefly, squinting into middle-distance as if actually attempting to count in his head. "I-I mean…I dunno exactly, I have spreadsheets n' shit for that, but like—it’s gotta be millions, at least! A butt-load, is what I’m saying! One one-thousandth of that is hardly a big ask, but nooo, Brenda was all like—”

But before he could continue his barely-coherent rant, the world lurched around him when he spun on his heel. Rhys tripped over himself and stumbled directly into Timmy’s chair—and while he miraculously caught himself before hitting the floor, he still fell halfway on top of Timothy in a flurry of flailing limbs. By the time his head stopped spinning enough to process which way was up again, he was awkwardly perched semi-on Timmy’s knee and semi-on the armrest. One hand clung to the back of the chair like a lifeline.

“Haaa—whoo, wow, alright, Iiii am…way too drunk right now.” And he was supposed to be the big, cool, head-honcho-of-Atlas. Rhys laughed at himself, free-spirited and floaty. “Whyyy did you let me get so drunk?? I have an earnings call at ass-o’-clock in the morning, you’re the woooorst.” And yet he buried his face in the crook of Timmy's neck and nuzzled him affectionately, so how effective was his whining, really?

[awesamforehead]

Good morning, 150 followers yippee ^-^

[gregmarriage]

i have GOT to stop cursing myself for my mental health not being good, or for having literal human emotions, (as if i didn’t suffer a manic episode literally two months ago and i’m still recovering and healing from it)

[sorikaied]

the past week has been the most ariel-centric i’ve ever been. from seeing the new little mermaid film twice last weekend and now enjoying my first day at fan expo cosplaying as ariel. the best part of today was the lovely jodi benson herself! when i say i almost cried after leaving is an understatement.

truly living my best life

[todayisafridaynight]

your wrist was hurting sorry man I know how drawing and presumably college work does that get well soon ❤️‍🩹

LMAO NAW ITS FINE for one thing my hurt wrist is my non-writing/drawing hand so i can still draw/write/use utensils, drawing's just a lot slower without my hotkeys so i figure this is a sign i should take a proper break and rest up. plus i hurt my wrist rollerskating so dont worry i didnt sprain anything from drawing too much

[goblin-enjoyer]

Ok concept for a homestuck challengey thing.

you know those "googling [INSERT CHARACTER INTERNET IS HORNY ABOUT] until I find r34/porn" videos? ( I know bad opening here, hear me out. ) And have yall ever seen that one dougdoug video of him trying to find something on wikipedia only using the random page feature and links inside the page itself? What if there was a thing of a similar nature where you go onto a random youtube video and try and see how long it takes to find a homestuck profile picture? Perhaps allow for video hopping to try and find one if there are either: not a lot of comments or too many comments to check or even if that video just doesn't seem to have any homestuck pfps in its comment section. Thank you shark tank investors for your time, I am now going to check my little poll i have currently going on. it seems like jade and jake are neck and neck, but kanaya is catching up! dave and karkat are pretty even ( that tracks ) and aradia and jane were just passed for last by sollux! though i doubt he will make a comeback as its like almost i want to say 120 votes in? and he only got one vote last poll so i don't expect him to stay slightly ahead of the other 5 percenters for long. tavros still has a mid ( AS IN MEDIUM AS IN MEDIUM, I DO NOT THINK TAVROS IS MID ) amount of votes that's been consistent all poll, not too much, not too little. man i missed the fun of a good poll, i should do this a wee bit more often.

[astrxealis]

i am so used to my pinned post i kinda don't want to change the format but i want to

[scarletenvy]

Hey it's me the pearlet thingy anon, yes she did mention buying the red bob wig "and I went with pearl" (that's her exact words). You should probably watch mistress isabelle brooks vlog with violet as her guest she kinda give comments there about her s7 sisters, I find it funny because it seems like violet still remember everything that happened that season like when kandy ho try to come for pearl 😭😭😭

thank you for the recommendation !! i admit i’ve been very lousy with following anything drag (race) related the past couple years but i do miss s7 so much so i’ll definitely check that one out !!

[pseudowho]

Bedlocked

On a University city trip, someone's got to share a hotel room with Nanami Kento, the class's misunderstood loner...and it's going to be you.

