#give us something original - something you do know

[fatherbrat]

“what’d you do today while i was gone, hm?” suguru asks.

is he fucking serious?

even if you wanted to answer, you can’t. your mind is gone, any remnants of conscious thought leaving you the minute suguru bottomed out. all you can think about is the feeling of his cock pumping in and out your pussy. you think you might be drooling, and you’re sure he’s smiling down at you—the same way he always does when he knows he’s fucking you dumb—but you can’t bother to confirm that either, not with the way your eyes are glazed over, making everything you see look as fuzzy as your mind feels.

suddenly, he pulls out. you blink a couple times to clear up your vision, pussy clenching around the air.

“i asked you a question,” he says. his voice is in total contrast to his face. his expression is almost playful, but the words sound anything but.

“wh-what?” you’re scrambling to try and remember what question you’re supposed to be answering, but all you can think about is how much you need him to be buried inside of you again.

there’s mirth swimming in suguru’s eyes when you meet them. you frown, frustrated with how much he’s enjoying seeing you like this—completely and thoroughly fucked out.

his hand snakes down towards your clit, brushing against it with his knuckles. it makes your hips jerk, the consequence of already being overly sensitive from two previous orgasms.

“you wanna come?” he asks, abandoning his original question and slipping a single finger inside you. “again?”

it’s cruel. him asking you questions he already knows the answers to. expecting responses when he knows you can barely form a word, let alone a full sentence. teasing you with his middle finger while fully aware of how you ache for his cock.

regardless, you nod. frantic.

suguru only laughs, thumbing your clit leisurely. a shudder vibrates your whole body. “words, baby. use your words,” he taunts.

all you can manage is a shaky “please” as you writhe under his touch. he tuts, pushing your hips down into the mattress to keep you from moving. it’s maddening how vexed he looks when he’s the one who did this to you, denying your orgasm to satisfy his own sadistic whims. suguru catches the mean curl of your upper lip, your body communicating your irritation even when you can’t.

the smile he gives you is callous. “please what?”

your annoyance cuts through the brain fog enough for you to respond coherently. “please let me cum.”

suguru isn’t a fan of the exasperation in your voice, but he chooses to ignore it, murmuring a sweet “good girl” as he plunges his cock into you in one swift movement.

a string of curses falls from your lips, eyes watering as he thrusts at a steady tempo. he says something about your dirty mouth, but you hardly hear it over the hot, coiling feeling in your gut and the static sensation in your limbs.

it doesn’t take long for you to climax again, blissful and babbling again as your cunt flutters around suguru. he groans, not waiting for you to come down before pulling out for the final time.

he tugs your head up so he can tap the flushed tip of his cock on your bottom lip. the way you open your mouth is automatic, as if he pressed a button—a testament to how well trained you are.

you’re still shivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm when he comes in your mouth. it isn’t until after you’ve swallowed down his seed and he’s pressed a tender kiss to your lips that you come out of your cockdrunk daze.

when your vision refocuses, suguru looks smug. “you wanna tell me how your day went now?”

[wemblingfool]

A live action remake has to give us something the original does not. It has to fill some sort of void.

First and foremost, it has to be as interesting as the original. It also has to be a world that would be a spectacle when brought to life, if done justice.

Basically, it needs to be more visually engaging than the original was, and that is a tall order that none of the disney stuff has managed.

Second, if it can't do that, then it should present a new perspective on the story. Either fixing one or more of the original's flaws, or going in a (logical) new direction.

The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast all had the potential to hit that first mark, and all three failed.

Maleficent, which kickstarted this trend, was a massive success because it knocked that second mark out of the park. Reframing the entire story from her perspective, is what sold the film and allowed them to breathe new life into the story.

There is a place for live action remakes. Unfortunately, Disney took all the wrong lessons from Maleficent's success.

You wanna know a big budget live action "remake" that really delivered on the visuals? Regardless of whether or not the script was good, The Flintstones is proof you can take an animated fantasy world and successfully bring it to life.

Moana is getting so much drag for being "pointless," but I'd argue otherwise. It's very important in that it fills a void. There is such a lack of representation for Polynesian stories, that even a remake of a movie that's only a few years old is a rainstorm in a drought. I won't say it's not good until it's actually out.

Since we keep getting "live action" CGI remakes of already perfectly adequate animated movies, and because people need to understand that animation is a medium and not a genre, I have prepared this primer about the importance of Visual Language for Conveying Information.

Can you tell what the personalities of these two mice are?

Can you tell now?

Which of these two tigers feels safer to be around?

Which of these three dogs is the funniest one?

If you can answer these questions, then you already have experience with the idea of visual language and stylistic choices being used to impart narrative meaning. If you can understand why these choices were made to impart meaning, then you can understand why animation is a medium for telling stories that has its own inherent value, and is not merely a "placeholder" for the eventual implementation of photorealistic presentation (aka "Live Action" CGI). Animation does not need to be "corrected" or "legitimized" by remaking it into the most representational simulation of observable reality.

[dreamsteddie]

AITA Steddie Au Part Three

Part Two

Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓

------

Eddie takes Steve on that second date.

And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.

Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.

Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.

Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.

------

"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.

He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.

"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.

Gareth doesn't say anything.

The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.

He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.

So why this? Why now?

"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.

Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."

With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.

"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.

Eddie kept walking.

-------

That was over four weeks ago.

He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.

In other news.

Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.

"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.

"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.

"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.

But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.

Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.

"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.

"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."

Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.

"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.

Silence.

Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.

Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"

And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.

"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.

"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.

"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.

It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.

Eddie squeezes his hand back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.

Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.

"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.

"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.

"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.

Gotcha.

Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.

Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.

Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.

Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.

Tag List

@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow @travelingtwentysomething @shoujo-wizard @stripey82 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @cr0w-culture @notaqueenakhaleesi @bookworm0690 @r0seprincess @estrellami-1 @little-annie @dreamercec @tinyplanet95 @rawrx3ky-txt @bexinator3000 @justalittledrainbamage @scarletyeager @themoonagainstmers @yesdangerpls @mydysfunctionallife @maverickricky @silentiumdelirium @i-amthepizzaman @samsoble @foolishness-and-confusion @dragonmama76 @gregre369 @thewickedkat @lexr86 @martinskis-lydias

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations~ 40

Scorpio moons take really long to talk about themselves and their past. Especially when getting to know someone they are romantically interested in (I notice this more with the men) it’ll be years until you really start to know them. This is why many can view them as toxic.. but once you wait out their little game they are loyal to you for life.

Taurus moons would rather pretend they are happy and content than ask for help. This is why they are viewed as emotional stable (but really they’re just repressing a lot:( it’s okay to be not okay♥️)

Aries Venus people get turned on from arguing (especially if paired with a Scorpio Mars)

Fire mercuries were yelled at a lot for talking too loud

Moon in Leo’s and be SO toxic when insecure. Cockiness to the extreme.

Every Leo sun I meet I see attract so many people to them. They really are such magnetic people their energy gives people life (like the sun). As dramatic as they are their confidence is so refreshing & admiring to be around. Their confidence gives others confidence as well.

Virgo suns Leo Venus women smell soooo good usually. Every time I walked someone to smelled like heaven they had this combo.

Aquarius sun tend to mold into their environment. Their personality can become easily influenced by those around them. This is why it’s important for them to surround themselves around positive influences. (Their friend group can usually change them for the better or worse)

Mars in Aquarius folks love things that are out of the ordinary whether it be clothes, sex, people, friends ect. Anything that confuses them or shocks them they usually become obsessed with.

Uranus in the 3rd house sounds like such a smart placement! I never met one person with this placement so I’m so interested on what these people think. (If you have this placement talk about it in the comments 🤗)

Mercury retrograde people are FUNNY omg. For a placement that has a hard time communicating they are absolutely hilarious. They say the most original jokes, shit that makes you think “how do you even come up with that🤣” they are able to see things people normally overlook which makes them so witty.

All Scorpio placements have such piercing dark eyes (sun, moon, rising esp). Even if you have light colored eyes they still appear dark in a way idk how to explain it.

Scorpio risings love people who can hold eye contact. It’s like their secret way of communicating. Insecure types however I see completely avoid it.. but most I notice really dig it. (Especially when it’s their crush 😏..)

Leo risings can exaggerate things about themselves to impress others. They are very dazzling and engaging but you can sense a fakeness in how they present themselves at times. (You guys don’t have to be something you’re not to impress others you guys are so cool regardless 🫶🏽) I’ve seen a lot of people with this placement be actually really awkward and nerdy but most cover it up with a glamorous mask.

Water mercuries can sense when people have bad intentions. They are usually the first ones to see when someone is fake while others might miss it. (Can catch a bad vibe from someone everyone likes then later find out they were horrible people all along).

Moon in Aries women are so HOT. The men are hot as well but very immature and annoying most of the time.

Aqua moons I feel like are the most unconventional and eccentric of all the Aquarius placements. They on a different wavelength then us all.

Gemini Risings in school were usually getting trouble for talking too much or disrupting the class lol.

Sorry I took to long to post I’ve been violently sick all week ♥️🫶🏽

[froggiewrites]

Fanboy

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You get a little more than you bargained for when you decide to clean your Captain's office for him and stumble upon his smutty fanfiction. Warnings: Very Mild Angst, Smut, Fem!Reader, Roleplay, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Minor Dacryphilia, Petnames (use of sweetheart and good girl) Word Count: 7.6k Notes: This was originally supposed to be a sub 2000 word silly one shot about Law writing Sora smut. As you can see, it very quickly got out of hand. I hope you all enjoy it!

