#cause i cant be the only one mildly frustrated at this

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Okay I gotta rant, it's a huge pet peeve tho so I'll put it under the cut so people who don't want to see me complain can ignore

For the love that is holy CAN WE NOT TAG SAGAU FOR SELF AWARE HONKAI STAR RAIL AU????? I KNOW THEYRE MADE BY MIHOYO BUT THEYRE SEPARATE GAMES FFS

Sagau is specifically for Genshin, it's (S)elf (A)ware (G)enshin (A)lternate (U)niverse its the acronym for only Genshin

If you need the fucking acronym or shorted version for HSR IT EXISTS. ITS SAHSRAU

I just have this major pet peeve for those not properly tagging or using popular tags that have nothing to do with their posts. If you're gonna only post about sahsrau THEN DONT TAG SAGAU, AND ITS THE SAME THE OTHER WAY AROUND.

I feel just as frustrated with characters being tagged on posts that don't mention them at all. It pisses me off to no end!!!

Istg if I see the sagau tag on any posts for self aware zenless zone zero au (sazzzau), which doesn't exist yet afaik, I will scream.

JUST DONT USE IRRELEVANT TAGS, I DONT CARE IF THEYRE SIMILAR IF YOURE TALKING STAR RAIL DONT USE GENSHIN SPECIFIC TAGS

[phagodyke]

this is like my fourth or fifth consecutive bad gym session I might as well just kill myself

[teyamloving12]

Innocent virgin reader getting passed around her friend group to 'help' them😫😫

Kiss, kiss 😘

Your Coconut Jelly

Warning: NSFW content (MDNI), foursome, fingering, blowjobs, bukkake, innocence kink, praise kink, manipulation, etc.

Pairing: Neteyam x Reader x Aonung x Lo'ak

Synopsis: Neteyam, Aonung and Loak worked so hard to capture an akula. It was unsuccessful. Now they needed your help to stop this cause of their mistakes.

The Sully's found themselves a home, a place where they belonged other than the forest and a friend. A friend that was oblivious, kind and the word "no" did not exist in her vocabulary. Lo'ak and Neteyam had their rough patches with the firstborn of the Olo'ekytan of the Metkayina clan but over time, scars heal and so did their friendship. Like their father, the Sully brothers rose to the top.

Strong warriors of the sea they became.

They adored the Metkayina way of life, but the forest was their home. They worked hard for what they wanted. They were glad to have a friend that just couldn't say no. Neteyam and Lo'ak along with Aonung, wanted to prove to their fathers that they were strong. So off they went. To the deepest depth of the blue ocean in search of the most dangerous creature that could lurk the deep sea.

They set off. The waters were rough for an early morning. The tide splashed up on their skins almost highlighting the blue pigmentation with the damn yellow lighting of the morning twilight. Eywa was probably angry or it was just a bad day for a hunt. Heavy rain poured from the sky and the further they went from the island, the more anxious they became.

It was time.

The akulas swam around the boys, almost making them dizzy. The movements were so calm, so vengeful, so captivating. The akulas felt threatened in their territory, the "prey" wanted to defend themselves so they finally decided to attack. Neteyam shot the predator with his crossbow but it was determined.

No prey was going to take its victory. Its teeth clamped around his leg, he screamed almost forgetting he was underwater. Neteyam wouldn't allow himself to die here. He gave the beast a fierce kick, and it finally let go. He was not the only one struggling in this battle, his brother and companion were mildly injured from the attacks of the beasts.

They couldn't go back knowing that they failed. How would their father's react? They tried to prove themselves but they were not ready. Lo'ak huffed and puffed as he rode back to the Island, as his brother and his friend remained quiet in shame. The weather was surprisingly better now. The sun was shining brightly almost burning their skin.

"I cant fucking believe we didnt catch the akula!", he yelled as her feet laid up in the hot, golden sand of Awa'atlu. Neteyam sighed and shaked his head in disappointment. " After all that training on top of it!", Aonung threw his hands in the air. The three boys swore Eywa had something out for them. They trained for months thinking they were ready, they set out for sea. Only to fail miserably and now covered with scratches, cuts and bruises all over their bodies.

Aonung couldn't go back to his parents' marui. He knew his mother would have scolded him brutally. Instead his eyes gazed at your marui. "I can't go home like this.", Aonung stated. "Can't we just go to Y/n? Isn't she a healer or something?", Lo'ak asked in frustration knowing his mother and father would tell him he clearly wasn't ready. Lo'ak stormed over to your marui.

"Lo'ak wait! You can't invade her privacy like that!", Neteyam shouted as his stubborn little brother refused to listen. Lo'ak walked through the shell curtain that acted as a door to your home. "There you are!", LO'ak exclaimed. Your head shot up at the voice of your friend. You were excited to see your friends but Lo'ak being injured was another thing.

You rushed towards him in panic. You raised your hand but your fingers could touch his face, he placed his cheek into your hands and closed his eyes in comfort. "What happened to your hunt? you were so excited about it yesterday.", you were about to ask another question until Ao'nung and Neteyam barged in, panting as if they were running for miles. Lo'ak rolled his eyes at the two.

"We need help.", Lo'ak stated with a smirk on his face. "What the fuck is he thinking?", Neteyam whispered to Aonung who just shrugged his shoulders. " You wanna know why we failed, pretty girl?", you shrugged as your doe eyes met with his amber orbs.

" I don't know about them but I have a bit of a problem.", Lo'ak pointed to the erection poking through his loincloth.

"Huh?", you responded. "What do you mean? I don't understand!", you exclaimed. "Lo'ak, are you serious?", Neteyam yelled. "C'mon baby, I'll teach you, kneel down f'me.", he commanded. You dropped to your knees, his boner sprung in your face. You watched as his loincloth fell to his ankles. Your mouth became to drool at the sight before you.

"Tell me what to do Lo, I don't wanna see you hurt like this.", you said with a sad expression on your face. "Lo'ak whatever you plan on doing, you better stop!", Aonung warned him. "What do you mean? I help him to get rid of his problem, right Lo?", you asked. He nodded as you stroked your cheek.

Lo'ak began to rub his throbbing cock in your face. It was so fascinating, it's length and girth were perfect as if his cock was made just for you.

"Wrap your hand around it. And stroke it up and down, ok?", Lo'ak advised. Your fingers traced the shape of his cock with curiosity, it looked almost edible. You pumped his cock in your hand, the precum soaked your palm and spread it over his member like butter on toast. Your lips sucked on his tip, Aonung and Neteyam was shocked

What the hell were you doing?

"Open your mouth for me baby.", he said. Even the way you widened your mouth for him was adorable. He chucked softy. "Y/n, you know my cock is big, open wider, m'kay?", you listened to every command he gave without hesitation.

"She looks good with her lips wrapped around my cock, doesn't she?", Lo'ak asked his shocked friend and brother. A purple hue spread from their cheeks to their pointed ears.

He continued to thrust inside your mouth, gagging noises were slightly heard. "Shh baby, don't cry.", Lo'ak cooed seeing the tears that threatened to fall. "Breathe through your nose.", he said before going a slower but still rough pace. It would be a lie if Neteyam and Aonung said they were not aroused by the sight in front of them.

They clearly had a problem too.

Lo'ak came all over your face. You wrapped some off with your index finger and observing the liquid. It reminds you of coconut jelly, maybe it tasted like coconut jelly.

And in fact, it did. It tasted even better

You looked at Neteyam and Aonung's problem. You tilted your head before crawling towards them and stoped at their crotch. "Let me help you...please?", you begged. How could they say no to you? You pulled off their loincloth and began to lick the tip of Neteyam's throbbing dick.

"Mhmmm", you hear him groan from the friction of your lips around him. You pumped his shaft as you gave Aonung the same treatment. You were moaning around him.

"Louder. Let me hear you, yawne.", Aonung was high from the pleasure he received from your mouth. "You take me so fucking well, yawne. Fuck, can you go deeper?", you would do anything to help them. You forced your head you go deeper.

He felt like he was making tsahyelu. His eyes rolled back, gripping his curls as he cummed inside of your mouth.

You looked at Neteyam who was thrusting his hips into your small hands, trying his better to get off. But it was simple.

Your mouth was better.

Your fangs grazed over the full veins on his dick before taking his whole, Lo'ak climbed behind you, looking at your glistening and soaked cunt. You felt his fingers traced over your folds, making you take Neteyam even deeper into your mouth.

"So tight f'me babygirl.", Lo'ak whispered into your ear. Aonung attacked your neck with violent kisses leaving purple marks on your skin. Lo'ak's fingers kept pumping inside of your cunt. "Cum baby, don't hold back.", he said as you felt Neteyam's sperm flow down your throat. The knot in your stomach burst. Lo'ak smirked as your juices soaked his hand. Neteyam finished on your face. You were coming down for your high.

You didn't mind helping a few friends in need. "Hey Lo'ak, can I get some of your coconut jelly tomorrow?", you asked with a smile on your face as the boys deadpanned at your question.

Even after all that, you were still clueless.

[infoglitch]

Why am I doing this again? Oh right cause I'm one of the few who will die on the that crwby ain't shit-(god if I keep ignoring writing my shitty fanfics people are just gonna assume i'm bitch made)

Oh boy here I go again poking the damn bear with my shit takes-

(also before I begin I want to ensure that my message is given context, I hate crwby as writers not as people, I hope people don't misconstrued that because otherwise that's just gonna be frustrating to deal with)

Pyrrha is a wasted character and a PRIME example that crwby can't write women.

Oh boy pyrrha Nikos where do I begin with this cardboard cut out of a character.

So since a few (and I mean A FEW) people choose to live in denial of the obvious fact that crwby cant write and that to claim they can is possibly the most bullshit statement ever.. its time to take out the belt (bout to go Hellsing abridged in this bitch)

I'm mainly using Pyrrha because she is the most GLARING example of how bad the writing of Rwby can get.

Granted I am notorious for consistently and without calling Pyrrha the worst character ever (about as bad as later volume Blake.. then again just Blake in general- hoo boy I really am gonna piss people off huh?) this is mainly due to the fact.. she's quite literally a peice of cardboard and i actively cheer whenever I rewatch her death... Ok that last bit was an over exaggeration but you get the point.

Now to begin why I actively believe Pyrrha is terrible, we need to talk about.. the noodle knight.. sometimes I despise the fact I like jaune but regardless-

Jaune as a character is fundamentally a side character... Yet he has consistent screen time.. again.. and again.. and again. To the point where you could jokingly say he's the real main character since Crwby just love putting him in as much screen time as possible. (However I more take it as the fact jaune is just a scapegoat for Crwbys incompetence. But that's for when I piss of the rwde aspect of the community, because oh boy.. is there an argument I want to rip to shreds and call blatant bullshit.)

But outside of the screentime he is mildly interesting and has made a few actions that add dimension to the character... But why do I bring up jaune when talking about Pyrrha? It's due to the fact Pyrrha's entire character revolves around jaune.

Pyrrha is rarely shown to interact with the rest of JNPR, it's practically non-existent if jaune is not somewhere.

But some of you might say (and honestly I don't blame you and would agree with you) "Pyrrha is a side character, she doesn't need depth." To which.. yes... But she was a part of team JNPR, her death is treated as if it should have affected everyone. Hell her death caused ruby to awaken her silver eyes. But there's one problem.. technically two

1. Team JNPR (or more accurately JNR) are still active participants in the cast, you'd think them being side characters they would eventually be thrown away.. but they aren't. So that would supposedly mean their important.. which includes Pyrrha but if that's the case then why isnt she given depth, you can't three people of an extra be important enough to be a part of the cast and given development but Also have the other team member not be given some given some kind of development, that doesn't work either don't give development to ALL OF THEM or do the inverse.

2. she isn't shown to interact with team Rwby by herself, she's never given any scenes to show that she is friends with ATLEAST ruby, so her death impacting others that SHOULD be her friends doesn't make sense now because there's no scenes with her interacting with them by herself.

Every scene that is pivotal is in some form or way connected to Jaune, but even though characters like her can be good if written well, she isn't.

Pyrrha is never once given anything that is specifically to show off her, she's always written to focus on jaune. Even her death which was supposed to affect all of team Rwby and Jnr only was shown to affect jaune.

To many it may seem like it's not an issue she only showed up for three volumes before kicking the bucket and dying. So what's the point of talking about her?

Well from me specifically, the problem is the fact Pyrrha is not a rare case of bad writing, not just for characters either, may I remind you all of the white fang subplot. Don't worry I won't go into too much detail I'm writing an entirely different post about how the faunus/white fang subplot got swept under the rug because surprise surprise crwby writers are shitty at writing.

Alright time to get on my soapbox to sound all high and mighty.

to explain it simply. The white fang arc was supposed to be a lesson that is meant to talk about how racism is wrong and the fact that it only hurts innocent people, (both of obviously the oppressed and the innocent people who are unintentionally associated with the oppressor, hatred breeds hatred y'all know the phrase) but instead its not even given anything specific. This is especially a problem considering one of our main characters is supposed to be the protagonist that helps talk about the issue. Instead of anything specific that shows the faunus are oppressed and that humanity still has extremely bigoted and shitty people all we get is.. cardin and that's about it.. and then in volume 5 (or 4 I unfortunately lose track sometimes) it's just wrapped up with.. Adam being taken down and the white fang essentially being forgotten about.. the white fang, you know the organization that is full of faunus who do want equality but are somewhat misguided.. their apparently just disbanded after the piss baby that is "Adam Taurus" just gets defeated.. is it me or doesn't it make more sense to atleast hear mention of some white fang stragglers who still misguidedly fight in the name of equality. Honestly it feels like it got rushed and not properly expanded on.