Warnings: College AU! Nanami Kento x Reader, double loss of virginity, "just one bed", heavy make-out, PIV creampie, dry humping, fingering, handjob, both reader and Nanami aged 19

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Nanami Kento wore the awkward bearing of a young man who was surprised by the man he was growing to be. Being uniquely in possession of those excellent traits which were overlooked by girls, but adored by women, he had outgrown himself, from personality to hair, and was unsure how to wear it. Not yet having grown the confidence to lean into his character, and own it, he had been written off by the girls in your class as sullen, boring, miserable-- a downer.

All the girls, that is, except for you. And this was how you found yourself to be sharing a hotel room with Kento, on your thesis research trip to Kyoto.

"--made a mistake with the bookings, we're several rooms short--"

'--well we can share a bed, that's fine, but I'm not sharing with him--"

"--I dunno...I don't think he'd try anything, I just...want to have fun, that's all, and he's a bit..."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the other young women spoke amongst themselves. Kento had not arrived, and yet, was the talk of the group. As the only young man in the class, he had maintained a respectful, professional distance from the young women in it. It had earned him what you thought was a rather undeserved reputation.

Where the others saw uptight, you saw diligence. Where they saw boring, you saw reserved. Where others saw sarcastic, you saw hilarious. Where they saw grumpy, you saw rage against the machine.

In truth, you had long-since harboured an obsession with Kento. His hushed intensity was magnetic, and carried a mass you longed to draw you in. While others saw you as opposites, you saw yourself and Kento as each others' perfect foil. Matching puzzle pieces. Each others' missing ingredient.

And, god, you ached for him, alone at night with your hand drifting downwards. And you would not let him be treated like a leper.

"For goodness' sake, I'll share with Kento." You piped up, seeing the other girls all look round at you. Their eyes drifted, widening in surprise at something behind you, and you did not hear the hotel lobby door swing open and closed outside of your view. "In fact, I'd be delighted to share with him. I'm sure he'll be just as funny and respectful as he always is."

"You think I'm funny."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the question framed as a statement, and spun round to face Kento...but not as you knew him. You stuttered.

"Oh, wow, Kento...your hair..."

Gone was the sloppy, loping fringe. Instead, Kento's honey-blond hair was neatly parted, undercut, framing his face. All of a sudden, he was so...handsome. Kento glowered down at you, impassive and unreadable. He gave one baleful hum at your assessment of him.

"I assume something happened with the room bookings, then. For you to wind up stuck with me." Before you could answer, Kento pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning back to the doorway with one enormous hand grasping his suitcase handle. "You shouldn't have to make a decision to your detriment. It's not your fault. I'll find somewhere else to sta--"

Kento was interrupted, by your hand clasping over his on his suitcase handle. A grunt of surprise left his lips, at the feel of your dainty hand on his. He looked down at them, his expression always somewhere between anger and irritation. You knew better.

"Stay with me. We...get along well. We always have." Kento scowled, his eyes flickering behind you to the other girls, who, while surprised by how a simple haircut could alter Kento so, were sticking to their guns.

"I don't need your pity." Kento sniped, his voice low and earthy, "I'm perfectly happy to le--"

"And I'm perfectly happy to share. Stop being so headstrong and listen to me."

Kento bristled, looking torn between argument and agreement. As the others collected their keys, filing off to their respective rooms, you awaited his decision. With a huff, Kento fetched your room key, and headed off down the corridor. You fizzed with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him, but suppressed it, following him with an air of assumed solemnity.

The airs and graces were soon dropped, when the door to your room swung shut behind you and Kento, and you found it to have--

"...just one bed. Shit." Kento's face twisted in discomfort, his Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he swallowed. His eyes trailed down to you, and caught your blush as if it were contagious. He turned to grasp the door handle again, stuttering, so unlike himself.

"Couldn't possibly-- absolutely not appropriate-- my mistake entirely-- find somewhere else--"

"Will you? Find somewhere else, I mean?" Kento faltered, his grip on the door handle loosening. He looked at you with something akin to dread. "On cherry blossom week? In historic Kyoto?" By the time you were finished talking, Kento had deflated like a sad balloon animal.