You have come to terms with the fact your Captain does not and will never want you how you want him.

It was hard, at first, to hear his silky voice and see his strong hands and not imagine him saying what you want to hear as he holds you against the wall, fingers slipping slowly up your thighs to where you need him most. It got even harder a few years in, after he started wearing perpetually open shirts and coats, showing off the tattoos you so desperately want to trace your tongue across. But you’re finally starting to accept that he simply doesn’t feel the same. His eyes don’t linger on you when you’re around. He doesn’t show you any leniency (not that you would expect any, of course, but it’s hard not to notice his favoritism for Bepo when he forgives him in an instant for a transgression he had you swab the deck for). He doesn’t accept your help when you offer it, no matter how badly he needs it.

He just doesn’t really want anything to do with you, or at least no more to do with you than anyone else on the ship. Penguin and Shachi, who unfortunately clocked your affection for your Captain years ago, have come up with a long list of excuses as to why he hasn’t shown any signs of affection.

“He’s shy.”

“He gets embarrassed easily.”

“He’s worried about the power gap.”

“He only looks at you when you aren’t looking.”

“Yelling is how he shows his affection.”

And of course, your personal favorite.

“He’s just a nerd. He doesn’t know how to act around women.”

Shachi has repeated this one a lot, and as always you immediately dispute it. “That cannot possibly be true, Shachi.”

“Why not?”

“Look at him!”

“I know what he looks like. Doesn’t change the fact he gets nervous.”

“Captain has never, for even a single moment, shown any sort of hesitation or shyness in front of me. And he’s a grown man, a handsome one, not to mention a wanted pirate. You honestly expect me to believe he’s some shy little nerd who can’t bring himself to talk to me? He just doesn’t like me, Shachi. And that’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“Handle what?” Penguin’s voice echoes in the small room he and Shachi share, which you’ve decided to invade for the day. 

“Her pining for Captain.”

“Ah.”

You huff. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s like…a fact of life. Something so easy to brush past.”

Shachi narrows his eyes in confusion. “I thought you said that’s what you wanted to do. Be casual about it, and all.”

“Yeah, I want to. It feels different when you do it.” You’re pouting. You hate that you’re pouting.

Penguin gives you a pitying smile, dripping with good natured sympathy that makes you clench your jaw. “It’s tough, isn’t it?” He sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift you too much. He pats your shoulder, tutting quietly. “It’s hard to get over somebody you don’t really want to get over.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. You finally lift your head, and once you make eye contact, his smile turns a little more teasing.

“I know a great guy you could use as a rebound.”

You sigh. “Is it you?”

He laughs. “Who’s to say? You don’t need him yet.” His smile softens again, something more genuine. “But know that if you really do give up, there will be other guys. Other chances. Give this one a good shot, a real one, and if it doesn’t work out? Come talk to us, and it’ll all be alright.”

Shachi pipes up as well. “It will work out, really. But if it doesn’t…” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you can’t help but finally give them the laugh they were clearly aiming for. Which becomes a full on giggle fit once they light up and give each other a massive high five at their victory. The room is warm, and you finally forget your worries for a moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Law’s voice cuts through you like ice, and your laughter stops in an instant. Shachi and Penguin are unphased, of course, still smiling freely.

“I just got off of my shift, Captain. I was going to take a nap, but…” Penguin pokes your side, and you let out a soft squeak as you curl in on yourself. You don’t miss the way Law’s eyes narrow slightly at the contact, the way he seems to focus in on the noise. He must be annoyed with you, with how you’re taking up space somewhere you don’t belong.

“I’m also off shift.” Your voice is small, embarrassingly so. 

“I wasn’t talking to you two.” Law’s voice is just as flat and authoritative as always. He’s nothing if not born to command. You’d love to hear what commands he might give you, if–

No. Bad. Evil. Your mind betrays you, as it always does. You sit up so you can hide yourself behind Penguin, make yourself small and inconspicuous and hope that Law will stop looking at you with those beautiful piercing eyes. You don’t know how long you can be normal under such an intense gaze. 

“I’m on break,” Shachi defends, causing Law’s eyes to shift over to him. You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as you feel the pressure of his gaze leave you, and you wrap your arms lightly around Penguin, allowing your forehead to fall forward and press into his back. You can feel the rumble of a laugh working its way through his chest, though you can’t figure out why.

Law’s voice is significantly harsher than before. “Well, end it.” You flinch, unused to him snapping quite so cruelly. Law may have a shorter temper than he would admit, but he never sounds quite so furious, especially not with Shachi and Penguin. He seems to realize this as well, because the next time he speaks is much gentler. “I–Just get back to work. I need everyone at their best right now.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” There’s a hint of chuckle in Shachi’s voice, for some reason. He stands, bed creaking as he does. “You can use my bed if you want to nap in here. Let Peng have his.”

You let out a soft whine, but peel yourself off of Penguin anyway. “No, it’s fine, I should get back to my room anyway. I need a nap before I do anything else.” You think you see Law nodding in approval out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look at him, his eyes are firmly on Shachi, glaring at his back as he leaves. Just wishful thinking on your part, as always. 

Penguin softly pats your back as you walk past. “Chin up. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What’ll work out?” Law is staring at Penguin’s hand on your back.

“Nothing!” You try not to sound panicked. You fail, of course.

His eyes narrow.

“Sorry, Captain. This is a secret just for us lowly crew members. No captains allowed!” Penguin’s smile is relaxed and easy, and it almost manages to calm you down. You would love to play along, make a little joke out of it, but the idea of him finding out petrifies you. What if he’s disgusted by the idea? Horrified enough to kick you out of the crew, your home, your family? He wouldn’t, you know that, but the image in your head is so clear. Your chest feels tight, your head fuzzy, and you think at some point you started holding your breath.

Law makes a noncommittal grunt, scowl still clear on his face, but he leaves. A small mercy.

“Hey, take a breath, please. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Are you gonna be alright to get back to your room? Do you need me to walk you?” Penguin’s hand rests gently on your elbow, and he looks ready to jump to your aid at any moment.

You give him a shaky smile. “I’ll be alright. Anxiety’s never killed anyone. Probably.” You take care to walk as steadily as you can out of the room, avoiding eye contact with your Captain, who’s waiting directly outside.

“You okay?” His voice stops you in your tracks.

“Yeah, I’m–” You see the disbelief on his face. “I’ve been better. But it’s okay. I’ll get there.”

“Are Penguin and Shachi giving you trouble? They mean well, but sometimes their jokes can go a little far. I–” He clears his throat, eyes glancing away for a moment. “I could talk to them. If you need me to.”

You chuckle. This means he really has no idea he’s the source of your anguish. Good. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. They’re actually helping me through something.”

He purses his lips. You imagine how soft they’d feel on yours. “Helping you through something?”

“Yeah. I’ve been struggling with it lately, and talking to them has really helped.” You stare intensely at the wall behind him, worrying that you’ll come undone and say something you can’t take back if you stare into his eyes for too long. Something about him just makes you want to melt under his gaze, and you can’t afford to give in to the impulse.

He hums, eyes briefly fluttering closed. “I see. Well, I’m glad you have their support.” Is it just you, or is his voice a bit colder than it was before? “I’ll leave you be. Have a nice nap.”

“Thanks, Captain.” You try not to run back to your room until you’re sure he can’t hear your footsteps anymore. You change out of your boiler suit, desperate to be in something more comfortable than this, and throw yourself into your bed face first. You press your face into your pillow, trying to ground yourself. You aren’t allowed to imagine what it would feel like to lay on Law’s chest instead, his hands on your back, tracing meaningless patterns into your skin. You aren’t allowed to imagine the warmth of the blankets as his, or the comfort of your weighted blanket as his arm around your back. You certainly aren’t allowed to cry about the fact that it isn’t him, and that it never will be. Because that would mean you weren’t getting over him, instead getting lost in a fantasy of what can never and will never be. And you have no time for fantasy, despite what your heart keeps trying to tell you. 

You dream of him, as you always seem to.

You could cope with it, if it were simply sex. If it were about nothing more than his cock and his hands and the way his voice penetrates deep into your bones whenever you hear it, turning you pliable and needy. But today’s dream is one you’ve had before, and one you always dread.

I love you. His hands are gentle as they wrap around your waist, pulling you close. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. His nose nuzzles against your neck, tickling you and making you giggle.

I love you too, Law. I think I always have. Your hands rest on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating below your fingers, quick and thundering. You smile. Nervous?

Of course I am. Look at you. His eyes bore into yours, and you can see the affection flooding them. His nose brushes against yours, his lips growing closer, and his eyes flutter shut.

Yours shoot open.

No matter how many dreams you have about Law, you can never kiss him. How sad, that your brain can imagine a hundred ways he can fuck you and not one in which gives you the one thing you’ve been craving most.

You throw off your covers and throw on a bra, not bothering to get fully dressed. You need some air, which is unfortunate, considering the Tang won’t surface for at least another day or two. You can at least go downstairs and find a window, press yourself against the glass and pretend you’re out in the cold of the ocean, at peace with the world around you. You can avoid passing Law’s office, and hopefully that means you’ll avoid the man himself. You don’t want to burst into tears the moment you see him, and you feel too soft and fragile right now, like your edges are crumbling. Half of you is still in the dream, melting into fantasy, and being snapped into reality with a single look might shatter you.