To put it bluntly I find it just so weird that crwby has been shown to not be able to handle topics that are a little more nuanced and decided to sweep it under the rug, same with writing characters that could be interesting, but instead are just turned into cardboard cut outs. Yet there are people who claim that Rwby is better than any media *cough cough* the Twitter bastards *cough cough* which.. look i love Rwby to death, it's music is fuckin magnificent early volume versions of the characters can be.. minus jaune kinda (man does got a few bumps when it comes to being a fan) but Rwby is.. mediocre. But it's not it's fault, that's just what happens when writers aren't able to properly write a story, characters, a world for the story, literally almost every attempt at adding depth to rwby.

Ok.. I'm fuckin tired I'm expecting a lot of people to disagree (I'm praying the majority aren't just gonna throw insults and nothing else because honestly that just makes anyone look stupid.

Alright time to get off the soap box and return to the cave where I write shitty Rwby fanfics and equally shitty original story.

[asherlockstudy]

i dont think rhett likes link as a person that much. the way link has been joking about how "rhett doesnt have emotions" i think reveals more about the nature of their relationship at this point. link has been pushing a lot while rhett doesnt have much to give other than what he know he "supposed" to give. dont get me wrong i think there is affection of some kind between them and the history isnt something you can just set aside and the promise of a duo is still attractive but... imo one of the reasons why link is adamant at annoying/furstrating rhett is that its one of the only clear show of emotions he can make rhett feel for him at this point. its a little in link's head sure but i do believe rhett is slowly realizing some stuff and i dont think its those "gay" feelings that people like to talk about here. i realize im reading into a lot of things but i cant help but feel this push and pull and all these prying i love you's out of rhetts mouth lately speaks to an insecurity that is a little exagerated on links side but also not entirely unfounded. i think you can still have a certain amounth of love for a person in your hearth -whether the idea of them or the history of them or an affection that lingers etc. but slowly realize you dont like the way that they are/present themselves anymore.-its hard to find interests that you both actually enjoy/share that isnt also your job(lol), intelectually engaging conversations are sparse and inequal and sometimes more frustrating than informing etc. which is a very difficult thing to handle on both sides. doesnt have to mean its an end but its just would be a lot of difficult shifts that should be taken seriously and not for granted in the name of promises. idk. this is a little strech and i normaly i dont like to do this but i cant help but feel that. ''i think im supposed to like this'' https://pbs.twimg.com/media/F8TknG0WYAAUOur?format=jpg&name=medium from rhetts new ep could be about this in parts. maybe

I get what you are saying. It is a thought I used to have occasionally; that Rhett doesn’t seem to love Link as genuinely or that he is getting done with him. Most of the time, something happened that made me feel proven wrong.

The thing about them fighting was also significantly dramatised in the interview - not because it might not have been dramatic at the time it happened but because the interviewers clearly and humorously wanted to play it up. I personally felt uncomfortable with the mildly comedic reenactment of Rhett’s apology. I believe this should have stayed between them or that when it was between them it was definitely serious and so it didn't deserve to be a part of this youtube interview. I mean, you know it’s serious enough when Link is staring and not talking and Rhett is tearing up.

We should always keep in mind all the things that are unsaid because there was a lot unsaid in this case. Link had briefly mentioned this recently, the whole sending an email about needing their friendship to be more of an actual friendship thing. He said at both occasions that there was a warning of “I can’t keep doing this if we are not gonna be actual friends”. The thing is, what was his alternative really? To mess it all up and work solo? As a YouTuber? As an engineer? As a what? This was a huge risk. Link also said he sent this email with Christy’s blessings. Something doesn’t add up. Christy isn’t crazy about Mythical but that would be a huge and tough change if this email caused a breakdown in their friendship. I wonder whether Christy’s self interests were getting in the way of the advice she would be giving in that case. Because a sensible advice would be for Link to be less absolute about it and secure that their business remained undisturbed no matter what happened to their friendship. Unless, idk, things were THAT shitty that Link 'd rather end his whole super successful career. Besides, it is bad when a friend grows emotionally distant, however when this friend is still physically close and you see him all the time and you have based all your income on him, it is unwise and very dramatic to blow it up because you aren’t as attached to the hip friends as in middle school. Welcome to adulthood, I guess. Therefore this doesn’t add up perfectly in my opinion and I would expect Christy to be more like "grow up and do your job without obsessing over Rhett's friendship" than say "You go girl, blow it all up if you are not the best of the besties again", so I once again conclude there was more that made Link felt so invested in the genuineness of Rhett’s feelings, which caused him to feel heartbroken when their friendship was getting more impersonal. The way Link implored for a big talk, for months or even years I recall, for Rhett to open up about his feelings to him is not typical of 40 year old males being friends but, then again, you could argue much of them and their arrangement isn't typical anyway. I could add to my point that in the past years they have been clearer about the frankly quite strange ways they avoided each other outside work but this would lead the answer into paths you are not interested in.

However, Link did not imply Rhett did not have emotions or emotions towards him in specific. He said Rhett does not verbalize or externalize the actually existing feelings. That's what he usually says, though sometimes it seems he is unsure of the nature / genuineness of Rhett's emotions indeed.

Rhett has fought to improve on this aspect throughout the years. It does not always work but there is effort. Sometimes it affects him quite a bit that Link thinks that. It took him some time to realize it but apparently he gave Link a massive tearful apology in which he explained he thought all along that whatever they did was them living this friendship. I don't know if that's 100% sincere but it seems he cared enough to come clean about it, apologize, improve on himself and listen to Link etc So I still think he loves Link a lot. Besides, remember how crazed and needy Rhett was towards Link during quarantine? Also, aside from that interview, Rhett is more often than not the one to whine for not seeing each other many times in a month or Link not inviting him to this or that, or not caring enough for a shared hobby or not being provisional for him as much as Rhett is for Link's sake. Therefore I think we get this idea because Link is so much more open and dramatic about his needs that makes us inequally exposed to their viewpoints and as a result we feel for Link more. But I think Rhett cares about Link a lot. Sure, he is annoyed at him often because Link can cause that to people lol but I think the good emotions and all the past and all he has with him by far overcome some exasperation that might be there. They do have different love languages, too.

As for the song, thanks for the link, I was looking for the lyrics. Had my eyes nearly drop out of my eyesockets in order to read them XD Well, it's certainly an angry song and [MASSIVE EDIT BECAUSE I MISREAD ONE WORD] it’s almost certainly about people criticising them for abandoning the faith and how it still stings.

[belfrygargoyles]

1) the composition, posing, framing, anatomy, stylization, all has to be consistent and done with purpose. it cant be done clumsily, appear as a "regression" in my art style, or have any room for visible error beyond what I can categorize as "permissible". The process of art generally is not a very easy or smooth one, and the less time and paper space "wasted" on adjustments, the less revisions i have to make, the less i have to erase and redraw and put the entire piece on pause at a rudimentary stage lest i waste time on details that will be erased, the better.

2) I can say "i want to draw a character." okay, now what pose? what style? what focus? what composition? what outfit, color palette, tone, etc. too much decision. unless i already know what i want i just... can't. really decide.

3) Idk man I stopped drawing consistently some time during high school and just got out of a 5 year relationship during which i rewired my brain to constantly think about & create for another person to the point that even when i got out, i found that i couldn't even write or come up with ideas for myself because i was stopping every step with what someone else would want instead. the act of writing and drawing and engaging with ocs had for the past 5 years stopped being something to do for fun and instead been made into a primary and foundational means of reciprocal "proof" of interest and investment in the other person and for at least a full year and a half I stopped getting anything back. Part of my brain is still stuck in that tired, burnt out, frustrated resignation. Part of my brain is still trapped in the mindset that i have to focus on and create for someone else specifically, that i have a target audience that i need to regularly and consistently "prove" that i care about by making things not because its what I think about, but because everything i make HAS to be for someone else or else I am being self centered and neglecting my upkeep of the relationship. Part of my brain still just feels so dead, like it's given up entirely, after repeatedly putting 110% into catering wholly and perfectly to someone else with the expectation, promise, and increasingly desperate belief that it would be mutual, that it was mutual and my expectations were too high or my memory too unreliable, only to finally learn that no, i was right, i actually wasn't getting anything back, i was being fed empty promises to "try harder" and "be better for me" for years and put my full faith that change was happening, an effort was being put in, that i'm just too self-centered and want too much attention to myself to notice.

and, if i'll be honest. there were some comments made during that time about my art that have still stuck. really minor comments, well meaning, honestly pretty inoffensive (if not a bit annoying) unwelcome and unasked for critique on wips i was showing progress on, without the context of how it felt with the years of invisible, built up, unidentifiable frustration that made me a hair trigger desperately trying to validate my feelings by finding fault anywhere and everywhere. i dont want to hold onto those comments like this, but something about them is sticking, and i still feel stupidly hyper defensive over my art. they were just small, unintentionally mildly rude comments made without thinking that they could cause offense at all, but who they were coming from, the time they were said, the state i and the relationship was in- they really meant so, so much more, in a way that is kind of emblematic of everything that was wrong with the relationship. and part of me is still holding onto those feelings, i guess- maybe because it was about something that's always been deeply personal in a kind of delicate way for me?

ugh

hurgh i wish i could still just pick up a pen think of a character and draw when the fuck ever- now even if i want to draw, if i dont already have an idea of what exactly i want to draw i just... cant. i dont know if this is a result of focusing too much on quality/the "it has to be perfect or it cant exist at all" mentality, a weird kind of decision paralysis (which it actually is sometimes), or longterm effects of burnout and relying on extrinsic motivators for so long.

actually its probably all of that at the same time now that i wrote that out

[maremote]

i’m extremely interested in your silver-shiv-flint-madi thoughts (or honestly just shiv thoughts or succ bs thoughts i’ll take em) if you were wanting to share. if not then no worries!

you asked and you shall receive. this is coauthored by partner in crime @dykementality

flint in succession is either trying to pull some kind of heist or murder one of the roys, but succession is a comedy so he can’t actually succeed. the most he can do is fatally injure logan in a way that puts him in the hospital; big drama, everyone thinks logan is gonna die; boom, miraculous recovery. 

silver tries to seduce post-divorce shiv either so he can scam her or so he can be a trophy husband (the second one is mildly ooc because it’s too much visibility but it’s fine we’re having fun) but shiv & silver have too much in common so they end up becoming repression besties who also kind of hate each other. it's one of Those friendships, you know. the kind where you're only in each others' lives for an intermission, even if you're very important during that intermission.

the silver and roman dynamic? i would like to see it. kendall would be so obsessed with silver because if you're not very perceptive, which he isn't, silver & stewy are quite similar. kendall would channel it into trying to be mean and nasty to him. silver would be terrified of stewy.

something that can actually be so personal is silver & shiv repression hookup buddies with very strict rules around it like NO kissing NO affection of any kind. it’s the most unpleasant unintimate thing ever; think flintmiranda s1 but without the hugging at the end. it’s competitive but not against each other, against themselves. it’s a performance. outlet for frustration & anger with the people they’re Weird And Insane about (tom, every woman her age that shiv interacts with, flint.) 

potentially silver & flint meet when silver is ingratiating himself to the roy family & flint is trying to get close to kill someone or steal something so he’s posing as the captain on a yacht or whatever. this part is just an excuse so he can still be captain flint. 

shiv has a massive crush on madi. you agree. madi gives her one (1) chance to join her and take a stand against the roys/be some kind of inside agent and shiv immediately just starts stuttering and is like “well, i- i mean i- i don’t know- god, like-” and madi is like okay thats a no then! moves on and NEVER even LOOKS at shiv again. madi never even THINKS about shiv again. meanwhile shiv is just. obsessed. shiv and madi are at the same party and shiv goes outside, smokes five cigarettes, comes back in and starts trying to act like someone she thinks madi would pay attention to. silver comes over and is like what are you doing? shiv is like what? silver is like why are you copying me?

shiv trying to be confident because madi is confident & she wants to impress her, but she fucks it up like she fucked up the dinner where she dropped the CEO bomb; she’s an insecure person trying to be confident, but she’s so deeply insecure she doesn’t even know what confidence looks like, so she can’t successfully imitate it. 

max and shiv do not like each other. shiv would be jealous of the fact that max has a genuine bond with silver and she doesn't really. even though their rule is no affection shiv has 0 friends and she does get along with silver as well as she does with anyone- at least, she is actually honest with him to some extent in a very intimate way- which she mistakes for friendship because she doesn't really have any actual friends. so she sees max and silver being actually besties and is jealous because she only has One Person or Two People (silver, tom) and she doesn't like that silver has Multiple People (her and also other people who mean more to him) she cant take being second in line.

this obviously causes massive drama when silver gets with flint AND madi and shiv is shitty to him about it in a really fucked up away because she doesn't understand love not being a scarcity. shes hitting below the belt because this means he doesn't need her anymore and this just violates her enjoyment of them both being miserable together. as long as they're both like this it's fine, you know? i think shiv is someone who really desperately wants to be Normal if you look at the way she tries to make her relationship with tom Make Sense in phrasing & words that are already in use (i'm not built for monogamy, love is bullshit). she doesn't want to feel like a freak, so silver moving on is something she HATES and can't deal with it because it isolates her; it's not "well some people are just like this", it's "well I'M just like this." which she does NOT know how to do.