Night had long since fallen. You heard the laughter, baths and showers running, from the girls in the adjacent rooms. Your confidence was a total mask, as you opened your suitcase, rummaging inside for pyjamas. Your heart pounded in your chest, made all the worse by Kento's silent, tortured appraisal of you. You realised, with a jolt, that you had brought nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear to wear to bed.

Beneath his eyes, you were transparent. He felt the tension roll off you in waves. Kento cleared his throat, his ears red, a youthful flush across his nose.

"I'll-- I'll go shower." He offered, considering trying to drown himself. He heard you hum, speaking absentmindedly.

"Go on. Smelly boy." You had barely registered what you said, hearing something like a laugh from Kento as he swung the bathroom door closed behind him. You threw yourself face down on the bed, muffling your cries of anguish into a pillow. Kento leaned against the shower wall as water tumbled down his back, trying not to think with his cock, and failing miserably, cursing his body for its feral stupidity.

You remained face down on the bed. Trying to think unsexy thoughts was murder. You had always wondered how Kento looked, long and tight beneath old band t-shirts. You'd had the briefest glimpse of his abs and happy trail once, when he reached above you to switch the projector on in class. How you had restrained yourself from leaning in and licking the soft skin of his navel was beyond you. The thought of the noise he would have made, alone, had kept you going for weeks. The way you caught him looking at you in class the next day, took you the rest of the way.

"Shower's free." You sat bolt upright, your brain short-circuiting to see Kento stood at the bathroom door in nothing but pyjama trousers, steam billowing out across broad shoulders and swept back hair. You forced your mask back into place.

"Thought you'd died in there." You offered, not as casual as you sounded. You fumbled your shower bag and pyjamas out of your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. You and Kento danced awkwardly, trying to skirt round each other. With a grunt of irritation, Kento grasped your upper arms, moving you effortlessly around him into the bathroom. His touch was scalding. You wouldn't possibly make it through the weekend.

By the time you headed out of the shower, tugging at your t-shirt to make it cover more of your thighs, you blushed to your toes to see Kento sat up in bed, bare chested and reading. He read the same sentence over, and over, and over, trying with broken determination not to track his eyes up your legs, and imagine how you tasted between them. Feeling you hurriedly slip into bed beside him made his cock jump, and he reached out with a fumbling hand, switching off the light without warning.

Only the faint bathroom light illuminated the room. You both lay, backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed. The silence grew oppressively heavy. You felt lightheaded, barely breathing, hyperaware of every noise and movement your bodies made. You were paralysed by thoughts of his honey-rich voice, his lightly freckled shoulders itching to be touched, how it would feel to be trapped beneath him while he fell apart above you.

"I'm sorry." You blinked, hearing Kento's apologetic rumble.

"...what are you sorry for?"

"This...this situation. I know I'm no fun to be around. And I've made my peace with that. But you--"

"You are fun. Very fun. I'm...not going to punish you for being an introvert."

Kento was quiet on his side of the bed, but no more relaxed. You had gathered the guts to reach one hand across the sheets to him, before he threw the covers aside, and moved to sit up.

"You need your own space. I'll sleep on the sofa." The 'sofa' sat at the end of the bed, barely more than a loveseat, and you snatched a hand out, grabbing Kento round the bicep. You almost shivered at the hard cords of muscle there, thicker than your hand by far, barely grasping on as Kento tensed.

"No. You're taller than me. I'll sleep on the sofa--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me--"

"--I'm not a gentleman, it's just basic manners--"

"--listen, I feel fine, just come and share--"

"--offer some mad girl a bed and suddenly you're a gentleman--"

"Kento, please just come to bed with me."

Kento's brain stuttered, now. He rolled to face you, his whole body on fire, trying to sound calm. He was an open book, to you. You felt every nerve ending of your skin put to the flame.

"...come to bed...with you?" You moved to roll away and cover your face with your hands, indescribably mortified. Kento couldn't allow it-- not when he'd daydreamed about this for so long. He grasped your hands, rolling you back over to face him. He looked awkward, not used to his own strength, as you flipped back over with a squeak, and a weak apology from Kento. You had never noticed the beautiful whiskey depths of his eyes, before.

You were lost for words. The tables had turned so suddenly, you had no idea on which side you sat. Kento scoffed, a faint blush on his high cheekbones, scowling into a corner of the room. The silence thickened again. Kento huffed a laugh.