You pad quietly out into the hallway, unsure of what time it is, not wanting to wake anyone. It’s impossible to tell what time of day it is on the Tang when you’re underwater, lit only by harsh fluorescents that constantly buzz. It’s peaceful, feeling the cold metal of the floors seep through your socks and hearing the quiet thunk of your footsteps muffled by the fabric. 

“Are you heading downstairs?”

You turn to see Bepo, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, papers in hand. “Yeah, I am. Why? Do you need something?”

“Can you run these to Captain for me? I would, but–” 

You see him wince as he speaks, and you immediately know what the problem is. Before you can even think about it, you’re swiping the papers from his hands easily. “Yeah, of course, big guy. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you so much!” He’s off in an instant.

You stare at the papers, willing yourself into reality. You’re going to bring something to your captain. The man you have no other relationship with. Just doing your job. And afterwards you can go back to your room and cry all you want, if you really feel like you need to.

Law should be in his office right now, buried up to his neck in paperwork. It doesn’t feel great to add to that pile, or to let him see you so underdressed, but Bepo needed help. You can’t let him suffer just to avoid some embarrassment. You make your way down, knocking lightly against his office door.

No voice calls you inside.

Strange. He should be here. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. You’ve heard the others scold him for that dozens of times, and you’ve caught him yourself once or twice. He’s going to ruin his back if he keeps doing that. You crack open the door, ready to shift him into a more comfortable position, but you find your Captain isn’t actually there at all. His desk is a mess, papers everywhere, a sharp contrast from the neatly organized shelves and minimalist look of the rest of the room.

“Maybe I should tidy up for him,” you mutter to yourself. Law hates asking for help with things he believes he should be able to handle on his own, but clearly this is getting away from him. And even if he wasn’t grateful for the intrusion, at least it might lighten his load a little. You’d do nearly anything to ease your Captain’s burdens, if he’d just let you.

Before you realize it, your hands are on the papers, your former fragility forgotten as you get lost in the calm that such a mundane task brings you. You start by simply organizing the papers into stacks based on their titles and a quick skim of their opening paragraphs. You don’t read any further, not wanting to read anything not meant for your eyes, and you quickly find you’re able to organize everything into three neat stacks: medical papers, ship logs, and a third stack of anything that doesn’t fit into the previous two. You’re nearly finished when you find a title that makes you pause.

You can’t figure out what What You Can’t Have could mean, or what this bundle of papers is doing in Law’s office. Skimming the first few paragraphs doesn’t give you any explanation, until you start reading more closely and see a name: Sora.

Everyone in the North Blue knows about Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and everyone on this ship knows it more intimately than most. Your Captain’s fondness for the series and your fondness for him means you know it very well, well enough to know this is not one of the noncanonical (but still official) spinoff novels, or a novel adaptation of one of the comics. There’s a character you’ve never heard of before in this, one that, if you were a more paranoid person, you would suspect is based on you. She can’t be, of course. That would be ridiculous. But as you read her introductory paragraph, you can’t help but notice she bears a striking physical resemblance to you. Same hair and eye color, same height, same build. But she can’t be you. She’s described as seductive, enchanting, and many other things you know nobody would ever say about you.

You should put this down. But the writing style is so familiar, and so are the handwritten edits in the margins. Your captain wrote this. You had no idea this was what he did in what little spare time he has. You keep telling yourself to stop reading, to tuck it away and pretend you didn’t see it, because really, you know he wouldn’t want you to have seen it, easily embarrassed as he is. But there’s so much passion in the words, so much care, and frankly? It’s good. Really good. You think he has some real talent, in something you would have never expected him to even try. His care for the series oozes from every word, and he’s really good at building tension, and–

Oh.

Your captain hasn’t just been writing fanfiction about his favorite hero.

He’s been writing smut.

Really good smut, honestly.

You lean against the desk, completely enraptured by his work. The tension between Sora and this unnamed woman is astonishing, every single word winding you up tighter as you wait for the dam to break. Before you know it, you’re fully bent over the desk, clutching the page in your hands, trying not to rub your thighs together at the very graphic descriptions of what Sora is doing with his hands. You imagine Law’s hands, lithe and long, sliding under your shirt like Sora’s do under this mystery woman’s. You imagine his breath puffing against your ear as he instructs, be good for me, now, and maybe you can finally get what you want, just like Sora does. You imagine him moving impossibly closer, feeling his hardness press into your thigh as– 

“What are you doing in here?”

You freeze. Your captain is standing in the door, papers in hand and scowl severe. If you didn’t know better, you would think for a moment his eyes lingered on the cleavage you’re showing by leaning over this far. But you do know better, so you tell yourself he’s simply observing the papers in your hands, even if his gaze seems aimed too high for that. You shoot up, papers still in hand, shirt riding up in the process, and god does it look like his eyes dip down to your exposed midriff in the process. But they don’t. You have more pressing matters than your delusions, anyway.

“Hi Captain!”

“...Hi.”

“I–Um. I was organizing your desk for you.”

His eyes linger on the three stacks of papers, humming quietly. “I see that. …Why?”

“Bepo had me run papers down to you, but you weren’t here, and–and your desk was so messy, so much messier than usual, and I was worried maybe you were overwhelmed and I thought it might help.” You’re speaking a mile a minute, clutching the papers close to your chest in some desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the sound of the papers wrinkling causes him to glance down and now you’re sure that just for a moment he was looking at your boobs and you’re far more flustered than you were when you began.

And even worse, he smiles. It’s a soft, gentle thing, which sneaks so slowly onto his face you don’t even know if he realizes it’s there. But it is. And it’s beautiful. “Thank you, then. I appreciate the thought.”

Your grip eases on the papers for a second, and the crinkling brings his attention back to them. You don’t know what gives it away, but with the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips part, you know that he knows what you have in your hands. The way he whispers your name, the fear in it, makes your heart clench.

“Captain–”

“Did you–I–” He takes a breath, gathers himself. “Did you read anything you weren’t supposed to?”

God, you did. You’re halfway through a sex scene, flushed and flustered and thinking about your captain in ways that are wholly and completely inappropriate. You’re panicking. You can’t let Law see how flustered you are, can’t let him realize that you were fantasizing about him, lusting after him in his office while he’s out like some kind of pervert. So, trying to turn this around on him, throw him off his rhythm, you decide to make a deeply out of character choice.

You open your mouth, taking a dramatic breath as though you're going to start reading aloud, and you can see the panic in Law's eyes. Before you can decide between reading and handing it over to spare him the embarrassment, you hear “Shambles!” as the papers in your hand are swapped with the ones he walked in with. You're momentarily disappointed, before you look down and are struck with intense and all consuming delight.

In trying to get the fanfiction out of your hands, Law has, in fact, given you more of his fanfiction to read.

You gasp quietly, cheshire cat grin widening. Law looks at you with confusion, clearly still so thrown he hasn't realized what's just transpired. In your current state, you can only think of one way to inform him.

"Her hands were soft and gentle, so small compared to his-"

"STOP." He lunges forward around the desk, powers forgotten as he decides to bullrush you to get the papers out of your hands. His hands wrap around your wrists, and before you know it you’re pinned against the desk, chests pressed together, his leg pressed between your thighs. You flush, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hard body against yours, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Do you think this is funny?”

You open your mouth to respond, but his lips are so close, and you feel something else pressing into your midriff. You make a small choked noise, and his glare doesn’t dampen.

“Are you trying to embarrass your captain?”

“I–uh–Captain–” You can barely squeak out anything, and he presses closer.

“Answer me.”

“You’re so close.”

He pauses.

He blinks.

And suddenly your captain is across the room, face bright red, holding his papers in front of his chest like a shield. “I–um.” He stares at you a moment, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to your hips and back up, and suddenly the papers shifts down in front of his crotch.

He couldn’t…

Could he?

Before you can process this, he’s speaking again, his tone far less authoritative than it was before. “How far did you read?”

“Uh–pretty far.”

You could swear his voice cracks a little as he whispers, “Oh god. This is–you were never supposed to see that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep reading, it was just–it was really good.”

He stares at you a moment, mouth agape. “What?”

“It was–I liked it a lot. I didn’t even mean to start it, I just couldn’t figure out what pile to put it in, and then I got really invested, and–I’m really, really sorry, Captain.”

“You liked it?” His eyes are narrowed, looking at you like something dangerous, like if he shows a moment of weakness you’ll pounce. He approaches you slowly, inching closer and closer.

“...Yeah. I did. I was really impressed, actually. I didn’t know you were a writer.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”

“Why?”

“I just…don’t know if I’m good at it.” He sounds small in a way you’ve never heard him. You’ve never seen Law less than confident before. He absolutely radiates it, a constant smug grin and twinkle in his eyes. It suits him far better than slumped shoulders and wringing hands.

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. What I was able to read, anyway. I couldn’t bear to put it down.” You reach for him for just a moment, your hand ready to touch his shoulder, but something in you pulls it back. You can’t bring yourself to touch him, not as you are. 