[supercantaloupe]

on Aelwyn Abernant, the Reformed Villain Squad, and redeeming teenage antagonists

an analysis on antagonist character development in Fantasy High. spoilers through sophomore year and (mildly so) the most recent roll20 oneshot. essay under the cut bc i am very long winded

the turnaround with Aelwyn in s2 is handled so well  i cant get over it. she was such a major antagonist in the first season and just. despicable. she had no pathos. we hated this bitchy older sister who tried to kill Adaine and her friends and raise an evil dragon, and when she gets knocked on her ass and thrown in jail, we cheer.

and then s2 fucking starts saying “hey she’s in jail still if you’d like to look into that” and pursuing that thread ends up being almost as comedic an idea as it is a reluctant one; it’s also quickly shunted to the background as soon as more pressing leads present themselves, to the point where we almost forget about her until Adaine is kidnapped and then the first time you see her it’s just. viscerally upsetting.

she’s bad. she did evil. she got what she deserved.

but she already got what she deserved. last season.

she got her ass handed to her by a bunch of 14 year olds including her little sister (how embarrassing!). her plans were thwarted. she got punched in the face and made fun of. she already got her punishment.

it just……immediately registers as over-the-top Wrong to be told “hey, remember that antagonist you beat last season? she’s still being punished for that, except it’s way worse than just going to mumple.”

and there’s that reminder that like…this is a teenager. a child. who has been manipulated and abused. which is a really fascinating look at this character we used to see pretty much unilaterally as a one dimensional bitchy villain.

i mean we got a more in depth look at Penelope’s and Biz’s motivations in s1 (Penelope being the popular rich girl sorceress obviously hungry for power and the alllure of the high school clout that is being prom queen, but also we know that her having to turn on her best friend Sam Nightingale as part of the scheme was something she was reluctant and not happy to do; and Biz being that predatory incel creeper type dude besides just a nerd with computers and a lack of social graces). and they were as much willingly active in the plot as Aelwyn was. yet in s1 they really never do bother to explore Aelwyn’s motivations. i remember after watching s1 but before s2 that was one of my biggest lingering questions: why tf was Aelwyn involved?

well. she was manipulated and abused. her terrible parents raised her in an awful environment that conditioned her to Listen and Obey and Behave and Be Perfect, and then Kalina helped cinch the noose around her neck with threats and coersion into the KVS Kaper and the NMK crown debacle. she doesn’t freely choose any of it; she’s coerced, manipulated, abused.

and she already got justifiably punished for her bad actions in s1. the torture is almost literal overkill. it’s just……there’s this immediate turnaround in sympathy and view of the character. on first watch, it’s viscerally upsetting to see her getting so brutally punished for actions she already faced consequences for, and on rewatch, it makes your skin crawl to know she’s being tortured for terrible things she had little choice in carrying out. and tortured by some of the very same people who coerced her to behave terribly in the first place, to add insult to injury.

and it’s still fucking frustrating when they rescue her and her memory gets reset and she goes back to her parents because it’s like “well shit, she’s evil again, and we just wasted all that effort for nothing” but it’s also sad cause we know she’s running back to her abusers and she isn’t happy about it but doesn’t feel like she has a choice. and it’s sadder still that what eventually inevitably gets her to turn to good for good (i.e. away from her parents) is just. a full dissociative mental breakdown.

(but then she survives and it’s gonna be good!!! until Adaine dies in her fucking arms. which is. almost funny. she’s been through so much shit and that isn’t something that Brennan would have just. preplanned. like a written in plot point. no, that was just an unpredictable consequence of the battle. what a juicy fucking moment. she’s been through All That Shit™️ and has finally turned to fight for good and her sister just fully dies in front of her. yeowch)

and she turns out okay in the end. she comes out the other side alive and whole and supported by her sister and her friends, with the hope of a future and recovery. there is an acknowledgement that A) she can and will grow from her mistakes and damage, B) it’s going to be really hard, and C) the post-s2 one shots both prove that she’s doing okay now. hell, she has a whole squad now of other former-teenage-villains-turned-good-guys. she has friends now, Ragh and Zayn, with common ground, and a secret handshake and everything. they’ve all grown from the mistakes of their past into better, happier, healthier people

and about Zayn and Ragh. we’ve seen a lot of characters, protagonist and antagonist, teenage and adult, PC and NPC do some really fucked up shit and get punished for it. but why do they get happy endings? why are Aelwyn, Ragh, and Zayn the only members of the RVS and not someone else like Biz or Penelope or Dayne? 

well, the latter two are dead by then; but then again, Biz and Ragh were also killed by the Bad Kids in s1, and subsequently resurrected. (Zayn died too, but was neither killed nor revived at the Bad Kids’ hands, so i’ll get to him in a sec.) and there are plenty of adult antagonists the Bad Kids face who are killed and left that way by the Bad Kids without second thought: Johnny Spells, Coach Daybreak, Captain Wicklaw, the Abernant parents (presuming Arianwen doesn’t survive in the forest for very long, which i doubt). why do some characters get second chances while others don’t?

in the case of Zayn, his death was pretty much out of the Bad Kids’ hands, and they later found out he was manipulated by Daybreak into being bad anyway because of his sad living situation. he was a pretty minor antagonist in the scheme of things, and when we re-meet him as a ghost in the s1 epilogue, he’s pretty obviously remorseful for his actions. and dying seems like a steep enough punishment to me for the shit he did to contribute to the KVX caper; returning as a ghost, free from the trappings of his unfortunate living life, he now has the room and freedom to grow into a better person.

in the cases of Daybreak, Spells, Wicklaw, and the Abernant parents: these are bad people who should know better. these are fully grown adults who actively choose to do evil. whether they think it’s the right thing to do or not (in Daybreak’s case), whether they think it will benefit them and don’t care about anyone else (in the Abernants’ case), or whether they don’t care much at all and are just doing shit because they feel like it (in the cases of Spells and Wicklaw), these are all adults who consciously make the decision to do terrible things and hurt other people. of course Johnny Spells, who is generally a punk thief and thug, is not on the same level of bad as Angwyn, who kidnaps and tortures his own daughters for political gain, but the point remains. these fuckers should know better. they’re grown ups. they had their chances to be good and they chose not to heed them. their minds are set on bad actions and they are a continued danger to other people as long as they are alive. when they die, the Bad Kids do their damndest to make sure it stays that way.

now, in the cases of Penelope and Dayne: these are teenagers who actively chose to participate in an evil plot. Penelope, Dayne, and Biz were all fully cognizant of what they were doing trying to raise KVX back to his former power. why? well, to some extent, we can only speculate. i suspect Penelope was just one of those Regina George bitches who is rich and popular and powerful and obsessed with power and popularity within high school as if that’s the end-all-be-all of existence (which, like, when you’re currently in high school, is a somewhat understandable worldview i think). Dayne being her boyfriend and a musclehead jock probably falls into a similar line of thinking. they are actively and willingly trying to cause harm, and teenager or not, must be stopped. they’re killed, anyway, during the Climactic Battle™️ anyhow; it’s not like the Bad Kids were going to gain anything at that point by keeping them alive.

now, Biz: Biz is the creepy Nice Guy incel type, sees woman as a prize he deserves to win, yadda yadda. he does, like Penelope and Dayne, actively choose to help KVX. there might be something to be said about his motivation the Bad Kids discover after the arcade battle by detecting his thoughts (that being to upload the captured maidens from the palimpsests to “call the shots” himself) is an altered memory; whether this was his original motivation from the start or not, i’m not sure. but the Bad Kids do kill him – and then resurrect him for important, time-sensitive information. and they beat it out of him – he gets two of his fucking fingers blown off. and Riz reattaches them once they have their info, and they realize his memory is altered. of course, the Bad Kids don’t know at this point that the altered memory was something he, Penelope, and Aelwyn had planned and agreed on and done to themselves, but this points to something important in my opinion: the Bad Kids, and the narrative/show as a whole by extension, acknowledge that external manipulation affects how guilty someone is in a crime.

which brings us to Ragh. Ragh, introduced from episode 1 as the meathead jock. Ragh the archetypical one-dimensional high school bully. Ragh who works with the harvestmen in effort to (ostensibly) end the world/provoke international war. Ragh, whose low intelligence but high loyalty and internalized homophobia led him to be fully swayed and blindly led by his coach and captain, who have actively chosen to do evil. Ragh who is killed in combat by the Bad Kids and resurrected for information, not Daybreak. Ragh, who the Bad Kids realize was probably not aware of exactly what he was being made to do and how bad it really was. Ragh, who by their kindness in sparing his life and directing him on a better path, becomes a well-rounded character and an active ally to the Bad Kids during and after prom, an invaluable companion during their quest in sophomore year, and overall a really good friend and person. 

(it might also be worth considering the case of Jawbone here, too, who started out a very minor antagonist in a fight but ended up becoming a major NPC because the Bad Kids talked to him, found out he came from an unfortunate situation and set of circumstances, and showed him kindness in offering the school guidance counselor position, a kindness that isn’t really owed but given anyway and ends up changing his entire life for good.)

and then, Aelwyn, whose case is already discussed above. so, why is the RVS what it is, why them but not others?

if you’re familiar with Avatar: the Last Airbender, you’re probably familiar with Zuko’s character arc, and how it’s often lauded as a masterful example of developing a villain into a hero over the course of a narrative. what makes Zuko’s arc so well done and exceptional is that he starts out as a kid in a bad situation under the influence of bad adults seeking to do bad deeds, but he later realizes the error of those ways, actively removes himself from that situation despite the difficulty and danger in doing so, goes through a lot of shit and reflects on his past mistakes and learns from them, and then actively chooses to fight for good in the end with the help of close, trusted friends, found family. 

this, i believe, is the same in the case of Fantasy High and its treatment of the RVS. its members, like Zuko, are all teenagers who came from shitty situations and were manipulated by evil adults to do bad. they are punished for their bad actions, and they learn from their errors and mistakes. with the kindness and help of good people, friends and chosen family, they are able to escape their abusers and bad situations and grow into their own people. and they actively choose to improve themselves with that help and fight for good.

Fantasy High, through the arcs of Jawbone, Zayn, Ragh, and especially Aelwyn, asserts that it is not your fault if you come from a bad situation and are forced to behave badly as a result. it does not pretend that you are absolved of any responsibility for those actions; quite the opposite, as even though they were externally manipulated into their evil actions, all of those mentioned characters face tangible consequences for their actions and later express remorse for their mistakes. but Fantasy High also asserts that even if you have made great mistakes in your past, even if you came from a bad situation beyond your control, even if you were manipulated and abused, with care and love and support and a hell of a lot of work and effort, you can improve your situation and find good, happiness, peace, you can thrive. evil adults who should know better don’t get redeemed. teenagers who aren’t coerced but actively choose evil don’t get redeemed. but abused kids deserve another shot at happiness. with enough work, and some love and help along the way, they can get there, even from the lowest imaginable point, from rock fucking buttom. it’s possible. 

[lovelivingmydreams]

What is a happy ending?

So someone (looks sternly at @rondoel) thought giving me insight in a certain OC of theirs and making me feel things is an okay thing to do. That I won't proceed to write a heartbreaking epilogue to my two part Virgil king story. This one not as long. But still. Enjoy:

What is a happy ending?

"Why happily ever after?" King wondered aloud as He studied their latest piece of art.

No one had ever answered that question for Him. Not in a meaningful way at least. And it never truly stopped bothering Him.

"Your majesty?" Anxiety asked carefully. Probably not sure if he had been meant to hear. King wasn't so sure Himself.

Oh well. He might as well finish the thought. Something interesting might come from it.

"Happily ever after. It's so... boring. Why does everyone like it so much?" He had wondered so often...

Anxiety shrugged. "Princey loved that crap. He hated it when I called out the flaws, though he could be just as bad with plot holes.

It's not realistic at all and... well boring is one word for it." His tone and face could almost be mistaken for dismissive, but King could swear He spotted fondness in the upturn of Anxiety's mouth and a slight wistfulness in the shine of his eyes.

King however was more interested in this more nuanced perspective on the story trope. Answers at last?

Anxiety noticed his king desired for him to elaborate and immediately started fidgeting as he tried to find the words to express his thoughts sufficiently.

"I suppose... everyone thinks that's what they want?" His nerves turn the sentence into a question. "When they are little it's an easy goal. You find the one who'll make you whole, or defeat the villain, or both. And then nothing ever bothers you again.

It's not how life works though... and growing up... I think everyone still has a part of them that wants to hold on to things being that... simple..." Anxiety trailed off and looked up at king curiously. His face strangely focused as if he was looking for an answer himself.

"Simple?" King urged wanting to hear more. Anxiety was so close to making sense. So close to bringing about that wonderful feeling when curiosity was sated. A story complete at last.

"Um... yeah... I mean even I feel a little... I don’t know... it feels right?

When you do the right thing, even when it's hard and you get the stuff you want anyway. And when people who hurt you don’t win. You want the world to work like that. If not for you then at least for the servant girl, who just wanted a night off, or the waitress who just wanted to buy her father's dream restaurant. Hard work, kindness, patience... they should be rewarded right?" Anxiety explained. Sounding frustrated. "And..." he let out a resigned sigh before straightening up and continued more decidedly. "Since the world doesn't work that way... why not escape somewhere where it does?" It was passionate. Perhaps in defense of Roman's favorite thing in the world. Then that fight and righteous defiance fell away in favor of a nostalgic fondness. "Thomas did it all the time growing up," Anxiety sighed before returning his attention to the painting that had prompted the question. A Father's Day movie night.

Hugs and snacks and movies with happily ever afters galore. All of Morality's favorite things.

King had to admit it had... stung to discover that Morality had taken up the role He'd given him even after he betrayed everything that title stood for.

Had he ever felt even the slightest bit conflicted when hearing Roman calling him 'Padre'?

Or was it supposed to be fine, since he thought Roman was the only half of Him who felt attached to him that way?

Had it truly never occurred to him that while he took in the confused Roman, he left behind a disoriented and heartbroken Remus who didn't understand why daddy was ignoring him.

What had he done wrong?

Why did he never get bedtime stories or hugs from dad? Why was he shoved away, scolded, ignored?

Why was he not allowed to play in the imagination with his brother?

The last thought had plagued both halves for years.

Even Roman who had stopped admitting to it to please Morality felt conflicted during story times and hugs to this day.

Telling Thomas that he didn't want anything to do with his brother had hurt more than the bump on his head...