"Go to sleep. I'll...I'll just play some games for a while." He did not want to. He wanted to flip you over again, to hear that squeak again, wondering if you'd squeak or moan when he pressed his weeping length into your--

"Oh...what games did you bring?" Your eyes lit up, sparkling, sitting up in bed with a bounce. Kento melted. He wanted to put you in his pocket. He could manage the urges, but the affection overwhelmed him and he stuttered, fumbling for words.

"Because..." Kento waited on bated breath, your lips plush and parted, crawling just-so towards him on the bed, seeing how your breasts shifted between your arms beneath that fucking t-shirt and maybe she would want this too fuck we wouldn't come out all weekend once we've tasted each other fuck if she were my girlfriend she'd be my whole world wouldn't ask for anything else ever again--

"...because I'm desperate for a Gengar actually but I haven't got anyone to trade my Haunter with and--"

"Oh. I need a Golem."

"Oh."

"Nice."

You both rummaged in your bags, grabbing your GameBoys, and you swore, trying to find the cable to connect them. Kento raised his eyebrows, scooting himself back beside you in bed, and crossing his long legs.

"Really? You brought one? Who did you think was gonna trade with you, one of them out there--"

"I'll be honest, I was relying on you, Kento, like I always do." Kento's ears reddened. He moved to sweep back the fringe he no longer had. Instead, his long fingers swept back through his neat parting, mussing commas of blond over his forehead, in a way that made you want to do the same until his hair was a mess and he was groaning.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, comparing Pokémon teams. Kento favoured Steel and Fighting types in a balanced, well-prepared team with no weak links. You favoured Ghost types and anything cute, in a weird mismatched set-up that surprised your enemies. With your short cable connecting your GameBoys, you sat thigh to thigh. You hadn't noticed your toes scrunching against Kento's, foot, stroking your skin against his. You felt him shiver and tense.

"What-- what are you doing?" Kento asked, his voice catching in his throat. His chest felt tight. His whole being zeroed in on where your skin stroked his. You caught yourself, and curled your toes away, to Kento's disappointment. "It-- it's okay...you don't have to stop." Your games were ignored now, defunct in distracted hands.

You swallowed, the air thick with tension around you. He was so close, you could smell the residue of his cologne, and the natural masculine smell of him, earthy beneath freshly washed skin. The side of your breast, bare beneath your t-shirt, rested against his bicep. You felt his bicep clench, grazing your nipple. He felt the pebbled snag of your nipple against his arm. He knew he'd combust if he didn't feel your skin on his soon; knew his fragile resolve was breaking.

Your foot cautiously stretched back down, the sensitive skin of your toes stroking against the top of Kento's foot. You felt him shiver again, putting his GameBoy down with a grunt, his eyebrows drawn together with am arm over his eyes.

"Do you...like it when I touch you?"

Kento grumbled under his breath, his mouth twisted in faint derision. "Don't be cruel." You blushed, reaching out for his hand. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing the back of your hand to his twitching thigh, and trailing featherlight fingertips over your palm and inner wrist, an erogenous zone you never knew you had until he elicited a shudder from you.

"See." Kento whispered, lightly stroking the spot on your inner arm that connected curiously to your clit and nipples, a fine gold thread of liquid arousal. "You like it, too. So if you don't mean anything by this, just stop. Don't...don't play games with me." He took his fingers away, and you almost whimpered, chasing his touch, begging.

"No, Kento, wait-- please...don't stop."

Kento short-circuited. He had never been so close to the fabled pleasure of anothers' body. Pornography had little impact for one without the flesh-memory of erotic touch. Kento's cock was thick, now, throbbing. You dropped your head to his shoulder, sighing with bliss as his trembling fingers resumed their butterfly kisses to your wrist. The growing tent in his pyjamas, and the way he spread his thighs aside to accommodate his erection, made your mouth water.

Kento shifted, his body moving on instinct, until he was tentatively leaning over you. He wanted to watch your face as he stroked your wrist, examining its fine little tendons and veins, and examining how you arched, your mouth parted, your t-shirt rucking up until he could see the warm squidge of your belly above your underwear. His voice was husky, thoughtful.

"You'd...you'd stop me, right? If you didn't want this?"