He won’t look at you. You can feel his regret in sharing, in allowing his mask to crack slightly. There’s a bitterness to his tone as he snaps at you like a wounded animal. “You expect me to believe that? That you didn’t just read it to laugh at me?”

You can’t keep the pity off of your face. His first instinct is always to believe he’ll be hurt, that an open hand is a sign of a slap, and not a kind touch. “Why on earth would I do that, Captain?”

His shoulders unknot a bit as he thinks it over. You have never done anything to hurt him, and to tease in such a cruel way is not in your nature. He’s not relaxed, not quite, but he isn’t ready to run anymore. He leans against a nearby table, parking himself at a distance but assuring you he won’t go further. “I suppose you wouldn’t. …So you really liked it?”

The way he’s looking at you is so fragile, so soft. You feel your heart clench at the sight of such a guarded man looking so adorable, though you know he would hate to be called such a thing. You can’t help the affection that leaks into your gentle smile as you look at him. “I really did.”

He huffs, trying to bring back up his walls, but he can’t hide his relief, and his continued interest. “What did you like about it?”

“I thought the descriptions were very vivid. It was…” It feels like crossing a line you can’t uncross to call it hot, but he’s looking at you so expectantly. “Very stimulating.”

Something akin to a smirk grows on his face, offset by the dust of a blush on his cheeks. His voice is an octave deeper when he speaks. “Simulating?”

You shiver. “I–uh–yes. The leads had really good chemistry. I never imagined Sora would be so…charming. And I liked the woman too, though I have to admit I didn’t recognize her name.”

He nods. “You wouldn’t. She’s an original character.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I wanted to try my hand at something new, and I didn’t like pairing him with any of the canon characters so I just…made one up.”

You shift nervously on your feet, thinking about how remarkably familiar her description was. “So you made her just for this? Didn’t even give her a name?”

“I haven’t decided her name yet, but I’m working on it. And yeah, she’s just for this. Why?”

You want to be subtle, ease your way in, but your mind is running a mile a minute and frankly subtlety has never been your strong suit anyway. “So…is she supposed to be me?”

He shoots up so quickly he nearly falls over. “What? No! No, why would you think that?” He looks absolutely mortified, like he’s praying the floor swallows him whole. He looks about two seconds away from shambling himself out of the sub and letting the ocean take him away.

“Well in her intro, when you describe her…she looks a lot like me.”

“...She does?” He seems genuinely surprised, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Why are you asking? You’re the writer! You didn’t realize?”

“No, I…” He’s blushing to the tips of his ears. “She was just supposed to be a beautiful woman. I didn’t think that hard about what she looked like beyond that.”

“She has the same hair color and eye color as me, you describe her as around my height, and the dress she’s wearing in her intro is my favorite color.”

His shoulders are so tense they’re practically up over his ears. If his voice cracks when he yells, you’re kind enough not to acknowledge it. “I didn’t think that much about it! I just thought of a beautiful woman and I described her.”

“So when you think of a beautiful woman in your head, you see me?”

He doesn’t answer.

You try to hide your giddy smile. “That’s sweet, Captain.”

He avoids eye contact so aggressively you swear it must be hurting him at this point. “It wasn’t–I–I didn’t notice. You don’t think it’s…creepy?”

“That you think I’m beautiful?”

“That I wrote porn about a woman who looks exactly like you.”

“Oh. When you put it like that I guess it doesn’t sound great.” He tenses again, so you rush to reassure him. “But no, I don’t think it’s creepy. It’s not like you meant to, or anything. Or that you wrote about me and like, another member of the crew or something. Why would I be mad that I just happen to be exactly your type?” Your heart is beating out of your chest as you try to portray a confidence you certainly don’t feel. 

“Right. Yeah. I–There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He didn’t deny it.

“And it’s…great porn, honestly.”

Your delivery is so awkward the tension finally breaks as he laughs at you. “I appreciate that. I worked hard on it. But I’m not sure on some of the descriptions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure it reads as true to life.”

“Does it need to?”

“No, not really, fantasies don’t have to be realistic. But…I can’t help but think about it anyway. What if part of it is so unrealistic it takes you out of it entirely, and I just didn’t notice? Or didn’t know because I’ve never tried that specific thing? Do you know what I mean?”

You do. You know insecurity in your work, the way it whispers in your ear. You know that words are not enough reassurance to silence those whispers. You want to help him, even if you don’t know how you could.

“What if we…tested it? To see if it’s realistic?” You can’t believe the words that just left your mouth. From the look on his face, Law can’t either.

“What?” A beautiful crimson streaks across his face and up to his ears, heat radiating off of him.

“Oh my god. Forget I said that, that was so inappropriate, I’ll just go–”

“No!” He’s so loud you both flinch, and he seems surprised by his own objection. His long fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you can feel his calluses brush against your skin. God, what you wouldn’t give for those fingers to be somewhere else. “No, don’t–don’t leave. I think–I would–um. I’d like that.”

You blink. “You would?”

“Just to…test it. To make sure my writing is accurate. I’m a perfectionist.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.” His eyes flicker down to where he’s holding you, and to your surprise, he doesn’t release his grip. He tugs you closer, pressing your chests together, and you can feel his warm breath in his ear. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Law.”

“What?”

The deep rumble of his voice is commanding in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together. “I want to hear you say my name. Call me Law.”

“Yes, Law.”

You can feel his smirk as he whispers the next words in your ear. “Good girl.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you bite your lip to keep from making any deeply embarrassing noises. He chuckles as he pulls away, and you see no trace of his earlier apprehension or nerves. You suppose Law has always been a good liar, always putting up the front of the proud, confident, and unshakable Surgeon of Death. What is this but another part for him to play?

“How did it start again?” He places his hands on your hips, leading you away from the desk and toward the wall. “She and Sora meet up in the club, strike up a conversation–”

“Can we skip to the good part?” You hate how needy and breathless you sound. You’re already worked up from reading, from hearing him speak, from being so close, that you think if you spend another minute without some kind of release you might explode.

He chuckles. “I guess we can skip forward a bit.” He presses you against the wall, hand sliding to your thigh. You shiver, but he stops right before his fingers slide under your shorts. “But have you been good enough to earn it?”

You whine, a pathetic, wounded sound that comes from deep within you. For a moment, you see his facade slip as he swallows, trying not to give away how much the sound turned him on. But after a moment his mask settles back firmly in place, and you’re both ready to continue the game. “Please, Law. I’ve been good. I’ll be good.”

His smile is all teeth as his fingers find their place inside of you. First one, pumping slowly and deliberately, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. He moans quietly in your ear at the feeling of it. You know his line before he says it. “Do you feel that? The way you’re pulling me in? You need me bad, sweetheart, don’t you?”

He inserts a second finger right as you open your mouth to answer. “Ahh–Yes! I need you!”

He pumps harder, faster, and his other hand starts to wander towards your chest. His lips find your neck, nipping at the point where it meets your jaw, making you gasp again. His hand gently squeezes your breast through your shirt, and he can feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. He chuckles. “Yes, you do. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can. You know it. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you’re so drawn to me. On some level you know: it’s just you and me. We’re all there is, all that matters. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Law! Yes!”

His free hand effortlessly removes your shirt, and you gasp as you’re exposed to the air, your back pressing into the cold wall. He removes your bra next, letting out a soft hiss of appreciation when he finally sees them fully exposed. “As beautiful as I imagined,” he whispers, seemingly to himself. You don’t remember that line.

His mouth finds your nipple easily, sucking and nipping as you threaten to come undone under his attention. His fingers are still moving, his thumb on your clit, building the tension in your body until you feel like you’re going to explode. You’re so very close to the edge, close enough that in your pleasure you forget the next part of the story for a moment.

Until his fingers leave you.

“No!” Your head slams back into the wall as you wail, tears welling up in your eyes. Law seems unaffected, pulling back from you as he slowly inserts his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste. The only sign that you’ve shaken him is the clear strain of his cock under his jeans, desperate to be free.

His fingers leave his mouth with a pop, and he smiles at you, eyes half-lidded. “Did you think it was going to be that easy? That you would just get what you want, no questions asked?”

You whine, the sound filled with genuine despair. The room is silent for a moment as he stares at you, waiting for your next line, and you try to remember the part you’re supposed to play here. You just barely manage to grasp it, breathlessly saying, “I thought you were a better man than to leave a lady wanting.”

He slides off his tank top, revealing his beautiful tattoos to you. “Oh, honey, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need. And how wonderful it’ll be, once you’re so on edge you can barely stand it, and I finally give in to you. Can you imagine it?” He pops the button of his pants next, sensually sliding them and his boxers down to expose his bare hips. “What it’ll feel like, when I’m finally inside of you?”

His cock is finally free, bobbing in the air as it leaks with precum. He looks painfully hard, and you swallow as you briefly imagine it in your mouth. You’d give almost anything to taste him right now, but that isn’t a part of the scene.

“You’ll feel so full, honey. Imagine how good it’ll feel to cum on my cock. Isn’t that worth the wait?”

“God, yes.”

“Good girl. So agreeable.” One hand finds your hips as he uses the other to line himself up. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, god, please.”

He slowly slides in, feeling the drag of every inch of his dick against your walls. He makes a strangled noise at the feeling, burying his face into your neck as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He stops once he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you both a moment to adjust.

And then another.

And another.

“Law?”

You can hear him chuckle against you. “What, darling?”

“Please, Law.”