But all of that was in the past. They were gone and their unresolved issues were a waste of His time. He had berated, tormented, Anxiety over this. He would not fall victim to such sentimentalities Himself.

"I see... escapism then?" He muttered, trying to get back on topic and not to show the... somewhat emotional turn His thoughts had taken.

Like His halves, His 'Padre' was gone. He probably never existed in the first place.

And Morality would pay for that betrayal and the way he abandoned Remus and how he made Roman fight to earn his love, only to abandon him as well. His suffering had only just begun.

Not because it still mattered. But... any excuse to justify and fuel His wrath even a little bit more was good enough for Him.

He'd probably avenge slights against his minister simply to feign kinship and watch the traitors squirm under his rule just a bit more. Not that he needed a reason to do anything. But justified rage was so much more satisfying to set loose. Because the targets would feel, deep down, they brought this upon themselves.

"Yeah... there's enough crappy stuff going on in the world right? Thomas... wants to use his talents to make people smile. And while that's cheesy, it's also... well it's him," Anxiety shrugged. King hummed in agreement as He framed the picture and put it away. He'd barely paid attention honestly. The answer was satisfactory. But there was a new question on His mind. As He mused over His minister's attachments to His enemies and how to sever them He recalled something intriguing about his recent behavior.

Anxiety had been pulling away from Morality. Why? What had caused a crack in 'the bestest most dynamicest duoest duo'?

And was this something he could use to forge an allegiance. Or to hurt Morality as deeply as He'd been hurt. Or, ideally, both?

King smirked to Himself as He laid a gentle hand on Anxiety's shoulder. He asked about a drawing of the young side and Thomas. He was pleased to note that His minister no longer shrank away every time He moved in his general direction. He might not be comfortable with His touch yet, but he was getting used to it. Something that would surely get to the others who still tiptoed around Anxiety's boundaries.

Maybe, at some point, he could be made to truly see things His way. To see the traitors for the villains they were. Just the thought of the chaos that this realization would unleash... It would be magnificent.

Morality had forgotten something important about 'happily ever after's.

Bad guys don’t get them. And the victor is always the hero.

It was only right that King reminded him of the shadow side of his favourite ending.

By making him live it.

Virgil knew that it was a bad thing that he found himself enjoying talking about his memories to the king and watching them turn into pretty cool paintings.

He was Anxiety, this was definitely a crisis. He can't relax now, not around the reason of said crisis... but if he doesn't relax a little his thoughts might do something really bad. And if he doesn't do whatever the king wants, then the king might do something bad.

So he had to balance on this weird edge of anxious, but cool with it.

The others were counting on him. To stay safe, to keep it together, to keep King distracted, to find a way to get him to lay off a little...

"Worthless." And... the thing is back.

"Dude, seriously, not now!" He snapped at his... shadow.

King just looked on intrigued. Great. Now the shadow had King's attention.

"Failure," it hissed. Right... King is not his biggest problem right now.

So far the shadow had only been mildly annoying even quiet for the most part. But clearly anxious thoughts made it remember it could be a pain in the behind. And worst thing is it got to Virgil even more because it laid out his true fears for King to see and use against him.

"You... you are just... you're just a thought. You can't hurt me." Virgil insisted.

Thomas could deal with his irrational fits. Surely he could manage this thing, right?

"Monsssster," the shadow hissed. No he didn't think that anymore!

"Guardian!" Virgil bit back. Patton said so, Logan said so, Roman said so, Thomas said so... why cant he just believe them?

He found himself struggling to breath again. The thoughts... they were real now... what if they could hurt him...? Can he die? What would happen to Thomas?

"Begone!" Virgil snapped out of his near attack at the sudden outburst from King.

What...?

He looked up just in time to see a flash of metal and shadow's dissolving figure.

"It'll reform later," King muttered as he sheeted his sword.

"It became too bothersome. You should not let your creations have power over you young one. You are their master, don't forget that," he instructed calmly, not looking at him.

Did he just...?

"Return to your business now, I find that I am in need of a break," he then declared as he walked away, still not looking back.

"But..." he came to a halt. "Should you wish to finish our gallery... I might be willing to indulge your presence later."

Virgil didn't quiet know what to do, so he bowed, just in case the king could see it somehow. "Y-yes my king. Thank you," he stammered hurriedly.

When he looked up, the king was gone.

And Virgil ran. He needed to find Lo and Pat before the shadows returned.

His thoughts were a confused mess... he hadn't imagined that right?

King had really stepped in to save him instead of letting Virgil's punishment, gift, curse, whatever run its course...

And then he left it up to Virgil to decide if and when they'd finish up.

There was probably some messed up reason behind it... but still.

Virgil wasn't stupid though. Even if saving him had been a purely noble impulse, King hadn't undone his 'gift' to make sure it wouldn't happen again. Telling him to put his foot down with 'his own creations' didn't really count.

King still messed up real bad and would have to do something pretty impressive to make up for all of that.

And Virgil was pretty sure that it wasn't just his pessimism talking when he thought that the king was no where close to wanting to make nice with any of them.

Or not for the right reasons anyway.

He shook his head. He can worry about all that later. Right now he has to find the others. Before King runs into one of them.

Virgil's trip down memory lane might've been deemed 'entertaining' or whatever, but he hadn't be around for whatever had happened to make the king be out for blood in the first place.

He didn't want to find out what King's idea of 'having fun' was when it came to Pat, Lo or even Janus. Whatever they did, it was still his duty to protect Thomas. Physically, socially, mentally and emotionally. Whether he wanted him to or not.

And not even King was going to stop him from fulfilling his purpose.

@antiredhuman you wanted to be tagged if I wrote more for this au so here you go! Hope you like it!

[omegawolverine]

I know you posted it days ago but you said something about wanting to rant about either karl or his fanbase and its been itching at my brain. Ive no clue whats happening or what is happening at all cause no one seems to be making clear points?? Or explaining anything?

Obviously you do NOT have to talk about it im sure it might be a sore point to rant because people can get SO needlessly rude to others over it. But if you want to idk explain? Just rant? Im definetly curious what it was over or about.

The "you dont need to talk about this" is amplified by the fact i am DAYS late and you are probably over it by now.

okay hi yes im happy to talk about this but i think i should preface with two things:

1) even tho it may seem like im biased towards him or being very defensive of him im actually a super casual karl viewer and the only reason i am super defensive of him sometimes is bc we act a lot alike irl and that is mainly because of our neurodivegency. when i say a lot i mean we share traits like "annoying" stimming (jumping around, making loud noises, repeating the same phrases until everyone is sick of hearing them), the difficulty reading situations, the very obvious issues with volume control and not just bouncing from subject to subject to subject as we fucking please. basically anything you've seen karl do on stream that is Very Neurodivergent ive done the same in my own way which is why i get defensive when i see people calling him annoying or saying they dont like him, usually for these types of reasons. that being said, when i say im a very casual karl viewer, i fucking mean it. i usually only watch him when he's streaming with other ccs i like or when he's doing chill alt streams bc even with the annoying donos, he's pretty relaxing and comforting when he's just fucking around by himself and he isnt trying to get as hype as he would on a main channel stream. so yeah, it may seem like im biased and sure, i guess i am on some level, but it's not coming from a place of me hyperfixating on him or me even loving him as a cc, it's coming from me being a neurodivergent who likes him just enough to get upset when i see people basically being casually ableist towards him.

2) i dont have all the facts or even a great understanding on what the fuck has been happening recently with his "drama"...mostly bc he talked about it on his priv, which im not on, and people are gatekeeping the tweets, as they always do, and basically making you "dm to see them" (which is already a problem in and of itself bc apparently in these tweets he said he didnt want them being ss and shared, yet they are being shared thru dms over and over and over again like. at that point just stop withholding the information and post the fucking shit, you clearly dont care that he said "dont share"). additionally, most of the threads ive seen on this situation havent actually explained the initial issue, just talked about his apology (a lot of people have said "it's bad" but havent said why and with no screenshots ((i havent asked for someone to dm me them and i still havent seen them posted, which is mildly surprising, but incredibly frustrating at this point)), i only have a few basic details i can actually assess it on) or they talked about the initial issue in very vague details so um. excuse me trying to explain this now, but ill try and make it make sense with how little ive actually pieced together.

(oh, also, here's my first rant about the ableism in this fandom which is way more broad. this is a pretty different rant from that one, but they're both pretty big reasons why i hate this fandoms treatment of karl)

so basically the problems started with mr beast being apart of a charity stream that donated either to autism speaks or to a similar company, im unsure on that part. im also unsure on if the people participating in the stream actually knew of this or not bc, from what i remember, the money was being donated to a separate organization that was like. under the bad company or some shit like that, idk how stuff like that works and also i read about this shit months ago bc this originally happened months ago and just sorta came to a head recently.

anyways, i think karl was supposed to be apart of this stream but pulled out of it right before (that or these were two separate streams and karl was supposed to participate in the first but pulled out while mr beast did both?? idk. regardless karl did not actually participate, just mr beast). from there people started doing the guilt from association bullshit they always do, this was also doubled by the fact that the chris being racist stuff came out sometime around then and basically he got dragged all over twitter for "being ableist" and "supporting racists" and i cant remember if he actually apologized when this originally happened or not. i vaguely remember him apologizing about something back then but i genuinely dont know if it was this or something else.

basically that died down eventually, a good chunk of people unstanned him but him and honktwt didnt end up getting the lovely lil technotwt treatment and they still havent yet, surprisingly. good for them honestly ajsksk

but now we get to the past few weeks and apparently something happened with him "laughing at someone saying the r slur" (it was mizkif, i believe), specifically when it was directed at other people, which is a big yikes, obviously, but when karl was called out for this a lot of people kind of. made this into a situation that it wasnt bc um. basically karl didnt laugh at it, he gave a few nervous giggles, as people often do when in a situation like that (and karl specifically said he does this in the one part of his apology tweet which i did stumble upon, although it wasnt the important part of the apology thread bc why would it be) and people fucking crucified him for it. they quite literally dragged a neurodivergent man for supposedly "laughing at the r slur" when he can literally reclaim it and also he was just nervous laughing.

and this is where the situation just gets really bad because they. basically forced him to admit that he was autistic on his priv to apologize for this. i havent seen the screenshots of him saying this, but i saw people discussing it and i am frankly so fucking pissed about this because sure, it was a bad situation, and i understand people wanting an explanation, but an apology? for a neurodivergent man nervous laughing at a slur he can reclaim? and then forcing the man to admit something he literally said in that tweet he didnt want people to know which is why people were being so gatekeepy about it while also LOUDLY discussing the situation, as if that wouldnt drive MORE PEOPLE to look for screenshots and ways to get ahold of this information? and then people had the audacity to call it a "bad apology" when they had quite literally just violated his privacy by forcing him to admit something that he shouldnt have needed to share in the first place if he didnt want to, which he didnt.

and this is why im so pissed off. karl is already constantly picked at and made fun of and called annoying for his neurodivergent traits, things which he literally cant help, things which are generally harmless, and now he was forced into a situation where he can now be further picked at and made fun of and called annoying bc they forced him to admit something private instead of just understanding and accepting that he had been nervous laughing at someone using a slur he has definetly been called for his neurodivergency.

tldr of my thoughts: yes i think karl needed to address this situation, it definetly looked bad, but twitter stans have this sense of entitlement with their ccs and because of that, they consistently take it way too far and harm the people they claim to care about so dearly. we've seen it happen time and time again with dream, but this is the first time ive seen them basically force someone to out themselves to make their apology "valid" and most of them still seem to not want to accept it anyways, which just makes me feel bad for him bc now that info is out their and people are just disregarding it to continue "holding him accountable".

anyways, i think that's all i can really say on this topic rn tbh, if anyone else knows this situation better please feel free to lmk clarifications and ill add them in since, like i said, i know fuck all thanks to twitter being so goddamn hush hush about the important details while simultaneously being the loudest mfers about how much they hate karl now instead of just fucking unfollowing and moving on.

thanks for the ask and im sorry if this is confusing!! i just think this is one of those weird situations where like. i think karl deserved some criticism for what happened and how he handled it or at least he shouldve been asked to address it but that just. isnt what happened, at all. he was harrassed. karl got harrassed and because of that he handled this situation even more sloppily than he probably wouldve and exposed private info about himself that he didnt feel comfortable doing and it just. fucking sucks tbh.

[valorxdrive]

♕ - In a realm that held no bastion of light, some ways familiar, other ways foreign, there had been no true answer into where he’d come to remain after accepting his price of power. Sora even now held no regrets despite how his body was ran ragged, stunned, and locked into the reckoning of an uphill battle after finding himself immersed in what feels like a world’s end. Too many questions were being cemented away into the form of white noise in order to obey the first priority. To fight for his life. It was a command from the heart he’d listen too without heed, allowing for that remnants of that greatly forged power to run on all the cylinder’s it could to ensure he remained in one piece.

So he’d brave the depths of this hazed like dimension. A place where mysterious figures wielding the might of the arcane swarmed. His heart already managed to discern a central hint about all of them, from their dark masks, to the concentrated barriers of power, blades and archaic tomes as they sang vicious tunes in supplication of their sacrilege. None of this could ever make hope to make sense to him, amidst this exhaustion, in the flames of new unknown war. All he could tell is that the force he exudes like fresh water from a spring, light, served to be a symbol of their fury.

As if his existence here through the use of this power struck a painful chord that elevated their desire to lay claim to Sora.

Nothing but explosion after explosion, swing after swing, from the cacophony of their war and fallen cries, to the keybearer’s vicious roar and the swordsong performed by the magical blade tucked into his hand, only one truth manages to become clear amidst this destruction; it’s ripples could clearly be felt from the endless miles beyond. A potent resolve to press himself back into a realm that had no desire for his disobedience, to see the many loved ones he gained over the answer known as his journey, it’d allow for the victor who triumphed over a fraction of infinite power to reveal exactly what ‘plague’ managed to worm it’s way into ends that aim to fight the divine.