"Yeah, I...yeah. But I-- I don't want you to. I want m--"

Kenti bowed his head to drink the unfinished words off your lips, knowing you wanted more just as much as he did. He grunted against the taste of you, his lips shuddering and uncertain, only hoping his sincerity came through. Kissing him back hard, your lips and tongues clashed, both instinctual, hungry, tasting. You and Kento spurred each other on, your mutual desperation rising exponentially with each nip of the lips, each tongue thrust into each others' mouth, each moan snatched and devoured between kisses.

Your hands sunk into each others' hair, ruffling, teasing, pulling, and you whimpered into Kento's mouth at the massage of his fingertips over your scalp. You were drunk. You had to be drunk, so high off the spontaneity of a moment you thought would be planned to a T.

Kento's mouth wandered, pressing and sucking sharp little lovebites into you on his way down your neck. You had ended up tangled around him, beneath him, the tip of his cock almost escaping beneath his waistband. Riding on buckish young urgency, Kento's broad hand had risen to grope your breast, possessive, trembling against the urge to squeeze you too hard. When you whimpered, arching into his touch, his mind flew back to him, shocked and ashamed by his stunning lack of self-control.

"Sorry," Kento gasped, his mouth and hand flying off you as if burnt, "fuck, sorry, 'msosorry--"

He broke off at the sight of you. Strewn, your hair scrunched against the pillow, with love-swollen lips and roses blooming on your neck, you were serene; for him. Thrown like petals onto the sheets, all for him and his mouth and his hands. Kento felt the fog descend again, dampening his judgement, for the instinctual urge to fuck.

"Have you...have you ever..." You felt Kento's meaning. His voice was rough, deep as the valley, and hewn with stone. You shook your head, still supple and dopey from his attentions. Kento's held breath released in one husky groan. He swallowed, shaking his head down at you.

"No, I...me neither. Always wondered, always--" Always what? Always daydreamed about it almost constantly? Always chastised himself for being such a fucking animal? But, the look in your eyes as you drank him in. Kento and you met on that clouded bridge, in the middle. Your pussy ached with promise.

Kento's hand came to settle slowly on your breast again, delighted by the way you pressed into him. His fingers grazed down over your nipple, reaching the hem of your shirt, brushing upwards.

"I can...can I? Please?"

"Please. Please, yes please, god."

"Fuck...I can't...cant believe it-- finally--" Kento didn't seem to realise he was moaning his inner thoughts aloud, rucking your t-shirt up like unwrapping a gift. As your breast freed, Kento shuddered again, slanted brown eyes scrutinising your body with analytical intent, committing you to memory.

His hand ghosted over your tummy, tracing dimples and stretch marks on the way, before curling around your breast, giving the gentlest of squeezes. The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a cough and a moan. Still possessed by a haze of need, his mouth dipped down, tongue flicking out over your nipple, before capturing it with his mouth as you arched again, keening. He pressed into your arch, one arm planted above your head, the opposite hand rolling your other breast between keen fingers.

He couldn't help but rock the straining underside of his cock against your barely-covered pussy. The material between you was so thin, you could feel the whole length of him, and the tapering shape of his bulbous tip as it snagged against your clit. Kento knew he'd cum like this, if he wasn't careful, and shivered at the idea of spilling his seed all over your belly. He brushed away his hurrying peak, so determined was he that you'd cum before him.

"--keep--keep doing that...Kentoooo--oooh, feels so good--"

A rush of competitive pride burned through him. He couldn't help but murmur against your spit-slick nipple, nuzzling it with his nose.

"Keep telling me...what feels good. Make sure I'm not selfish, 'cos I--I'll just take if you don't--"

Suddenly hyperaware of your own body and how you must look, dopey and blissful as you chased pleasure by rutting his length between your legs, you stopped, and Kento huffed.

"I can hear you--thinking you look stupid-- and you don't--" He scowled down at you, his voice hoarse and strained between heavy grunts of ecstasy. "Will you cum? Like...like that?" Kento nodded down towards where you had been rolling your pussy against him. You tried to pull an arm over your eyes, blushing, extraordinarily embarrassed. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing them over your head.