He pretends to ponder whether or not to give in for a moment, keeping you in suspense, before he relents. He pulls away from your neck, revealing his extremely red face. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him cannot hide the effects you’re having. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

You know the line you’re supposed to say next. She tells Sora she wants relief, wants him to move, wants anything that she can have. But you’re soft, and weak, filled with want. You cannot help but think of your dream this morning, what you were denied and what you’ve always wanted. So you speak the honest truth. “I want you to kiss me.”

He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching yours. You see your own want reflected in him, an affection that makes your chest ache. Then a smile blooms across his face, one gentler than you deserve. The line he says next is Sora’s, but what comes after is all Law. “Whatever the lady wants,” he murmurs, before his lips meet yours.

The kiss isn’t fireworks, or an all consuming flame, or any other way you’d ever heard such a thing described. It was tender, it was kind, and most importantly, it was Law. You’d never wanted anything else. It finally confirms to you that this isn’t a dream, that he’s really here, pressing you against this wall, a desire burning in him that only you can satiate. The lust is still here, the heat of your bodies intertwined, but there’s something tender and real beneath it. 

Once you both pull back, panting, you look into his eyes and know the scene is well and truly over. Now it’s just you and Law, breaths mingling and hearts pounding. He smiles at you, a nervous, delicate thing, his confidence left behind with the script. He’s breathless as he whispers, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

You let out a soft, unsure laugh. “Is that Law talking, or Sora?”

He brushes his nose against yours. “It’s all me. It always has been.”

You can’t help your lovesick smile, dripping with a saccharine fondness you couldn’t hide if you tried. You meet his lips again, a kiss with a little more fire, a little more desperation. You try to convey everything you can’t say aloud: the years of yearning, the pain of thinking this moment would never come, the euphoria of learning you were wrong. Your hands press against his chest, his pulse fluttering under your fingers in unison with your own. You wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him ever closer. He lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the feeling of your lips against his as you clench around him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and once again the air around you grows ever hotter.

“Can I move?” There’s a whine to his voice. “Please.”

“Please do,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chests together. 

He needs no further instruction, thrusting harshly, hips rutting against yours. You can feel him struggle to hold himself back from pounding into you at a bruising pace. His hands grip your hips, his nails digging in as he clenches his teeth.

“You don’t have to hold back, Law. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

He struggles to speak through his self control. “I want to enjoy this. I want to take my time.” Another deliberate thrust has you dragging your nails down his back, making him moan in your ear. “I want this to be as good as it can be for you.”

“This is–ahh!–already better than I’d ever dreamed, Law.”

One of his hands moves to your clit, his fingers starting a steady motion. “Not good enough,” he mutters. His lips find your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along its length, his teeth grazing your skin. You feel yourself coming close to cumming again, your voice growing louder, echoing through the room as you babble. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, the words please and more and Law are all you can say, all you can think. There is nothing in the world beyond the feeling of him against you, inside of you, his soft lips and callused hands. 

You expect him to rip away your pleasure again, but when he briefly stills, your babbles turn to sobs anyway. He pulls back to look you in the eye, take in the sight of the tears running down your face, and you can see him soften once again. His hands and hips start moving again immediately as he presses soft kisses against your cheeks, clearing away your tears.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s alright. You’re doing great. I won’t take it from you again, I promise.” His voice is filled with pity. “You’ve been so good, you can take what you want now.” He builds you back up quickly, his hips pressing into yours even faster than before. You can feel yourself about to burst, and you slam your lips into his, moaning into his mouth. The dam finally bursts, and the pleasure nearly blinds you as you clench around him, his hips struggling to keep moving with how tightly your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your orgasm is what finally makes him break, filling you to the brim as his movements stutter.

You bask in the feeling for a moment, both panting and dripping with sweat, his cock rapidly softening inside of you. Your head lolls forward, pressing into his shoulder, and you press a kiss against his sticky skin.

“Was it worth the wait?” He tries to ask the question in a teasing tone, but you can hear the insecurity underneath it.

“It was worth everything and more.” You shift to wrap your arms tighter around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. 

You can feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, gathering you up as he slips out of you. “Agreed.” He kisses the side of your head, an action so filled with care it nearly makes you burst into tears again. He tries to lower you onto something, making you pull him closer and whine. “I just need to set you down for a second, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

“No.” You sound like a pouting child, making you cringe, but he laughs fondly anyway.

“Alright. A few more minutes. But I have to clean you up eventually, and then we need to find a place a bit more private to settle in, don’t you think? Or at least somewhere more comfortable.”

You hum quietly, pressing your nose further into him. You can worry about logistics in a few minutes. Right now you just want to bask in his warmth, in this dream turned reality, in the absolute joy of your feelings being reciprocated. “I really didn’t think you liked me,” you mutter sleepily. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“I could say the same,” he murmurs into your hair.

You laugh. “Shachi and Peng are going to be so smug about this.”

“They are?”

“They’ve been trying to tell me for years, and they don’t get to tell me I told you so very often.”

“They were telling you too?” He laughs. “We could have done this months ago if we’d just believed them.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes starting to slip shut. “You’re worth the wait, though.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as his hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, luring you further into sleep. “Yeah. So are you.”

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay 

[howtofightwrite]

What kind of wounds would a shotgun give to someone thats not wearing any bullet proof vest but just thick, winter jackets? Like those heavy jackets with fleece on the inside that old guys wear alot. ( I think its called a work jacket?)

I've always thought a shot gun would give some sort of blast damage and make quite a mess, but in The Day of The Jackal ep 6 it didn't seem that bad when he killed that farmer guy in Hungary lol.

So here's a fun thought to play with. A leather jacket is made from treated animal hide. In most cases, they're actually softened a bit to be more comfortable.

Shotguns are frequently used to hunt large game. Large game where their primary form of armor is their skin. Their skin which does almost nothing to stop a shotgun blast.

So, unless it's loaded with something like rocksalt, a leather jacket is not stopping a shotgun.

In answer to your original question, “what kind of wounds?” Catastrophic ones. It would be really messy.

Also, remember shotguns are still usable up to ~100 meters, at which they'll have a roughly 2m spray pattern. Getting hit by a shotgun, even at 50 meters, is going to be really bad. It's a bit like hitting someone simultaneously with a hail of small caliber rounds. Individually one piece of shot isn't likely to be lethal, but get hit with five or six of them, and that's a real problem. It's going to create a bunch of wound channels, and each wound has a chance to hit something vital, or ricochet and try again. And even at best, you're going to be losing blood from each of them simultaneously.

As for actual armor, most Level III or higher armor should stop a shotgun blast. However, shotguns are pretty good at damaging body armor. So someone wearing a ballistic vest who takes a shotgun hit, probably isn't going to be safe from the next pistol round that hits their vest anywhere near where the shot landed.

Similarly, with plate carriers, it should be fine, but there's a real risk that some of the shot chipped the plate. That's not going to cause the next shotgun blast to punch through, but it does mean that carrier now can't be trusted to stop rifle rounds.

Now, none of that are things you usually obsess over. For the most part, ballistic armor is single use anyway. If you're wearing a Kevlar vest and get shot, it's time to replace that vest. So, having your vest soak a shotgun hit isn't some kind of special tactic on your enemy's part, and is really just your vest doing its job.

Against unarmored targets, shotguns can be downright horrific.

So, using a winter parka to stop a shotgun blast is probably the result of someone who heard the, “shotguns are horrible at armor penetration,” line and took it a little bit too seriously.

There are some AP shells out there. Including slugs that market themselves as armor penetrating. I've never looked too deeply in to these. I know of their existence, but not how effective they actually are.

There's also probably some close quarters scenarios where a slug might punch right through body armor, even though, generally speaking, slugs lose energy extremely quickly, and at mid to long range, they're not going to penetrate. Ultimately, it is an 18mm bullet without a lot of powder behind it, so the drop off makes sense, but it's still a lot of mass to deal with when it's leaving the barrel. Even if your armor holds up, taking that hit is probably not going to be fun.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[vitalverstappen]

Cassandra - C. Leclerc

summary: when everyone believes you, what's that like?

pairing: Charles Leclerc x platonic teammate! reader

warnings: Mattia Binotto, swearing, some sexist comments

word count: 3k

a/n: in honor of max winning the WDC, i figured i'd post something. in honor of charles finally losing his shit on the team radio, i figured i'd post this. also it takes place during the 2022 season

masterlist

the tortured drivers department masterlist

2022 was supposed to be your year. You broke onto the F1 scene in 2020 with Haas after working your way up through F3 and F2, championing both levels of racing with ease. You proved yourself time and time again by consistently placing within the points in a less than superior car. 

That’s how you got the attention of Ferrari. They offered you a one year deal, and you couldn’t turn it down. You were okay with being the second driver, because you were racing for the most historic team in F1. 

Things started out great. The car was a major upgrade from the tractor you were driving with Haas, and the team actively listened to your input and took having a woman in the car seriously.

You and Charles also clicked instantly, which led to some amazing content for the social teams. 

“Anything you need, or feel needs changed, let us know. We’re a family here” Mattia said as he gave you the tour of the Ferrari factory.

You couldn’t have drawn up the first two races any better. Both you and Charles were on the podium and it looked like you two were going to give Max and Red Bull a run for their money in the championship races. 