An anomaly, it could be considered the way to describe the battle that transpires, one that causes even the fabric of this said realm through the use of that mysterious key to become a bit more loose thanks to his penchant of leaving dimensional threads unwoven. By the time any semblance of calm could be swept up....

Sora would be the one to reap the rewards of his struggle; survival.

“Still.. Hadn’t figured out where.. I am exactly..” As if they the others were willing to exactly offer him that benefit. By now pain was a familiar friend, sweeping across his body through freshly healed burns, newly made cuts and the exhaustion of heart more then anything else. After the hellish perils known as Xehanort, strength may of been found, however limits were a constant human lock to be respected. Amidst his weary vision and the hints of even more of this seemingly endless army approaching, amalgamating back into new and mildly familiar forms, frustration could only allow him to grit his teeth. As the keyblade’s teeth remained as a balance holder within the primal earth, his bloodied face cants upward, each breath a desperate need to gather up fuel...

Why won’t this shivering cease. Finding himself plagued by that weariness.. It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, after all, in a plane that could be easily described at The Universe’s End, a battle that melted the barrier of mind and matter had taken draw him to his limits.

He’s going to need some help..

In the meantime? All he could attempt to do was try to draw himself back onto his feet. To level himself away from this crater that an explosive clash had ate into, serving as his momentary reprieve.

@lunaether​

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Happy Anniversary

Characters: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When Tom makes you believe that he forgot your anniversary, he makes it up to you in the bedroom.

Warnings: Smut. Dirty talk.

A/N: This is my submission into @just-the-hiddles​ 1k celebration! Congrats, lovely! You deserve every single one!

Permanent taglist (open): @vodka-and-some-sass​ @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @myoxisbroken​ @blah666 @brokenthelovely​ @myworddump​ @polireader​ @wiczer​ @yespolkadotkitty​

“Stupid angel face, my ass.”

You had seen what the internet called your boyfriend, and while you usually agreed with their assessments of how lovely he was, right now they had no idea how frustrating he could be in real life.

Like when he forgot your one-year anniversary while he was halfway across the world on a press junket. You had spent the entire day, waiting for at the very least a phone call, only to get nothing in return. No text, no phone call, no delivery of a bouquet of your favorite flowers to your shared flat, no response for the treats you had arranged through Luke for him to receive. Nothing.

To say that your feelings were a little hurt was putting it mildly.

So now, with only one hour left to go before your anniversary was over, you were calling it. It wasn’t like him to forget to message you at least one time throughout his busy schedule, especially on such an important day. You crawled into the bed, the linens no longer scented with Tom’s preferred cologne, falling into a deep sleep with Bobby curled up at your feet.

It was still dark when Bobby’s barks startled you awake. You bolted upright, shoving your mussed hair out of your face. The back door creaked open and closed, and the barking stopped. Heart pounding in your chest, you reached for your phone on the nightstand.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. You froze, as if the soft golden light from the streetlamps outside that filtered in through the gauzy curtains would suddenly conceal instead of illuminating you, kneeling on the bed in your boyfriend’s worn t-shirt. When a tall, slender figure appeared in the doorway, you shrieked and threw the nearest object at him, which just happened to be a pillow. Real threatening.

“It’s me, sweetheart!” Tom shouted, catching the pillow you had lobbed at him, holding it and his other hand up in surrender as he stepped out of the shadows.

Settling back down on your bottom, you scowled at him, tamping down the excitement at his surprise visit. “You scared me half to death, Tom.”

He tossed the pillow onto his side of the bed, taking off his shoes to set them alongside the wall. “I was hoping to surprise you before you fell asleep, but the second flight was delayed. I’m sorry, love.”

Sticking to your guns, you leaned back against the headboard, crossing your arms over your stomach. “You didn’t text or call or anything,” you grumbled, knowing that you sounded like a whining child, but unable to stop yourself.

The faint light caught the planes of his torso as he pulled off his t-shirt, drawing your greedy eyes to him despite your frustrations. It wasn’t fair that he could be so beautiful after having spent the entire day traveling. He grinned broadly, kicking off his pants as he knelt beside you on the bed. “Happy anniversary.”

“Nope.” You turned your head away from him. “I’m mad at you. I was worried.”

His hands, warm and soft, slid beneath your shirt and around your waist to pull your back into his bare chest. He pressed a lingering kiss to the soft skin just beneath your ear. “I thought the surprise would be worth it. I deeply apologize.”

You did your best to ignore him, but it was so damn hard with his fingers ghosting up your sternum and over your breast to tweak your nipple just right. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, giving him more room to lavish your neck with lingering kisses that shot straight down to the heat pooling between your legs. “No, you don’t get to come in here and think you’re okay just because you - oh!”

Your mouth fell open in a gasp when his other hand dipped beneath your underwear, grazing the bundle of electrified nerves he found within. His chuckle, dark and low, practically thrummed through you from where his mouth had latched onto your jaw.

“I know you aren’t truly mad at me, sweetheart,” he murmured, dipping his deft fingers into your center. You canted your hips into him, leaning more of your weight into his firm chest as you melted with each tweak of your nipple and brush of the heel of his hand over your clit. “I am so terribly sorry for any undue stress that I caused you. It was unconsciously done. You are so beautiful, so magnificent, that the thought of returning home to you for our anniversary clouded my judgment. I could only think of you.”

Each practiced touch upon your flushed skin sent another wave of liquid heat to your core, your muscles loosening and tightening in turn as you sought your pleasure with each roll of your hips into his hand. His own arousal pressed against your lower back, hot and heavy and grinding slowly against you in rhythm with the curl of his fingers.

“Of your body.” He licked a stripe from your shoulder to your jaw. “Writhing beneath mine.” His hand left your breast to splay his hand across your lower belly, pressing you into his erection. “My name on your lips as I bring you to the brink of ecstasy again and again. Think about it,” he purred, finding that spot inside of you that made the edges of your vision go white with pleasure, unraveling the last of your flimsy resolve.

You twisted in his embrace, ripping off your t-shirt before wrapping your arms around his neck. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth,” you hissed, just before crashing your mouth against his.

His quiet laughter turned into a groan you swallowed greedily, the kiss a fierce meeting of lips and teeth and tongue born of desperation and fueled by the fire he had stoked to life within your core. He tasted of coffee, bitter and sweet, and that indescribable flavor that was just Tom that you craved more than air at that moment. Your hands tangled in his auburn locks, grown out so it curled at the ends, holding him just where you needed for your exploration of his mouth.

“Eager, are you?” he asked, panting against your skin as he lowered you to the bed, his hands curling around your ribcage.

In the soft light, he was a vision with kiss-swollen lips and glittering eyes with pupils blown as he gazed down at you stretched out before him. Your hand reached out, palming him through his underwear. You reveled in the sight of his head falling back and eyes closing at the intimate gesture, his mouth falling open to let out a breathy sigh that curled in the air between you, making goosebumps crawl over your skin.

Power rushed through you, heady and intense, as you stroked the length of him through the restrictive fabric. It was you who was making him lose control in your hands, his fists clutching onto the rumpled sheets as he groaned out his desire into the quiet flat.

With a growl, he suddenly shoved your hand away from him, shifting on the bed to pull off first his underwear and then yours, tossing them to the corner of the room. He sat with his back against the headboard, tugging you up into his lap with his hands around your wrists. Your knees settled on either side of his waist, and he guided you down onto him slowly, drawing out a soft sigh from you both once he was fully inside of you.

“Oh, I missed you,” he whispered reverently, gasping the words out against your neck as his arms wrapped around your back to press your chests together.

He stretched you pleasantly, sating a need deep within you that only he could reach. No amount of phone calls or text messages would replicate this feeling, of his heart racing against yours or his hands clutching at your back desperately. The releases you had found with your own fingers couldn’t replicate the scent of your combined arousal, thick in the air and your name uttered like a prayer from his lips. Your hips found an easy pace over him, each gyration rubbing his pelvis against the hardened bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs and making his breath hitch in his throat.

Soon enough, his hands found their place at your hips, holding you steady as he thrust hard and fast into you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your mouth anchored itself to his throat as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of your ecstasy. The delightful rasp of his chest hair against your sensitive nipples only added to the inferno raging inside of you, and the sound of your name on his lips was what sent you over the edge.

You cried out against his sweat-dampened skin, your nails digging into him as your entire body spasmed around him in time with the flashes of light sparking behind your clenched eyelids. Your release triggered his own, and he slammed into you once, twice, three times before stilling within you.

Melting into him, you lifted your head, resting your forehead against his as you came down from the incredible high of your shared orgasm. His touch was soothing, light, his fingertips tracing the dip of your spine over and over again. The kiss he bestowed upon you was languid, full to the brim with adoration and tenderness that made your drumming heart clench in your chest.

“Happy anniversary,” he cooed, smoothing a tendril of hair away from your forehead, caressing your cheek as he did so.

You pecked a light kiss to his nose before climbing off of him, relishing in the familiar ache in your thighs as you collapsed onto the bed beside him. You patted his thigh. “Happy anniversary. Now go let Bobby in.”

His answering groan was not one of pleasure this time, but dread. He quickly straddled your hips, tickling your sides until your laughter echoed about the room. “But I am not yet finished with you, sweetheart!”

Bobby would be okay in the garden for a little while longer.

[hereliesbitches--me]

Full name:  Toruga ( Winchester ) Nicknamed:  The Good Doctor, Father, Doc, Purple Pimp

Gender: Male Species: Demon Age: Immortal, appears to be in his late 30s, early 40s Sexuality: If its a shade of royal purple, its within that field of interest. Otherwise, he couldnt care less Nationality: Travels about, German based design. Dude is a demon imitating human design City or town of birth: The Enigma , The realm of Neikan and the Emotions Currently lives: Moves where there is work, primarily between Europe and the United States, where is assets are located Languages spoken: English, Spanish, German, Russian, Korean, Japanese, variations of the chinese dialect (fluent in Mandarin) , Hindi -- basically a workable understanding of many mainstream languages of varying countries. He’s old, he’s been around, and he is able to retain and learn easily Native language: prefers English and German Accent/diction: Speaks with refined annunciation with his English, but in a more relaxed state he has a slight German accent. Relationship Status: A widower still obsessed with his monsters and his creator but she just wont see him in such a way rip the man

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Height: 6’6 Weight: 160 pounds in human form, his dark form varies in weight Figure/build: Tall, stocky built. His muscle is primarily in his arms, legs, and chest, with a faintly noticeable gut (lowkey dad bod) Hair color: Black, peppered with grey strands Hairstyle: keeps it medium length but professional, Eye color:  A deep orange Skin/fur colour: His skin is a sandy beige complexion littered by dark discolored scars. Having tiger features, he has inverted colors with black fur and white stripes. Tattoos: Neikan’s branding is on his left inner forearm. Tends to stroke it absentmindedly  Scars/distinguishing marks: Toruga is littered by minor discolored scars all over his arms and chest, but his iconic scar is the 3 clawed slashing going down his face. Preferred style of clothing: In a button up collared shirt and black dress pants, coupled with his lap coat, He never really goes anywhere without his labcoat. He has no real sense of.. Dressing casual. If not his lab coat, he still wears a kind of trenchcoat in some way. And suspenders for a touch of extra class

HEALTH

Bad Habits: -Cant form real human connection - sees everything as object variables to dissect ,explore, and use for experimentation. - Regularly abuses the fuck out of the other negatives because they are inferior idiots - Sociopathic murderer (“for Science”). -Obsessed with Neikan, the demon who created him, and will turn on anyone in her defense, friend or foe. -Views any personal connection to a person like having a pet you're fond for, but nothing is above Neikan. -Stress smoker.

Addictions: -Sexually infatuated by the color purple, - Takes Sadistic pleasure in watching the bold break down, - Gets off on taking control and causing pain in the act of intimacy.

PERSONALITY

Personality: Toruga is a deceptive man by nature, a demon conjured up and hand made by Neikan herself, inspired by Josef Mengele which she had seen in the lives of one of her vessels. Being based on the mad doctor, Toruga himself is brilliant in the fields of genetics, biology, and the anatomy of anything he can get his hands on. Despite the basis, Toruga is simply a being that never was a child, thus has formed a persona that imitates human emotion and relations to get his way. He doesn't feel true connection, he doesn't feel empathy, sympathy, or guilt for what he does, as long as it feeds into the goal of appeasing his mistress and furthering her goals. Which makes lying and altering his persona to the liking of his associates quite easy. Toruga presents himself like a fatherly figure -- even tempered, soft but confidently spoken, and constantly utilizing praise and interest in another when he’s looking to make nice. He’s a master of manipulation and will not hesitate to research a person’s history, or gauge a weakness from conversation alone, and exploit it if it makes them more agreeable or himself more appealing.   He doesnt respond to insults or physical attacks,  not a single thing in the world bothers him, save for the failure of the negatives to complete a task, or if the insult is directed at his mistress. Or if it is impeding his work, because that would make him unappealing to Neikan. Only then will he react. And he will do so swiftly and violently to make his point known. He is not afraid of death threats, or to be beaten or dismembered or tortured, because of his inability to die (Thanks to his connection to Neikan. For as long as she lives, he can) He finds those sorts of threats mildly amusing, because he has been here for centuries, and he will continue to be well after humanity is nothing more than bones and Ash beneath their feet. His personality can swivel on a dime, but overall he is a fairly pleasant person to interact and talk with. He;s had plenty of time to master human expression.  Toruga also tends to be very physical when he shows interest, with subtle touches, unbroken eye contact, and closeness. Its simply the spider tossing the silk of his webs to capture the poor fly that has no idea the fate to come. He can be incredibly jealous and spiteful when it comes to what diverts the attention of his mistress

Strengths: Determined, Even tempered, charming personality. Incredibly intelligent and gifted with holding conversations. A great asset if you need a doctor to work on any sort of viral or bacterial bioweapon, or if ya need a guy that likes to alter and play with mortal genetics. His inability to stay permanently dead makes him quite the threat in theory, and with that demonic origin he does have supernatural strength compared to the average mortal. He has no real blood, just inky mass of dark matter that makes up his form and drips in imitation blood.