"Hey-- hey-- listen, I'll...I'll let you see me cum...if you let me see you. Please." You swallowed, mouth watering at the thought of watching Kento break, such sincere fascination trickling down your spine.

"...okay." You answered, uncharacteristically meek. Kento huffed another laugh.

"Good girl." You blushed from hairline to toes, involuntarily bucking up against Kento with his words. He began to rut against you again, the friction good but not quite right, not as good as it could be. You threw caution to the wind.

"Hang-- hang on, I'll just..." You reached a hand down beneath your panties, parting your labia just enough for Kento's heavy length to snag harder against your clit.

Kento's eyes zeroed in on the creamy white discharge on your fingers as you pulled your hand out, and when he continued his motions, you fell supple and needy beneath him again, groaning with the pleasure of his bulbous tip and the ridge beneath it, catching your clit. Pleasure bloomed through you, so much closer to orgasm than you had thought.

"--don't stop--" You begged, arching up towards Kento until he fucked down harder with a broken growl, his own need to cum eclipsed by your pleasure. Drawing one nipple deeper into his mouth, and lubricating the other with his spit to roll it fluidly between his fingers, Kento learned fast, playing you like an instrument until your mouth gaped in a silent cry, your first orgasm received from another, roaring through you in waves.

Kento kept humping against you, not recognising that you had reached your peak. He faltered, hips stuttering and panting as you groaned, squirming and writhing, groping at him with desperate, fucked-out hands. Kento was obsessed, a spurt of pre-cum adding to the slick he'd already made between your legs. Utterly besotted, his slim eyes wide with blown pupils, he shakily raised one hand to stroke your hair, kissing your forehead through the bliss, shushing you with whispered praise.

"--so cute...look so pretty...thank you-- thank you--"

As you came down from your high, you heard him thanking you, and laughed, trying to cover your face as he batted your hands away, playful and smirking. Biting your lip, emboldened by post-nut confidence, you slid your hand down to grip Kento's clothed, pulsing cock. He stilled above you with a grunt, looking so angry again as that feral, desperate haze descended. You begged him, hushed and soft.

"Can I...feel it?" Kento's thoughts burst with single-minded relief. He nodded, breath catching in his chest, allowing you to roll him over onto the bed until you were lying on your side beside him. You stroked his clothed length, fascinated, watching every reaction with cruel innocence.

Unsure how to handle him, you faltered as your hand began to slip inside his pyjamas. Kento had one arm slung over his face, still scowling, wanting desperately to watch you play with his cock, but too self-conscious.

"Here, I'll--" Kento reached down, shucking his pyjamas down until his cock released. Kento seemed embarrassed by his size, distinctly bigger than average, and thick, his pink tip peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Mistaking the cause of your silence for disgust, Kento grimaced behind his forearm, apologising.

"--shit, 'msorry, I know I-I'm--"

"...wow." Your breathless little gasp, followed by your hand immediately circling round Kento's cock, sent his mind blank again, watching you with dumb adoration as you examined the weight of his cock in your hand. Your hand gripped him, stroking from ball to tip with an inexperienced squeeze that had Kento grunting, gasping and bucking beneath you. It didn't matter that you had clearly never handled an erection in your life; for Kento, who had never been stroked by a woman looking at his cock and face with hungry, adoring eyes, he was being rushed towards a toe-curling orgasm.

"--st--sta--stopstopstop, m'gonna cu--m'gonna cum--'m gonna--"

Your hand stopped immediately, and Kento snarled, before gasping, momentarily shocked by his visceral reaction to being teased just to the edge of completion. Your pupils dilated, obscenely aroused by the strange danger of a furiously needy man about to cum in your hand. You were lost in the tease, lowering your head and maintaining eye contact as you threatened your lips just over the tip of Kento's cock.

"...stop?"

Kento was glazed, eyebrows tilted, looking uncharacteristically concerned, darting between your mouth, and your eyes, and back again. His nose flared with hot little pants. A barely perceptible shake of the head. You smiled, laying the flat of your tongue against the tip of Kento's cock, and licking over the bulbous head with an incoordinate pump of his length.

Kento's moan rumbled from his chest outwards, muffled as he bit into his own arm, his mind blown by the wet little sucks of his cockhead that he'd imagined only in his wettest dreams. He hurtled with breakneck speed towards his peak, finishing with frantic bucks and begs.