The downward spiral started in Australia. From the moment you hit the track for the first time, something felt off. The car was sluggish, it took all of your strength to accelerate and brake properly. 

“There’s something wrong with the car.” you told the team, your frustration mounting. “It takes forever to accelerate and then when I do, I can’t break”

“Have you tried leg day?” Mattia asked, a smirk forming on his face, causing you to storm away and find your mechanics. 

The Australian Grand Prix ended up being a disaster. You struggled through the laps, barely able to keep up with the field. The car was just too much of a handful. Thirteen laps in, you hand no choice but to retire from the race. The speed was gone, and your confidence was shot. 

“I cannot believe he looked me in the eyes and said ‘try leg day’” You fumed as you barged into Charles’ driver room. The frustration was evident in every word, your anger still fresh from the weekend’s events. 

Charles looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow at your entrance. “Well hello to you too” he said with a small chuckle. “What’s going on?” 

You let out a deep sigh and recounted the car troubles and the interaction with Mattia. “He actually said ‘try leg day’ to me, like it’s some kind of joke. What happened to ‘if you need anything, let me know’?”

Charles listened intently, a sympathetic look crossing his face. “Hopefully it was just an assembly issue” he said, trying to ease your frustration. ”Imola should go smoothly for the two of us. We both know you’re a hell of a driver.” 

Imola was next, and that was somehow even worse than Australia. Instead of acceleration and braking problems, the new issue was the engine. It had to be replaced between practice 3 and qualifying, only for the new one to fail during the race in Imola. 

“I have the utmost trust in my team.” You said during your press interviews “We’ve tried upgrades, but they’ve fallen flat. Hopefully Miami provides some better results” 

For Miami, the team had reverted your car back to the original set up, the one it had when the season started. The difference was night and day. The car felt responsive, alive in ways it hadn’t in the past few races. As you flew through all three practice sessions and qualifynig, you could feel the weight lift from your shoulders. You had been pushing the limits all weekend, and it had paid off - P2, only behind Charles. Things were looking up. 

The problem now was the strategy. As the number two driver, you knew your strategies were mostly going to be defend defend defend but you didn’t realize how badly Ferrari’s lack of adaptability would come into play 

The race was shaping up to be intense. Charles had led most of it, with Max behind him. You were right behind Max, keeping a steady pace, but always aware of the massive pressure from the drivers behind. Then, when Charles pitted, you thought, for sure, you’d get the green light to battle Max for the lead. After all, you were right there, in prime position.

Instead, the radio crackled to life. 

“Y/n keep defending. Leclerc will be back up there in no time.” Your engineer said

You blinked, incredulous. “I’m sorry what?” You couldn’t believe what you just heard. 

“Defend Max. Charles will be back up there to take over. Hold your position” he repeated as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Are you fucking serious?” you barked back, your grip tightening on your steering wheel. “I can overtake him for the lead and you want me to defend?!” 

Before your engineer could respond, Mattia’s voice boomed over your radio “Defend y/n. Team orders.” 

You could feel your irritation building, but there was no choice. Ferrari had spoken. You stayed behind Max, holding position, and waiting for Charles to catch up. Sure enough, Charles had soon found his way back to you, but by that point, Max was far enough ahead that any shot at victory was all but lost. 

Later, in the media pen, you stood with the press surrounding you, microphones, shoved in your face. They asked you the usual questions, but you were still stewing over what had happened. 

“Yeah, I mean the car felt great” You started, trying to keep your tone even. “We reverted back to the original, pre-upgrades and the car showed it’s worth”

The reporter pressed further. “Now even though the car was great, why do you think you couldn’t pull off the win? You were less than a second behind Max, and chose to defend your position instead of attacking.”

A disappointed sigh escaped your lips. You were tired of repeating the same frustrations. “If it was up to me, I would have attacked. I know we would’ve gotten a different result on the podium today. If we had a different strategy, then we would have gotten many more points.” 

“How do you think this result is going to impact the championships?” another reporter asked 

You paused, considering the question. “It could make or break it. There’s a large jump of points between one, two and three, and one thrown away strategy can make or break a shot at either championship. I’m just hoping they don’t mess up Charles’ strategies like they have mine.” 

As you finished your media duties, you made your way back to the garage, expecting to be alone with your thoughts. But to your surprise, Charles was waiting for you.  

“What are you doing here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached

“I, uh, wanted to congratulate you on P3. You had a good race out there” He said sheepishly, his hands shoved in his pockets.

You shrugged, the weight of the day still on you. “I could have won if my strategy wasn’t total shit.” you muttered, your tone flat.

Charles let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it. P1 and P2 would have been great, but strategy isn’t Ferrari’s strong suit” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours with a shared understanding.

“So I’ve learned.” you replied dryly. “I just hope it isn’t bad enough to fuck up winning either championship” 

He nodded, a look of quiet concern in his eyes. “So do I. I’m terrified my shot at a driver’s championship is gonna slip away” 

Before you knew it, your interview was trending all over social media. Clips of you talking about the strategy missteps were circulating, and the Tifosi and general F1 fans alike were all over it. They didn’t believe you. They thought you were complaining, too bitter about the loss, and some even accused you of undermining the team. The backlash was stiff.

User1: there’s no way they’re going to mess up the golden boy’s strategy. Mattia cares too much about winning to do that

User2: y/n doesn’t know racing. She’s obviously going to get the shit strategy - she’s not charles 

User3: Ferrari needs to get rid of her. She doesn’t belong here #burnthebitch

Before media day in Spain, you got called into Mattia’s office. 

“Thank you for joining me on such quick notice y/n” Mattia said with a smile as you walked in 

You gave him a polite smile as you sat across from his desk “Of course. Why did you call me in?” 

The smile on his face instantly hardened “We need to talk about how you approach the media. You embarrassed myself, along with the rest of the Ferrari staff during Miami.” 

You found yourself fixing your posture and dropping the smile you had previously, prepared to go toe to toe with your principal. “I would say I told the truth on how the race was handled. We could have left Miami with eleven more points, had we gone P1 and P2”

Mattia sighed “That may be true, but we know you couldn’t have battled Max safely. Regardless, that was two weeks ago. We need to focus on Spain now.” 

“Whatever” You mutter “ If we provide sufficient results, I’ll give you praise. If we don’t, I’ll keep mentioning what needs to be done better. Simple as that” 

Spain turned out better for you than it did for Charles. You had finished P4, while Charles was forced to retire. Another blow for Ferrari. 

Both of you managed to score points in Monaco. The car felt good and it seemed like the team was back to how they were at the start of the season. That is until Baku. 

The start of the race seemed like it was going well. The practices and qualifying went well. Charles was on pole and you were not far behind him at P4. But that’s when the good luck ended. Just like the Australian Grand Prix, your brakes were faulty, and this time your clutch wasn’t working. 

“Check the hydraulics - brakes aren’t working again and clutch is out.” You voiced over the radio, concern filling your words 

After a few moments of silence, your engineer’s voice filled your ears. “Seems we have a uh hydraulic problem. You need to retire the car.” 

You muttered a curse as you found a spot to pull your car off. If it wasn’t a strategy issue, it was the car. If it wasn’t the car, it was something else. Something always had to go wrong. 

It was only lap eight and Charles was still driving. You had some hope he could get points for the team and for his championship. 

Throwing on a spare headset in the Ferrari garage, you watched as Charles battled through the streets of Baku. Just as quick as he was driving, the problems with his car also began to show. He had to retire only a handful of laps later with a power problem. 

While Ferrari’s golden boy wouldn’t have a negative thing to say about them during the pressers, you had much less of a filter. 

“You can mark my words that we aren’t winning a championship this year. As much as I want to put faith into our team and our strategies, we’ve shown time and time again we come up short.” 

Instead of your remarks being pushed aside by everyone, you found yourself in the spotlight. All eyes were on you as you walked into the paddock for the British Grand Prix. You acknowledged your team out of respect, and they greeted you back, but you could tell there was tension. 

“Mattia wanted me to tell you that the strategy for today is the same as usual: protect Charles.” Your engineer told you as the two of you sat down for lunch

You furrowed your eyebrows “Why couldn’t Mattia tell me that himself?” 

“He doesn’t think you deserve his time and energy” He said, rolling his eyes 

A scoff left your lips “That’s ridiculous. We’re both adults. He needs to act like it.” 

“You’re telling me” Your engineer muttered 

Before you knew it, it was lights out at Silverstone. The race was a disaster for everyone. While a scary crash had been cleaned up, leading to a restart, another safety car was put out for a stopped car. 

“Y/n box box” Your engineer spoke through your earbuds 

Under the safety car, you were able to pit and get fresh soft tires. When the race resumed, you quickly found yourself behind Charles. 

“Am I defending again?” You asked 

“You are free to overtake, but you must give up the position once Charles gets back up after pitting” 

“You mean Charles didn’t box under the safety car?” 

“Correct.” 

“Fucking idiots” You sighed, but did as you were told. 

Charles easily gave up the front position to you as he headed to the pit lane. You expected him to make a quick comeback in the next few laps, but as the laps ticked by, the gap remained. The radio crackled with instructions from your engineer, and you kept your focus, pushing through. 

And just like that, you crossed the finish line. Your first Grand Prix victory. 

The celebrations were a blur - the podium, the champagne, the flashing cameras. As the trophy was handed to you, you felt a surge of pride, but the weight of the race still hung in the air. Charles had been a force throughout the race, and even though you had won, it felt wrong that he hadn’t been able to capitalize on his pace. 