Weaknesses: Neikan. Divine weaponry and magic also hurt like a bitch and would require he directly return to neikan to get fixed up.

Fears/phobias: Failing Neikan to the point she abandons him or makes another negative to replace him.

Favourite color:

P U R P L E 

Did I say purple?  Very important to know. And any shade that compliments it.

Hobbies: - Kidnapping subjects indiscriminately based on their viability and their chance of being pursued, disfiguring them, wiping their memory, and then using them as test subjects for his viral bioweapon projects. - Making handmade clothing for his test subject children. He’s quite the skilled tailor. He especially loves dressing up his daughter before she ran away - Traveling about to meet with and work closely with assorted allies towards an end goal of toppling human society and shifting power - Taking out his anger and frustration on the negatives because they dont die - Talking to his dead husband he keeps perfectly preserved in a case down in his lab

Theme Song: - “Pet” by perfect circle - “Trust me” from the Devil’s Carnival

SKILLS

Talents/skills: - Tailoring clothing of all materials - Extensive knowledge of the medical field - skilled virologist and biochemist - Manipulative - Skillful liar

Education: Multiple lifetimes of trial and error through multiple dimensions and a variety of different levels of technology he’s explored with. Lacking any formal training, being an extension of his mistress means he also inherits the knowledge of her vessels. Coupled with his own experimentation and studied through multiple worlds.

Abilities: Being a demon made of dark matter means he’s endowed with an assortment of natural abilities, however unlike the more well known hell spawn demons, the negatives and their abilities from Neikan are typically only physical based.  Those abilities include: - Enhanced Strength and Endurance (built up after years of handling monsters, and the lack of human limitations/strains on the body) - Complete Regeneration (as long as the weapon is not enchanted or by divine means) - Minor shapeshifting, limited to his true forms. From human, to the black mass in the shape of a man, to a beastial tiger form - A photographic and auditory memory that retains just about any information he finds worthy of withholding. It also allows him to learn any language with ease after being exposed to it for a period of time

FAMILY, FRIENDS AND FOES

Personal history: Created around the time period of Pride’s((The Vessel) lifetime, 6 vessels prior to Nikki, Toruga was formed at first out of curious reasons and the need for a friend, but her intent with him became malicious shortly after her grief in the following life which split her soul into two halves. Left with nothing but malice and hatred for humanity, with the worst aspect of her being, Neikan utilized all her negativity to create a figure that would help speed up the process of ending the lives of the future vessels. Toruga was based on Josef Mengele, which Neikan had been exposed to as a child through the eyes of her second vessel, Hate. The demon was never a child, born as a perfectly capable adult to keep this young grieving woman company, it was at the start of his existence which paved the way to his obsessive love for his Creator. Toruga was her friend, her pet project that she left responsible with overseeing any of her new creations were given a job and set in order. While not active at first, Toruga observed humanity from the distance and learned the art of imitating them perfectly to blend in and manipulate what he understood. He studied their texts, he studied their culture, the array of species, their anatomies, their science and their technologies, absorbed it all until he could put it to use at the very end. Toruga is in love with his mistress, but with her fixation on her vengeance and the delicate heartbreak, she refuses to see him in such a way. Which, in turns, drives his unyielding determination to please her to make her see him. Coming to the existence of the last vessel, Nikki, things got complicated. Neikan assigned him a task to make a malleable beast that can infiltrate, a living machine to be the wolf in sheep's clothing, so when the last life became known, this being would be sent to kill it. Unfortunately for them, that bio weapon became the last life. Once inheriting Neikan and all the previous lives, any of the previous wiring he had instilled in the fetus were completely wiped away with the new presence of thought and free will -- the result, which would send Toruga on a wild chase to retrieve his experiment , all the way back to Earth. He spends years having to establish bases and connections on earth, all while scouring for his little project, taking well over 10 years before finally finding her. When he eventually does kidnap her and attempt to reset her mentally, Nikki retaliates and flees, leaving him with the iconic face scar he has now, but his project was now an unstable mess.  

Toruga is a man who juggles many projects at once. Despite a singular failure, he is always looking to make improvements, which would have eventually led to the creation of Malakaid as a failsafe to getting rid of Nikki, then immediately lost after yet another raid by Rosie and the authorities. But there is no stopping, there is always alternatives to getting what he wants. His web is vast, his determination and will unyielding. The world will fall to his mistress, one way or another. As of now, Toruga works closely with a variety of associates, primarily the Branches of Virtues because of their plentiful assets, and acts as a kind of apostle for Neikan to gain more souls willing to join their cause. His main project is a viral mutagen called the Uxoru virus, and helping work towards a modified super soldier serum made from Angel’s blood.

Parents names: Neikan Shadou (Sheila Lunarcrest)

Siblings: The other negatives, including John, Sebura, Kura, and Joku. By technicality, anyone made by Neikan is a kind of sibling.

Relationship with siblings: Toruga is the head honcho of the show, responsible for directing and punishing the others for their failures. Their stupidity and clumsiness prove to be incredibly irritating to him, and because they cant die he has no hesitation in brutally maiming and abusing them for it. They all have a bitterness, but a respectful fear towards him, and he knows it well. None of them are his equal, for he was the first, and he intends to keep it that way.

Partner/Spouse: -Vermont (Former husband, now deceased. Murdered mistakenly by Toruga himself after Vermont questioned Neikan’s intentions and plans. )

Children:

- Nikki Ai (His first experiment, artificially created and planted within a mother. She has no recollection of him as her creator, but rather this monster that hunts her down. She never came back as she was suppose to, and thus is a nuisance he needs dead)

- Malakaid (The second improvement to Nikki’s design , made from Nikki and Jacob’s dna, spliced with his own. Malakaid was stolen as a baby by Rosie and imprinted on her. Because of this, he will not go back to Toruga.)

( From his relationship with Vermont)

- Veronica Winchester (Eldest daughter, ran away at 12 years old.)

- Toby Winchester ( A young boy, still living with him. He drags him around on his work trips when he’s able to. Because he witnessed his birth parent murdered as a toddler, Toby is practically a skittish mute of a boy that fears his father but will not dare leave the way his sister did.)

Enemies:

Basically got beef with everyone bcuz he probably fucked over your loved ones at some point and just doesn't recall it. He primarily has enemies with Rosie( A very personal vendetta) and the Angel Project, the Divine Calvary, and any enemies of the Branches of Virtues. He doesn’t try to make enemies but if people are gonna try to stop him from completing his work because its “unethical” and “Inhumane” then a bitch gonna go into the cage with the rest of the subjects. But he’s a hard man to hate because as long as you are blissfully ignorant, he seems like such a pleasant man to keep company with.

Associates:

- The Branches of Virtue

- Nathair Elerdand

- Neikan and the Negatives

Affiliated verse:

Tag: :The Good Doctor (Toruga):

- Iniquitous Essence (The info above)

- Pokeverse : Toruga is a scientist of the Aether foundation , working on a secret specialized project for Lusamine, to create a world where human and pokemon are one -- as halflings. He experiments using genetic information gathered from the ultra beast data, along with splicing human dna with that of Pokemon, varying from adults to unborn fetuses. Everyone of which failed (dying in a matter of months, if born. Dying and resulting in a stillbirth. Or death induced by the Human body rejecting the intrusive genetics and triggering a shut down response) until finally there was Rosie. He studied her for the entirety of her childhood, a secret success he dare not report until certain she would not die like the rest, only to be lost in a fire (as far as he knows) aimed at silencing her rowdy father.

Much to his dismay, Toruga continues his research on human genetics, milking the foundations of its assets to feed his curiosity, with no real loylty to anyone but himself. But those skulligans are a promising bunch of nobodies to utilize for testing. He’s on the hunt to get his pet project back

[bytemycupcakes]

Changeling!Pabit AU

I said I was makin a post and I don’t care that nobody seems interested in him cause I love this little puppet boy and wont stop making aus for him.

Under a cut cause l o n g e

--

-Pabit only ever remembers Boris as his caretaker

-Not unusual for a changeling, really but it’s true

-Boris always says he just found Pabit on a walk. People usually take that as a joke, but he’s being serious.

-Ya see, Pabit wandered a bit too far from the fae as an infant, and Boris almost tripped over him on a walk in the woods.

-Boris picked up this strange little faerie baby, they made eye contact, and Pabits body shifted to resemble Boris.

-Well fuck I guess Boris has a kid now. The thought of calling the local orphanage doesn’t even cross his mind, it’s really just, “Ah fuck I found a kid.. Guess I’m a dad then”

-Really the fact that Pabit seemed to latch onto and form to look like Boris didn’t help with that train of thought.

-It didn’t take long at all for it to click in Boris’ head that Pabit wasn’t human. Obviously the whole shapeshifting thing, but this child was practically FERAL.

-In a non-babyproofed home, Pabit wreaked havoc. Being a master at hiding, scuttering Boris’ walls, and getting into everything, especially things that a baby shouldn’t be touching.

-It took ages for Boris to get the house at least somewhat Pabit-proofed.

-Pabit still manages to get into shit constantly, it’s like a talent.

-Just like Child!Au, Pabit is not Pabit’s actual name, it’s a name he gained later on because of how much he mimics Boris. (Whats his actual name? No idea)

-Pabit’s gender was literally assigned. He doesn’t have typical human anatomy, being completely androgynous, and thus Boris just... -stamps Pabit with “boy” sticker-

-By the time of the habitat, Pabit id’s as masc non-binary

-Boris considers the day he found Pabit as his birthday, not actually knowing how old he was when found, he counts up from that date, thus where Pabit being 15 comes from.

-Pabit is so tall both because he is fae, and because his body mimics Boris for its aging. So he’s just.. so fucking tall.

-Pabit has a shadow form, but didn’t seem to gain one until he first saw Boris do it when he was a toddler.

-For awhile he’d just randomly shift to it, until his subconscious realized it was primarity an anger-based “transformation”

-While Boris’ shadow form is just intense anger, Pabit’s becomes almost like a rage. As his body grows to adapt most of his non-human ability (strength and some subtle basic magic) into said form.

-Depending on the source of anger, Pabit can be incredibly destructive or eerily calm but a ticking bomb.

-Even Boris gets a bit scared when Pabit shifts to the form... One too many times he’s had his house demolished from this child- Or even being injured by the rage (Nothing serious, but more damage than an 8 y/o should be able to give a grown man)

-From a very young age Pabit always showed signs of adhd/autism. Though he doesn’t technically have these conditions because he’s fae, he’s found comfort in knowing he’s not just really weird, and if people ask about it, he and Boris will just say he has ADHD and/or is autistic*

*[Lil step back: This whole au exists because I heavily project my adhd onto Pabit. And my girlfriend, who is autistic, loves the changeling trope (We even call her one fairly often). So please don’t get hateful about this]

-Boris was always pretty open about Pabit not being human, never tried to hide it from him. He grew up as the outcast and couldn’t figure out why, he’s not gonna let his son feel that same lost and broken feeling.

-Pabit tends to speak in broken sentences. He can speak in full, but feels more comfortable doing more of a Hulk speech pattern. Thus he often talks in third person, and leaves out words he deems unneeded to understand the sentence.

-He’ll fall into proper speech when ranting or infodumping, though. Speaking much more like Boris, with proper and large words.

-He stutters over bigger words a lot, and sometimes gets frustrated and just uses “dumbed down” language in its place (this is how he’ll describe it)

-Pabit has a major hyperfixation of puppetry and puppet making, and a smaller one on musical theatre/acting.

-There is Pabit, and then an actual puppet Habit. It was a gift for fathers day, and though it’s not as pretty as the irl puppet, it’s still pretty damn good for a 15 y/o with claws. Boris keeps it on a shelf in his office, it’s Pabits favorite out of all the puppets he’s made.

-Pabit will nab it and, using Boris’ desk as a stage, will just talk to Boris as “Boris”.

-Boris finds this absolutely adorable, and goes along with it. He’s made several business deals with this puppet. Usually for teeth.

-Which yes, Pabit eats. (No Pabit au is complete if he doesn’t eat teeth, fight me.)

-Pabit stims. A lot. His most common stims are kicking, bouncing, or wiggling his legs, chewing (Yes teeth eating is a stim for him, but he mostly goes for more rubbery textures), hand flapping, and full body wiggling/bouncing. He’ll also play with his hair, but it’s not as common.

-Pabit will occasionally repeat things, usually funny things he hears while giggling.

-Pabit’s hair is so stupidly thicc and curly that no stylist in town will deal with it.

-Boris has learned to cut hair, which comes in handy more often than you’d expect in a house of two very long-haired people.

-aka: Pabits hair grows so fucking fast, its ridiculous.

-His hair sticks together so much that it almost acts like one solid pillow-like mass. No hairtie can contain it. (If it’s tied back, it’s usually an actual string litterally tied around his hair)

-Pabits ears can emote, they don’t move much, but it’s noticeable. They wiggle when he gets really heccin happy.

-Pabit’s pupils alwas seem to be slitted, but at general shock (among other various things) his iris’ will slit aswell, leaving Pabit with a line in some massive sclara’s.

-Pabit has gotten very good at sewing thanks to his love of puppet making. This becomes very useful since he usually has to tailor his clothes slightly.

-In the habitat proper, Pabit is surprisingly popular with all the kids. Most notably Tim Tam and Trevor.