"--oh my--fucking g-god--huuugh fuckfuckfuck sorry m'sorry--shit--"

Kento came with an uncontrollable roar of pleasure, both arms gripping the pillow beneath his head, biceps straining, balls clenching. You pulled free of his cock with a wet pop and a little cry of surprise, when the first spurt of cum salted your tongue.

You continued to stroke him, obsessed with the jerk of him in your hand, the way he groaned, low and long, with each stripe of thick, white seed up his belly. It was only after the twitches had ceased, his cock sluggish against his belly, that Kento began to gasp like a fish out of water and gripped his hand around yours.

"--sto--sta--stop...fuck...so...sogood sosogood..."

The words left your mouth before you even thought to stop them, a years old masturbatory kink suddenly within reach. "Can you cum like that inside me?"

Kento stared at you in mute shock, his neat new haircut mussed beyond repair. His post-cum brain struggled to process your request. You frantically babbled to reassure him.

"--I--I mean no condom--and hear me out hear me out-- I've got good protection-- and and I've never and you've never so we won't catch anything--"

Kento was above you, flipping you onto your back and suckling at your neck again within seconds. You heard his oddly grown-man chastisement into your neck, while his body moved in the total opposite direction.

"So fucking irresponsible-- just just "oooooh cum inside me Kento" just like that, fuck-- do you think I'm--I'm fucking stupid? Sh...shit...fucking yes please I can't believe I'm doing this--"

Kento's cock had barely softened, graced by the barely-there refractory period of youth. He was thick, heavy, and dragging down your belly. You were just as frantic as him, kicking off your underwear and watching Kento hyperfocus again; this time, on your bare sex, right before his eyes.

He knelt back, gripping himself in his fist as if holding himself back. Feeling his sharp eyes penetrate you, you moved to close your legs. Kento looked at you as if you were mad, batting your thighs aside with his knees as you covered your face, mortified.

"Beautiful." He berated, rubbing his fingers through the cum spattered on his belly, and sinking them down to glide cautiously between your labia. You gasped, squirming, and Kento watched his fingers coat with your slick with a gulp, feeling a fresh burst of blood engorge his cock until he ached.

He leaned to his bag, rummaging and cursing, before coming back up with a bottle of lube. You shot Kento a look and he shot you a look in return, berating you again with a voice stricter than fitting for his age; "I was expecting a room of my own."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

"Very well actually-- stop laughing or I'll--"

"...you'll what? Make me?" You asked, coy. Kento let out a strangled little groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose as you laughed.

"...don't even...dont even know what you're asking...idiot--" Kento huffed as you drew a crooked smile out of him, your joyful muffled giggles a natural balm to his baseline rage. You stilled again, breathless as you watched him stroke his pulsing cock, your throat dry with voyeuristic anticipation. Kento panted, beyond embarrassment and hanging on by a thread.

Kento stroked some lube between your puffy folds, eyes heavy as you squirmed, prodding one finger softly at your entrance. You stilled beneath him, holding your breath. Kento tangled your fingers in his.

"Breathe." He hummed, and as you released a shaking breath, Kento began to ease one slick finger inside you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes closed beneath raising eyebrows, as Kento slid his long finger into you all the way to his knuckle. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he felt lightheaded.

"...you...you feel...fuck, incredible, so--so tight..." Kento whispered, his voice low and gravelly, that same primal urge to fuck immediately into you threatening to cloud his brain. By the way you gazed up at him, still and supple, you would probably let him too and he could just push right in and--

"...we'll take it slow," Kento reassured you, tight and tense, "...and I'll stop straight away if...if it hurts."

Your eyelids fluttered to feel Kento's thick tip prod at your entrance, sure he wouldn't fit until he pressed forwards, and you stretched like you'd never stretched before. You bit your lip against the faint sting, nodding urgently and gripping Kento's thighs as he looked at you in concern.

Kento was lost in the moment, his eyes zeroing in on where he gradually sheathed himself inside you. He'd never felt such exquisite pleasure, obsessed by how your plush walls moulded to the shape of him, sucking him in, slick and tight. You squeaked, biting into Kento's shoulder as he bore down on you, his cock almost sunk to the hilt. He stilled as he bottomed out, his fingertips bruising on your hip, trembling with jagged groans.