After the post-race formalities wrapped up, you found yourself in Charles’ room, finally able to breathe. He greeted you with a grin, the kind that only someone who experienced a dramatic race could wear.

“Congratulations! First win!” Charles said, his voice full of enthusiasm 

“You should have fucking won that and we both know it.” You said as you tossed him a Gatorade 

Charles caught the bottle with a small chuckle, cracking it open “You’re fucking telling me.” he said, taking a long swing. “At least Mattia didn’t chastise you on national TV.” 

You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed. “Maybe we’ll both be off speaking terms with him by the end of the season,” you joked, but there was no humor in the situation. “But seriously, what did he say?” 

Charles groaned, clearly not looking forward to recounting the conversation “Basically that I needed to listen to team orders. He was pissed that I was pissed that I didn’t win the thing. Said I needed to trust that the team knows what they’re doing.”

“They know what they’re doing?” You raised an eyebrow “Because the last time I checked, they’ve messed up both of our races this season” 

“Tell me about it” His tone shifted, frustration building, “I need him out.” 

A small grin tugged at the corner of your mouth “Twenty bucks he’s out of his job by the end of the season” 

Charles hesitated for a moment, then extended his hand “Deal” 

The rest of the season trudged along, with highs and lows in the car, the strategy, and the relationship between Mattia and his drivers. There were some days he would be all over their radios encouraging them, while others he would avoid them like the plague. 

And sure enough, once Abu Dhabi came, Charles and Ferrari were so far behind Max and Red Bull that it was impossible to catch up to them in either championship. Mattia announced that he would be stepping down at the end of the season, and you had repaired your rocky relationship with your team, allowing you to renew your contract with Ferrari. 

It was the final time in the media pen this season, and it felt much different. The usual questions about the ups and downs of the season were there, but now they came with a certain respect - respect for the struggles you had endured and for the candidness with which you handled it all. Your honest take on Ferrari’s performance had earned its fair share of criticism, but it had also sparked conversations, both within the paddock and among fans. 

The final question from the reporter hit differently. The interviewer’s tone wasn’t mocking, but rather filled with a certain curiosity. “How does it feel to know that you had called it earlier in the season, that Ferrari weren’t going to win either championship this year?”

The question hung in the air for a moment as you processed it. The emotions of the entire season flashed through your mind: the excitement of the podiums early on, the disappointment after races like Miami and Baku, the frustrations with the strategies, and the battles you fought on and off the track. It had been a rollercoaster, and while it hadn’t turned out the way you had hoped, you were still standing. 

You cracked a smile as you spoke, a mix of pride and exhaustion “Oh, so you guys believe me now?” you said, your voice light but laced with the weight of everything that had happened. “Have a good winter break. I’ll see you in Bahrain” 

It was the moment of closure you needed. The reporter thanked you for your time, before wishing you a good break as well. As you walked away from the media pen with Charles by your side, the season’s tension finally seemed to release, at least for a moment. 

Charles, sensing the mood, nudged you. “That was… honestly, impressive. You know, calling it before anyone else.” 

You let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess I had a feeling.” you said, shrugging. “At least I wasn’t wrong.”

Charles smirked, clearly tired but also relieved that the season was over. “Let’s just hope next year’s a little less… chaotic, yeah?”

“Agreed.”

[greenplumbboblover]

[WIP] Lyralei's Pose addon - Part 2

(See previous post: Click me!)

First things first, MASSIVE thanks to @thesweetsimmer111 for all the help to make this work better and sharing her knowledge on Track masks with me (and the world!)

👀 Better Look at (with reactions!)

Maybe it’s just me, but I used to get endlessly frustrated when Sims wouldn’t properly turn their heads to face an item. So, I set out on a little mission to make their head movements more natural! Unfortunately, that didn’t go as planned—turns out EA’s code for the “Look At” feature is completely deprecated and no longer functional.

Knowing I couldn’t just code a fix, I had to explore other approaches. That’s when @thesweetsimmer111 came up with a brilliant solution: blending left, right, up, and down poses to create a more convincing look-at effect! 🎉

(See: Post)

What's different?

Here's the original pose, without Look at turned on....

On the left, we got VA's original look at.

On the right is what Savanita and I came up with! :)

don’t want to make it seem like the original Look At feature was awful—it actually works pretty well in some cases! For example, in this pose, if the plant were on the other side, the difference wouldn’t be that noticeable since her head is already tilted slightly. 😊

(Same layout again: Left = VA's, Right = Me and Savanita's approach)

Plus, maybe you do want something more subtle, then VA's Look at is great!

Anyways! Of course, I couldn't stop there! Now, your sim has a few options of turning towards the object:

(Note, this list will get 10x cooler in the next feature ;D)

This list is what the "trackmasks" are. :)

Okay, let's give "Eyes Only" a try. So, we expect Morgana to ONLY look at the plant, with her eyes.

(Left is before using look at, Right is with look at, and one up for fun-cies)

And, to please @nocturnalazure's wishes, yep! It now accepts Facial Expressions! :D

(I never would've thought I would see Evil Morgana lmao)

🎭Blending Poses/Reactions

After Savanita's amazing idea of using Track Masks, I found out that I can apply that same technique on, well, poses! And this is a feature I'm SUPER proud of (And honestly, it's taken me an entire week to get working 🙃)

First things first, when we choose the interaction, we will first be greeted by our "trackmask" list with all the selections on it

So, I made a few examples to show of what you could do, but in all fairness, it's endless!

Here I chose the option "Both Arms".

Here I chose "Head And Neck". Look! She even has the expression! (Don't worry though, i also have an expression-less version in the making ;))

What about... Animations?!

While blending poses has the ability to also type in your pose names by name, rather than list, you can also use EA's!

The list is pretty long ( believe 200 entries?) but here is a sneak peek:

Though, as far as I've been able to tell, EA reactions aren't as flexible, where I can tell it to only use the arms, or the eyes. Instead, we got these options:

So, unless I found a way to get around it, this is the only way to do it.

But without further ado....

Here I used the same pose(left) as the last 2 pictures, but with "OverlayHead". And chose "Boo"

(I just realised it looks like she is about to get hit by a ball lol)

🕰️ History List

The Add-on now remembers your pose history!

Whether you’re a dedicated “Pose by Name” user or prefer the simplicity of “Show by List”, both options now display your pose history for quick reference.

Note: Each Sim has their own individual history list. This means you’ll only see the pose history for Sim X when clicking on them, and not for Sim Y.

📓What's up next?

Adding all the trackmask. (I still need add the hands and legs ones)

Adding an in-game Category maker, so you don't have to edit the XML. It will mean you need to replace the XML file in S3PE yourself. But I can always make a quick How-To for guidance 😉

(Note to self) Optimize the Categorisation code. It's currently taking 1 minute up from the loading screen 😬)

Fixing some minor bugs where Look at will still turn the sim's head back to it's original position.

Fixing some issues where Blending poses with certain track masks aren't working well or at all.

Fixing an issue where the dialogs can crash the whole game (woops!)

Sooo, I think a release date is pretty soon! I think within a week :)

Any VA Addon Bug Fixes?

Of course! It's the mod that inspired me to make stories, and even get to make this mod! I couldn't just... leave it to collect dust while it's other child mod is getting all the attention. :p

Changelog:

There is now an interaction that uses both look at & reaction simultaneously. (In case you don't want to use my look at interaction).

Fixed an issue where reactions would sometimes or never show on the sim.

Fixed an issue where using "Random Quick Poses" would occasionally show a breathing sim, doing nothing.

Fixed an issue where certain poses get called twice, making it harder to keep reactions or even look at history data.

Some minor code changes that aren't worth mentioning honestly.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (1)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

Emily Scott, sister of legendary lionesses Jill Scott, has died at the age of 21. Wife Amelia Scott-Higgins in intensive care. 

Police have confirmed that Emily Scott was murdered in her family home over the weekend, her wife, Matilda’s star Amelia Scott-Higgins is in intensive care after sustaining life threatening injuries. 

Waking up in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and in heaps of pain was not exactly how I expected my day to go but here we are. I don’t remember much. I remember going home after training, I stopped to get dinner, chicken carbonara and garlic bread from our favourite Italian restaurant and then flowers from the corner stand that Emily was obsessed with. I was already late so who cares if I was a little extra late. 

I remember the front gate being open, which is never normally the case, I remember the front door being unlocked but closed, again not normal but sometimes Em is in a rush when she gets home. As I took my shoes and coat off and wandered down the hallway, I didn’t notice the guy standing behind the door, or the guy on the couch, or Emily in the back room tied to a chair. I didn’t notice any of it. The only thing I noticed before it went black was the two wine glasses, one tipped over and smashed, the other full. 

Chelsea FC superstar, Amelia Scott-Higgins has QUIT mid season. 

CLICK TO READ MORE….

Where is football superstar Amelia Scott-Higgins?

Moving to Barcelona was the best thing I could’ve done. No one knows me,no one knows what happened or who Emily was. I am invisible. As soon as I could, I quit, left England, deleted all my social media and changed my number. 

The rehab was incredibly hard. That’s to be expected considering I have multiple stab wounds to my stomach, my leg cut up, bruises covering every part of my body. I was still me though. Maybe not on the surface but deep down I was. I missed Emily everyday, I missed our life together, I miss the little things. 