-He knew Trevor (And of Nat) before the habitat. He and Trevor are classmates while Nat is in the class behind them.

-Trevor didn’t really acknowledge Pabit’s existence until he bit a bully and seemed to break skin effortlessly??? hmmmmmmmm.

-Thus Trevor started theorizing, nothing in depth, but the kid was on his radar.

-Trevor was really surprised to find Pabit in the habitat, and even more surprised when Pabit told him Boris is his dad.

-The most these two ever talked before the habitat was a single “peer review” assignment, but in the habitat they start talking a lot more cause they’re the oldest kids, know eachother a bit, and both need to infodump like crazy.

-It takes a while for Trevor to get used to Pabits broken speech, but he eventually finds himself mimicing it occasionally. and Pabit will mimic him as well (adhd solidarity, boys)

-Pabit and Tim Tam can communicate non-verbally with no trouble at all. Thus this is used to wreak so much havoc on habititians since they’re both feral little goblins.

-It doesn’t help that Pabit has special access to “employees only” areas since he’s Boris’ son.

-Trevor and Pabit have gone on massive theory rants about random musicals while Nat’s in the room and she just watches these two in confused awe because of all the little details they’ll pull out to support these wild theories.

-Nat seriously has no idea how these two can just. keep. going. It’s been three hours at least let her have a snack!

-Pabit has allowed Trevor to ask so many weird questions about him because Pabit is also very curious about what exactly he is.

-Boris isn’t going to question why Trevor was poking at Pabit’s ribcage with a pen and just let boys be boys.

-Nat supplies Trevor with books on mythical beings she steals from Trencils room.

-Even with the three of them mostly working together, they cant figure out exactly what Pabit is.

-Until they’re all going over it in the boiler room one day. Where Wallus can hear them.

-YES ONCE AGAIN WALLUS IS NOT HUMAN! AGAIN, FIGHT ME.

-Did three children just lure out the frightened janitor cause they’re describing changelings and Wallus, a fae, knows about these kinda things? Yes. Yes they did.

-Wallus really never got a good look at Pabit before he took refuge in the wall, Pabit never got too involved in his work, or his talks with Boris. So Wallus isn’t too surprised that he missed it.

-It takes a bit of courage building from Wallus and Pabit litterally dragging him to Boris’ office before Wallus talks to Boris about how he aquired Pabit.

-Lots of details short: Wallus actually remembers when Pabit went missing which is pretty neat.

-Boris was almost worried he’d lose Pabit to his birth parents... Until Wallus says they didn’t really worry too much cause he was supposed to be put into someones life anyway. Was only mildly concerning since the fae couldn’t keep an eye on him.

-Pabit barely processes any of this information. Same with nearly all fae information Wallus tells him.

-Its not that he doesn’t like it or anything, he just doesn’t really care about the details. He got a name for what he is and why he acts like he does, and now he’s done. Mission complete.

[I wanna type more but my adhd is being MEAN so I’ll stop here for now. Feel free to send me asks about this au tho cause I love it]

EDIT:

-One last thing: Pabit loves the night. He adores the moon. He loves sitting on the roof past bedtime just to stare at the sky

[lokiondisneyplus]

Today I left the house wearing a face mask for the first time.

I had woken up to the sound of heavy rain, which is always surreal in Los Angeles, and when I look out of the window to the hauntingly dehumanising sight of bandana-clad dog walkers, an eerie weight settles as I remember: this is our reality now.

I’m standing in the supermarket queue, a line dotted by crosses taped on the floor of the underground car park to signify our designated 6ft distance. Easily 50 people long and snaking around the perimeter of the building, I make my way to the last available X-marks-the-spot and join the other masked Bandits. I haven’t food shopped for over a week and am in need of supplies.

There is an obnoxiously loud man two crosses ahead of me ranting into his phone with such a high energy, the surrounding Bandits have allowed an extended social distance of a cross on either side of him. I sigh, remembering I’ve left my headphones at home, so am unable to tune him out, I wait and exhale, wondering how I am going to get used to the claustrophobic sensation of hot air and fabric condensing on my face.

Loud Phone Man is not wearing a mask and it's clear we’ve passed the tipping point of mild judgement, at least here in LA, where Bandits exchange a raised eyebrow, (about the only non-verbal Bandit communication available) which somehow magnifies the annoyance of this shopper - not only loud, but breathing indiscriminately all over us in this confined space… what does he think this is? Last week??

It’s Monday on #Week4 of Covid-19 lockdown in La La Land and as I shuffle to the next X I reflect on the journey so far.

After a whirlwind press tour to promote the release of Misbehaviour in UK cinemas (sadly cinemas were shuttered just days after the film's theatrical release – but it's available to watch online at home from April 15th!) I returned to work in Atlanta for Loki, the Marvel limited series for Disney Plus I’ve been working on, so am on set when I get the news that we are going on hiatus as a precaution due to the accelerating coronavirus, initially for one week. Thinking it would be longer, but still unsure at that point, I book a flight to LA to sit things out there for the time being. The next day Trump imposes a travel ban on travelling in or out of the US for 30 days, and with my visa situation and the pace at which everything is moving, it feels risky to fly to the UK in case I cannot get back into the country when filming recommences, whenever that will be.

So, with my housemate and her dog for company, we embark on social distancing, self-isolation and Lady Macbeth-level hand-washing.

Managing a constant low-level anxiety about my parents and loved ones, and friends in New York, London, Johannesburg and all over the world, I become consumed by the news, glued to the BBC website and KCRW talk radio for the latest figures. Like families gathered around “the wireless” in wartime, everything is unfolding so rapidly and the news, never this dramatic in my lifetime, takes on disaster-movie proportions.

FaceTime and WhatsApp become my lifelines as the reality of the pandemic is tinged with a weird detachment… a numbness I later realise was a form of shock that lasts for nearly two weeks and puts me into a hyper-focused state as I race to keep up, stay informed and learn how to adapt to this new rhythm.

I am of course aware that I am so privileged to be safe and personally unaffected thus far, but grasping the truth from what is overblown, and fact from politics and propaganda, give everything an out-of-body zero gravity quality; a new normal we are all united in.

Things are kicking off in the food line as my attention is caught by an exasperated Valley Girl three Xs ahead who finally explodes at Loud Phone Man, “ OH MY GAAAAD, USE YOUR INSIDE VOICE, CANT YOU SEEEEE EVERYONE IS LOOKING AT YOU CAUSE YOU’RE TALKING SO LOUD… WE ALL HAVE TO STAND HERE, OHMYGAAAD!” As she stomps her Ugged feet to the next X the security guard and smiling store employee (no mask) approach and I can feel a repressed inside-voice-cheer emanate from the rest of the line in applause.

The Bandit Couple ahead of me raise another eyebrow in solidarity and Female Bandit begins to capture a video of Loud Phone Man on her iPhone. The air gets thin, the energy tightens, “Hey Man,” Smiling Store Employee intercepts, Security guard flanking, “You wanna keep it down a bit, people are stressed, y’know? Thanks Man.” Valley Girl scowls, Bandit couple exchange glances, while still filming, Loud Phone Man defends, “I WASN’T EVEN TALKING THAT LOUUUUUD!!!” (Collective Bandit eyeroll) “YESSSSS YOU WERE!!!” Hisses Valley Girl, “Yeah Man, sorry you were,” Store Employee placates. taking the referee stance. I notice Loud Phone Man is wearing flip-flops, on a rainy day. He continues his conversation into his device, phone held to his lips, like a dictaphone, barely any quieter. “We have to be prepared…”

I sigh and feel warm breath on my cheeks. Mouth drying I look at my phone for escape and see that Boris Johnson has been admitted into intensive care for persistent and worsening Covid-19 symptoms. I suddenly feel very far from home and very sad.

I remember the things I’ve been doing to keep grounded and my spirits up. One of the benefits of turning out old cupboards was rediscovering my long dormant art materials. Painting, such an absorbing and transporting activity for me in childhood, was once something I considered doing instead of acting, but found it a little socially isolating - so acting won because it felt more collaborative. Now, of course, painting in isolation is perfect and becomes the most comforting of pastimes and a creative channel as I make images of my family and feel like I am spending time with them.

Understanding how superfluous actors are in a crisis such as this, I come to terms with the fact that staying at home, as passive as it may seem, is my contribution for now. Having the luxury of not having to home-school any children and knowing my work is pretty much on pause until social distancing recedes, I try to reframe this time as a chance to rest and refill the creative well. I read novels for pleasure, something I rarely find time for beyond work-related reads. I take my first Zoom yoga class (alexdawsonyoga.com), I join a 21-day online meditation experience (chopracentermediation.com), I take local hikes for fresh air and make first ever batches of banana bread and chicken soup. I even buy a mini trampoline online which, after a mildly challenging self-assembly, I’ve been sweating it out on to streamed classes online (lekfit.com) with a friend in Toronto, followed by accountability FaceTime coffee dates to virtually high five!

By the end of week two, the adrenalin crash truly hits and I’m exhausted from the constant rhythm shifting, news consumption and uncertainty. I’m an eternal optimist and good at self-motivating, but even when you’re Keeping Calm and Carrying on, you need to crash at some point. I nearly cry when I get my mum an Ocado food delivery slot - nothing has been available for weeks - and the “what ifs” that I have been keeping at bay with all my other activities release with relief and gratitude.

That’s when I discover Brené Brown’s new podcast Unlocking Us and find such solace in her calm and thoroughly researched words and conversations. Since her TED talk fame as a charismatic shame and vulnerability researcher, I’ve read all of her books and there is always something practical and nourishing in her work, told with humour and in a deeply relatable way - which I’ve found comfort in while in the midst of folding laundry, cleaning the bath or chopping vegetables.

Back in the food line and things are moving; the tension of the Loud Phone Man Vs Valley Girl dispute still simmers but everyone relaxes as they get closer to the front-door finish line. Smiling Store Employee does his speech on the new system: no reusable bags allowed, sanitised trollies and a one-way system in the aisles inside marked by arrows on the floor, to minimise contact with other customers. It all feels so surreal and regimented, but the Bandits, already drained from the 30-minute wait, constant Loud Phone Man soundtrack, near car park fight and everything else they’re all adjusting to, nod wearily behind their moist makeshift masks. It’s a bizarre sight.

Still chatting, Loud Phone Man makes it in and there’s a collective “phew” eye-contact exchanged between Smiling Store Employee and the remaining Bandits. Then his smile drops and crinkles for a second. “Yeah, he’s been in every day this week. It’s kinda sad. There’s no one on the phone.” The Bandits' brows knot quizzically. “Yeah, I think he has mental health issues, he just talks but the phone’s not on and he has no ear pieces, he just talks into it… 'They’re coming, we have to be prepared.'… I don’t know what to do.”

The reality breaks my heart. It seems to highlight the collective insanity we’ve all been processing and in that moment I just feel so frustrated at the state of the world and how this pandemic has exposed so many cracks in our society - from mental health to healthcare to privilege and poverty, everything just feels so raw.

I try to look for the silver linings and, among all the fear and anxiety and loss, I’ve been so inspired by human resilience, adaptability and creativity. I’m hopeful this great pandemic leveller will bring a new era of authenticity. An opportunity to shift mentality from Me to We.

Week three in self-isolation felt almost normal, which feels weird to admit. I’m getting lots of sleep and take regular meditative baths, which I’ve renamed Home Spa. I’ve found ways to safely contribute in my local community. When the shelves were bare from panic buying, I chatted with the manager of our local grocery store, who seemed so overwhelmed, so my housemate and I volunteered to stack shelves after hours. Although not exactly the front lines, we have fun and it feels good to give something back in our small way.

We of course negotiated to be paid in baked beans and toilet paper.

[starker-stories]

An Accord (WIS), Chapter 6

I’ll be re-creating my individual chapter posts for An Accord over here on the blog that replaces starkerstories. Until I hit the current chapter, I’ll be posting daily. They’ll have links to both tumblr and AO3 chapter links. I’m sorry if that bothers people who’ve seen this all before in the tag. I’m content to leave all my other fic as AO3 only, but this is my current favorite child, so I’m spoiling it rotten.

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Hopefully every Friday. More chapters may appear sooner if the writing is going well. Because I have 0 self-control.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: Sitting around watching movies caused habits to set in. Peter had two spots. On the other end of the sofa or curled up right next to Tony’s side. Bucky’s feet were in Peter’s first spot. Bucky himself was in Peter’s second. And his head was in Tony’s. ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 6: A little head amongst friends

Peter’s damn habit of sitting on a sofa, doing nothing but staring at a screen, had become Tony’s method of taking a brain break from the workshop.

Bucky was stretched out on the sofa, rolled on his side facing the back, sleeping with his head where Tony’s spot to sit was. There were chairs. But the viewing angle wasn’t optimized for them. Sitting around watching movies caused habits to set in. Peter had two spots. On the other end of the sofa or curled up right next to Tony’s side. Bucky’s feet were in Peter’s first spot. Bucky himself was in Peter’s second. And his head was in Tony’s.

Tony lightly touched Bucky’s shoulder, not sure if he could feel the touch on the metal. He did and shifted slightly. Tony reached under Bucky’s head and slipped himself onto the seat, settling Bucky down onto his lap. He started the next thing on his playlist and turned the volume low.

It was a mildly interesting, if obvious, mystery. The actors were good, the writing well crafted, and it held Tony’s attention better than most things. He didn’t realize it when his fingers started carding through Bucky’s hair, sliding through the soft strands, slowly twisting and releasing them, massaging his scalp. Peter sometimes napped like this. It was a body response to the pressure of a head in his lap and soft hair lying there available for his hand to play with.

Bucky woke and shifted slightly in Tony’s lap, seeking out more of his soothing hair-playing. He sighed and moaned softly.