You felt so strangely placid, full, and wrapping your legs around the small of Kento's back to lock him inside you. The brief sting, the belly-deep ache, left you feeling like you had made a blooming transition from girl to woman in one deep thrust. Kento drank you in, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips and mumbling against them.

"...'m not gonna last long." Kento was possessed, pulling out a little before rutting into you again, delighted by your gasp, determined to break more noises out of you. His usual gentle nature was becoming quickly overrun by a firm, authoritative edge, not knowing yet how this would come to define him as a man.

Kento rocked into you, shallowly at first, before gaining the confidence that he wouldn't break you. By the time he had built a rhythm, pumping into you through sweaty pants, your breaths mingling together, he felt the drag of orgasm approaching him fast. Kento's imagination could never have matched up to the reality of dragging his cock through such nectar.

Any time Kento tried to talk, he broke off into anguished pants and groans into your throat, sinking his teeth there for a moment, seemingly irritated by how sloppy he'd become.

"...j'sso...uhnfuck...wet--best thing I--...huhnnn--"

Hearing you whimper and squeak as he moved within you offered him some condolence for being a speechless mess, at least.

Though you knew you wouldn't cum from this alone, you were lost in the addictive feeling of being full and fucked into by Kento chasing an instinctual high. You couldn't help but let your fingers wander downwards, rubbing your clit beneath them. The thick pressure in your belly made your pleasure three-dimensional, so much better than your fingers alone.

Kento was a quiet lover, saying more through heated glances and lingering touches than he ever could through words. Knowing he was holding back for fear of hurting you, you whispered against his ear, sending ripples down his spine.

"--harder-- pleasepleaseplease--"

"Fffuck okay...this?" Kento sunk into you to the hilt and jabbed, urging himself deeper, earning a guttural groan as his cockhead pressed against your cervix and soft-spot. He nodded into your neck, shuddering deeply. "Th-this...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Your toes curled against the back of his thighs, and you sobbed with the bone-deep adoration of his kisses to your womb. Kento's restraint snapped, tilting your hips as he gripped you, holding nothing else back.

Kento sped up, driving himself inside you with total abandon, his breaths coming out as spitting curses and groans. Finally, he strained above you, his moans breaking and peaking, unable to hold off any longer;

"--gonna...gonna...cum in you for--for-fucking-ever-- nnggh--"

Watching Kento break and spill himself inside you, his cock jerking with long, painfully pleasurable contractions, was the erotic vision you had sought your whole adult life. Hurriedly working your fingers until your own high hit you, had Kento collapsing on top of you to feel your pussy clenching around him, milking him of every little drop of seed.

Kento was silent, his corded back clenching over you. You nuzzled into his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw until he gave you his lips with a groan. Pulling gently out, and replacing his cock with his fingertips so he could feel how his seed dripped from your cunt, had Kento wondering vaguely how he'd ever use a condom now he'd tasted the ripe-peach of you without a barrier.

You nipped Kento's neck, jolting him back to reality. Glossy doe-eyes glimmered up at him in the dark; and you, desperate to feel full again, completely addicted to him as he was to you.

"...again?"

"...give-- give me a minute."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Heard some strange noises coming out of your room last night."

You kept your face innocently neutral at the breakfast table the next morning. You tipped your head to the side, inquisitive, as if you didn't feel multiple thick loads of Kento's seed soaking your underwear.

"Oh?"

"Mhm." A knowing stare from the other girls at the table. Kento sat down, clearing his throat, his plate piled with what should have been an embarrassing number of pastries.

"She's really good. At Pokémon battles." You had a single moment to admire Kento's absolute gall, the other girls looking at him with vague displeasure as he continued.

"Her Gengar's really strong actually. I wasn't ready for it. I thought Machamp would be a good choice, but--"

The other girls had already lost interest, turning their conversations elsewhere. Kento looked up at you from the other end of the table as you mouthed oh my god at him. He was inscrutable, apart from his twinkling eyes.

You were fortunate that none of these girls were at your wedding, years later. But you did occasionally still refer to making love as 'Pokémon battles', if just to hear your impassive, suited, quiet man laugh.

[nbstevonnie]

.