“Feel good, pretty?” Tony asked, still absorbed in watching the villain skillfully evade discovery, the actor striking the perfect balance of emotion needed for the deception.

“Mmm,” Bucky moaned his assent. “Always liked having my hair played with.”

Tony chuckled softly. “Always hated having my hair played with.”

They stayed like that through the second act. There was a certain response to having a warm body against him, a head curled up on his lap, soft hair teasing at his fingers. It was a slow response that crept up on Tony. Even as his jeans became tight, it was hardly noticed.

It was noticed by the person in his lap. Bucky nuzzled his face against the tight denim. Tony ignored the touch but his fingers’ massaging his scalp became firmer. A long, groaning moan came from Bucky as he nuzzled with more deliberateness. His mouth opened and his lips dragged across Tony’s tightly contained erection. Tony wasn’t paying attention, but neither was he stopping him.

On seeing it, people always expected his metal hand to be clumsy and robotic. His fingers were very carefully jointed and moved with as much skill, if not more, than the ones he had that were made of flesh. They were certainly deft enough to gently unbutton the top of Tony’s jeans, to find the zipper tab and lower it all the way down. Then spread the fly open to show that Tony wasn’t wearing anything underneath his pants.

Bucky brought his face close again and rubbed it against the swell of Tony’s shaft that was revealed in his open fly. As before when he was nuzzling against cloth, he opened his mouth and dragged his lips wetly. He felt Tony relax. The man leaned back on the sofa and let his head loll on the back as he looked up at the ceiling through closed eyes. His ass slid forward on the seat, canting his crotch invitingly upward.

There was a very tiny sound of surprise when Bucky used his metal hand to free Tony’s cock and balls from his pants. Otherwise, Tony was silent. Even when Bucky’s mouth closed around the head and his tongue circled around the ridge. The only sign that Tony felt what Bucky was doing, was his slower, heavier breaths.

Bucky slid down on his shaft until the head of Tony’s cock pressed against the back of his mouth. He repeated the simple move a few times before he backed off completely and pressed sucking, dragging, tongue-flicking kisses down the underside. Tony’s cock rested across Bucky’s face as he sucked at the skin of the man’s balls, causing them to move and shift. Bucky sucked one into his mouth and let his tongue dance. Tony’s heavy breaths stopped and held, then with a catch, resumed again when Bucky repeated the same to Tony’s other one. As he sucked, he rubbed his face against the base of Tony’s cock.

He settled his metal hand lightly across the shaft that throbbed on his cheek. Tony gasped and there was a moan. Bucky didn’t move his hand, he just held Tony’s cock more firmly against his face while he sucked at Tony’s balls. He felt Tony’s thighs tense, then the tension released and he sank into the sofa cushions. He just seemed to be enjoying the sensations.

Bucky returned his attentions to Tony’s cock, running his tongue up his shaft with pressure, licking around it while he kept his tongue wet and the glide smooth. Bucky’s sigh carried an appreciative groan at Tony’s length and girth as he took his time moving up it before closing his lips over the head, tasting precome on his tongue. Tony’s regular, solid, heavy breaths returned.

And his hand went to the back of Bucky’s head. Not pressing or demanding or guiding, just his fingers threading through Bucky’s long hair, fingertips occasionally firmly scraping over his scalp.

He took Tony into the back of his mouth again and moaned around him at the way it felt to have his hair simply played with and not pulled. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut and a slow writhe worked its way down his body, settling into a slow rocking of his hips. As Bucky bobbed his head on his cock, Tony dropped his arm from the back of the sofa and pressed his palm over the swell of Bucky’s cock, trapped in his pants. Bucky rocked more deliberately against it and the pressure of Tony’s palm increased, giving him something to frot against.

Bucky slid up along the sofa, raising his body over Tony’s leg, balancing on his elbow, pressed on the cushion between the man’s legs. The change in angle let him more expertly bring Tony into his mouth and work his tongue at the same time.

Tony still gave nothing back but his heavy breaths. Bucky strained to find any reaction to what he was doing, hidden in them. Listening for them, he heard them. Soft grunts when his tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. Breaths held too long whenever Tony was pressed in as far as Bucky was taking him. Released with what sounded almost like frustration when Bucky pulled off and took Tony in no further. And while his hand did nothing to force him, Tony’s fingers responded as they tangled in his hair. Once Bucky was looking for them, he realized that Tony was awash in reaction. And he chased each one.

There was one thing that neither of them was thinking about. The thought tickled at the back of Bucky’s mind, but he pushed it aside in favor of taking Tony into his throat.

Tony groaned loudly enough to hear, and while his hand didn’t push down, his hips thrust up. Bucky could’ve easily pulled back. Something told him that Tony was deliberately leaving him the choice. He chose to swallow harder and pull Tony in deeper.

Bucky wasn’t just pressing his cock against Tony’s palm. He was grinding, circling, thrusting, and moaning around Tony’s cock in his mouth. He took Tony in deeper each time. As he pulled back for breath, his tongue swirled around the man’s shaft, then sought out the places that made his breath catch. Bucky took him down further. Further each time until his face was pressed against Tony’s groin. He shifted his elbow that was between Tony’s legs so that his hand could cup and roll the man’s balls as he sucked. Tony’s reactions were still subtle, but the fingers cupped around Bucky’s cock and began jerking him off in his pants.

Bucky came while Tony was all the way down his throat. His groan rumbled around the man and he held him deep as long as he could before needing to breathe. Tony moved his arm to drape along the sofa back again. His fingers stopped massaging Bucky’s head and his hand rested on the arm of the sofa.

Bucky shifted positions again slightly and started sucking Tony’s cock with an aim to making him come. Tony liked what his tongue did, but the thing that drove him wild — if any reaction he gave could be called ‘wild’ — was when he was buried as deep in Bucky’s throat as Bucky wanted to take him. When Bucky’s face was pressed against Tony, breathing in his scent, listening for the groaning catch in his breaths, he swallowed hard, his throat massaging Tony’s cock. He held him there as long as he could before he pulled off for a breath, taking no time for finesse before swallowing him straight back down in one fluid motion, to begin the cycle again.

Finally, after Bucky took a breath, Tony’s arm dropped to cup Bucky’s metal shoulder. Through it, he felt Tony’s grip tighten. His hips rose, seeking more depth even though Bucky’s face was ground against him. Tony came down Bucky’s throat.

Bucky held him there, swallowing as long as he could, before sliding off and letting Tony fill his open mouth with the rest of his load. Bucky looked up as he swallowed, hoping to catch Tony’s eye, to get some recognition of what they’d just done. But Tony’s head was leaned all the way back and he still stared, through closed eyelids, straight up at the ceiling. His breath was a fast, caught, and heavy panting. The tension in his body released and he settled solidly into the sofa cushions. Tony moved his hand off of Bucky’s shoulder and his arm back onto the sofa back again, leaving him sprawled out and touching Bucky nowhere.

Bucky closed his lips around the shaft of Tony’s softening cock. He held the man gently in the wet warmth, doing nothing but keeping his mouth open, occasionally taking more of Tony into it as his cock softened more. Eventually he had the entirety of Tony’s cock sitting heavily on his tongue. He didn’t move away until Tony’s breathing was scarcely able to be heard.

He tucked Tony back into his jeans, carefully zipped them up and refastened the button. Bucky rolled onto his other side, facing outward, setting only his head in Tony’s lap. They watched the end of the movie and Tony started the next thing on his playlist. After the intro rolled and the story started developing, Tony’s fingers began playing with Bucky’s hair again.

About a third of the way through the movie, Tony moved Bucky’s head, got up, and went back downstairs to work. Neither of them said a word.

~~~~~

“If I have to stare at one more equation,” Peter sighed, clicking on the TV, and coming around the sofa.

He instantly turned the volume down when he saw Bucky stretched out on the sofa, sleeping, facing the back of it. But if Tony was there, he never got to watch anything but Episodes 4 through 7. The prequels and the rest of the sequel trilogy just pissed him off. And Peter wanted to watch Revenge of the Sith. Bucky’s feet were in Peter’s usual spot, but his head was in Tony’s. Peter gently lifted Bucky’s head — the man slept through it — and rested it on his lap.

When Count Dooku arrived on screen, Peter started running his hand through Bucky’s hair. Before Anakin started acting like an ass, Bucky made a contented sound in his throat.

“I like your hair,” Peter said, smiling down when Bucky looked up.

Bucky turned his face back. “I like your fingers in my hair.”

Peter chuckled quietly. “So does Tony.”

Bucky settled back into Peter’s lap, mulling the conflicting information he now had. His conclusion doesn’t surprise him. He’s certain that if asked, Tony would swear that he had absolutely no reaction at all to what he and Bucky did. When of course, he had hundreds of them. What Tony said about himself, and what that self actually was — when divorced from his image — were very different things. But then who would’ve thought that Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, liked having his hair played with?

Apparently Peter wasn’t the only one who sometimes fell asleep in a lap. From Peter’s reaction, Tony must’ve fallen asleep in his lap a time or two, with certain responses brought from that occurrence.

Peter actually liked the prequels. He once committed the sacrilege of saying that Revenge of the Sith was the best movie of all nine. Even though he’d seen it probably approaching a hundred times — though not nearly often enough on Tony’s ridiculously huge, ridiculously high definition living room TV — it never failed to hold his attention.

That’s what he would say if asked why he didn’t object when he felt Bucky nuzzling at his cock through his jeans. As to why he got hard from it; he was so involved in the movie that he didn’t realize that it wasn’t Tony doing what he often did when truly bored with what Peter was watching. The prequels, if Peter insisted on making Tony sit through them and insisted he shut up during it, bored him. So.

Of course his excuse wore thin if he had to explain why he didn’t object when he watched Bucky’s very cool-looking metal fingers working his jeans open. Or when he watched them close around his cock, taking it out of his fly. Or when Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes met his as he closed his mouth around the head of Peter’s cock.

“Bucky,” he said, giving a half-hearted objection.

Bucky pulled off and grinned. “What’s a little head amongst friends.” He took Peter into his mouth again.

“I doubt Tony will see it that way.” Peter eased back into the sofa, away from Bucky’s deliciously warm, wet mouth.

Bucky’s eyebrow raised and he gave a little shrug. Peter’s eyes went wide.

“Like I said,” Bucky answered, implying his last statement again. “Don’t be mad at him. It wasn’t anything.”

“It was his cock in your mouth.”

Bucky moved forward and his tongue teased the tip of Peter’s still-hard cock. “And it was yours in mine. It doesn’t mean anything more than what it is.” He reached up and ran a metal finger down the length of Peter’s arm. “I like it when you play with my hair.” He paused. “I like it when he plays with my hair.” He licked at the head of Peter’s cock, smiled and shrugged. “I like sucking cock.” His finger ran along Peter’s jawline. “I like the both of you.”

“Did you convince him like that?” Peter asked.

“Nah. He just kinda pretended that nothing was happening while he came down my throat.” Bucky chuckled.

Peter rolled his eyes. “You convinced him.” Peter started gently threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair again and Bucky started sucking his cock again. “He calls you ‘pretty’,” Peter said. His words were slightly slurred, his breath caught after his sentence, but they were said without jealousy. Tony’s cock might’ve wandered… in the same place his was wandering… but he knew what they had together.

Bucky took Peter into the back of his mouth a few more times before pulling off. “He’s in love with you. That makes what we did… what we’re doing… different.”

Peter nodded, but then moaned with surprise when Bucky took one of his balls into his mouth. Bucky did the same things to Peter as he did to Tony. Including holding Peter's cock against his cheek with his metal hand.

“Oh fuck,” Peter groaned. “Fuck.” His cock twitched and throbbed under Bucky’s palm. “That’s… Fuck.” He realized what he was doing and he blushed bright red. “Sorry. I… um… I’ve got a bit of a kink for the armor.

Bucky tried not to laugh. He failed. Peter’s balls slipped out of his mouth and he buried his face against them, stifling the sound until he got himself under control.

Knowing Peter’s kink now, Bucky circled the boy’s shaft with his hand. He mouthed at the underside, working his way to the head, teasing at the slit with his tongue. He looked up at Peter, his eyes twinkling. “I bet he loves that kink.”

Peter blushed again. “Yeah.” He ran his fingers down Bucky’s arm, from his shoulder to his hand wrapped around him. “But the armor can’t feel this.” He repeated the movement, a little firmer.

Bucky shuddered and took Peter’s cock back into his mouth. Peter was entirely unreserved in his responses. He moaned, he moved, his fingers tangled hard in Bucky’s hair. Peter’s other hand clutched at Bucky’s arm when it was too good, when it was building, the fingers of that hand traced along the joints’ lines, along the flat panels, over the curving shape.

Bucky moaned around Peter, unable to get over the fact that someone wanted to touch him there. He was getting close faster than he had with Tony, but he needed more. He took Peter’s wrist in his hand and brought it to rest over the swell of his cock in his pants.

“Oh!” Peter said. His fingers in Bucky’s hair guided him to look up. “Can I?” His hand found the button on Bucky’s jeans.

“Yes please,” Bucky said thickly, sliding off of Peter’s cock just long enough to answer before beginning a slow tease of his tongue along his shaft.

Peter unfastened all the buttons and took Bucky’s cock out of his pants. “You’re big,” he said, wrapping his hand around it and began stroking its length.

Bucky looked up, waited to catch Peter’s eye, smiled, and said, “Tony’s bigger.”

Peter blushed and giggled. “Yeah. He is.”

They both set to making each other come. Peter, being a teenager, came first. But Peter, having learned how to have sex from Tony, didn’t stop what his hand was doing until Bucky came as well.

There was a towel — and lube, Bucky noted — in the drawer of the end table. Peter cleaned his hand and them both off. They fastened their pants and Bucky turned over in Peter’s lap, looking at the screen.