My apartment was empty. Nothing on the walls, plain furniture, it looked more like a show house than something someone would actually lived in. It didn’t bother me, it made my brain have to work less. All I did was rehab, surf and doom scroll. I came across the Manuelas instagram page, a gay bar in Barcelona. From what I’ve heard it’s incredibly popular but I’ve never been. They had a shirt available, “lesbian services”, after inquiring they allowed for me to pick it up. 

I was meeting someone called Olga, slightly worried as I had no idea who she was, I let it play out. 

“Hola! Are you Amelia?” 

“Hola, yes I am.” 

“Perfect! I’m Olga! Let me take you inside and you can get whatever you want. They said you’ve paid so you can get anything.” 

Stickers, hats, shirts, they had it all. I grabbed one of everything and then had a chat with Olga. 

“You’re not around here are you? Your Catalan and Spanish is good but the accent is a bit weird.” 

“Oh nah. I’m Australian. Lived in London for a few years but I’m here now.” 

“Oh wow! How long have you lived here?”

“3 years now. It’s beautiful. I don’t get out much but I’m trying to get out more.”

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Uh um, I used to play -“ 

“Amelia? Is that you?” Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze. Right in front of me. I haven’t seen them for 3 years, purposely ignoring all of them and essentially falling off the face of the earth. 

“Amelia! What are you doing here? Give me a hug!” 

“Hey guys. Long time so see.” This is not what I wanted. More and more people started surrounding us. 

“Holy shit. That’s Amelia Scott-Higgins! She’s been MIA for so long. I miss watching her” the short one with dimples tried to whisper, it didn’t work. 

“Dude she used to be so good. What happened?” Her taller companion asked next. 

“That’s enough you two. She has ears and can hear you idiots.” Alexia Putellas. 2 time Ballon d’or and 2 time pain in my ass. “Hola Amelia. How are you?” 

“Fine thanks Alexia. And you?” 

“How do you all know each other? I am very confused here.” Olga spoke up. 

“Mil used to play for-“ Alexia started to say

“We are old friends!” This is why I don’t leave my house. 

“I need to go. I have things to do. Olga thank you so much for all this. If I owe any money let me know. Alexia, girls, it was nice to see you. Good luck this season.” Turning as quickly as I could to escape. 

“Milly, wait.”

“Kei, don’t. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Please can I have your number or something? It’s been 3 years and you disappeared.” 

“Give me your phone and I’ll put it in. I’m not good at replying. Bye Kei.” 

3 years since I stepped foot in England, 3 years since I buried my wife. 3 years since I’d spoken to my friends. 4 years since Emily died. 4 years since I played football, 4 years since I felt normal. 

[scribescrawls]

Transformers One setting, I like to headcanon that the 50 cycles when the High Guard were being hunted down were rough especially as energon no longer flowed. Now imagine soon after the events of the movie when Megatron is with the rest of the High Guard at their new base that’s still half being set up, Starscream or one of the others will just mention something extremely wild that happened to them casually to each other that it makes Megatron go “that can’t possibly be real” or “for your sake I really hope you’re lying”. For instance, imagine Starscream trying to actually impart some surface survival skills to their new leader and points to a set of weird looking plants/grass growing out of the planet and Starscream is like “if you’re ever extremely desperate and stranded with no energon sources wandering wastelands on the brink of shutting down, you can eat these as a last resort. It will give you the energy to stay online, but be careful. It’s best to only consume it if you have someone with you who can tie you up and carry you. I recommend taking shifts so you can keep moving forward”.

Megatron, confused: Wait why would I need someone to tie me up and carry me?

Starscream: Side effects. I mean it about it being a last resort. It makes you not yourself. Feral, aggressive, and a potential danger to both yourself and others. Then the hallucinations start setting in. You start hearing and seeing things. The visions are different for everyone, but rarely are they pleasant. And the feeling of it finally burning out of your system at the end hurts like a glitch.

Megatron: How do you even know for sure that’s what it does?

Starscream: First hand experience. But one day it could save your life so remember it.

Megatron, doubtful if Starscream is telling the truth, but morbidly curious: What did you hear and see?

Starscream: Have you ever seen the dead come back to life wrong and their face plates slowly melting off as you hear the dying screams of bots long past?

Megatron: No…

Starscream: Let’s try to keep it that way.

He wonders if maybe Starscream is just messing with him or trying to scare him about the surface, but then he turns his head to see Shockwave and Soundwave nodding seriously and confirming Starscream’s statements.

Shockwave, referring to Starscream: I used to have dents in my old arm from when he bit me under its effects. Of course I can’t show you since that was on my old arm before I lost and replaced it later down the line.

Megatron: Wait that’s not your original arm? What happened to it?

Shockwave, casually with no context: Oh Starscream cut it off. I don’t hold it against him though, it was the logical thing to do at the time.

Megatron is just like wtf were you guys doing in those 50 cycles?! In what circumstances does cutting off someone’s arm make logical sense?! Poor Megatron is probably wondering if it’s not too late to run back to Iacon.

I just like the idea that during those 50 cycles the High Guard were going through the Horrors™.

[halfwayhearted]

Maps — Jobe Bellingham.

Pairing: Jobe Bellingham x Fem!Reader

Summary: Noticing the not-so-subtle stares of the man you wanted but couldn’t have was something you despised.

Word Count: 775+

Disclaimer/s — Slight angst-ish… argument, that’s it.

A/N: The idea I originally had for this like, left my mind in the middle of writing so the ending is so ohr… rushed… hey. Hey!

Why couldn’t he make up his mind? Did he want you? Did he not? It was like holding a flower and delicately picking off the petals, playing the game of ‘he loves me,’ ‘he loves me not.’ It was tiring.

You didn’t know, nor could you tell. It was enough to make you lose it. Spending seconds, minutes, and hours on the situation only to push it aside. Telling yourself not to keep this going. But how could you do that when he always made you feel like you could actually mean something to him?

It pissed you off more than you cared to admit.

What pissed you off even more was the fact that Jobe was staring at you from across the room, his fingers running over his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed while the guy you were speaking to let out a laugh at something you had said. Seriously?

You told yourself that you were fine, you could do this. Don’t let him get to you. He wasn’t worth it.

Maybe you would have listened to your own advice if the man in front of you hadn’t stiffened and asked, “You know who that is over there?”

Already knowing who he was referring to, you refrain from sighing and instead excuse yourself. Wasting no time, you stride toward the man who slowly smirks up at you. Oh, you hated him.

“What the hell are you trying to accomplish?” You snap, your gaze never leaving his even when he stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“I’m not trying to ‘accomplish’ anything.” Oh boy, he was insufferable! You couldn’t stand him at all.

Yet you still couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away when he gently grasps your forearms and guides you to a secluded area outside, thinking it was because your voice was raising and he didn’t want anyone to focus their attention on the both of you.

The second you’re aware that it’s just the two of you, you inhale sharply. “If you think you can just ghost me for days on end and then stare at anybody who’s even an inch in my vicinity the way you’re staring, then you’re wrong,” you snap, hands clenching. “Is it really that hard to make up your mind? I don’t—I don’t get you at all, Jobe!”

When he opens his mouth to speak, you quickly continue, “I will not wait for someone who doesn’t know what or who they want. I just won’t.”

After a few seconds pass, Jobe just simply stares at you, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, as if he’s contemplating how to handle the situation.

“Of course,” you scoff. “Whatever—I’m done.” Turning around, you’re about to walk away when he lets out a sigh and tugs you back toward him, making you roll your eyes and take a step back.

The man wets his lips, “I do know what I want.”

“Do you? Then tell me, what is it that you want?”

“You,” he responds almost instantly, making you suck in a breath. But you won’t give in that easily.

“Your way of showing it could use a little work.”

Taking a step toward you, he speaks once again, “Listen—I was… stupid before. I’m sure now.”

“You say you can’t be with me. Then you say that you won’t be able to be with me. Now I’m who you want? I don’t need you playing in my face.”

How did he go about this? You wouldn’t believe him. Rightfully so. Now that he was finally here and able to admit how he felt, he couldn’t help but feel that he was too late. Was he too late?

“What can I do?” He questions, his tone of voice quiet and soft. “Tell me what I can do; I’ll do it.”

Your eyes narrow. He was telling the truth, indeed he was. It didn’t even matter to you. Not anymore.

That’s what you kept telling yourself, but his next words changed your mind in an instant: “Will you have dinner with me? Let me just prove it to you.”

Let me prove it to you. All the resolve you had mustered up disintegrated into thin air and you found yourself letting out a sigh, “One dinner.”

“One dinner?” He echoes. “That’s—okay. Deal.”

Right, deal. You give Jobe one last look before walking past him. Once he’s alone, he starts coming up with different plans for your dinner. This is his one chance to prove to you that he’s, well, sorry and that you’re the one he wants.

And the man will make sure to prove both to you.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[kirkodiletears]

This used to be a part of a post, but I decided to make it into a separate one, because it speaks of crusual things for understanding SVSSS, it's plot and it's characters.

As I found out recently, there's a huge misunderstanding going on in the English-speaking segment, probably dew to an English translation of SVSSS (only a speculation, I myself never had this problem, although I read in several other languages as well, so I can compare) concerning the fact whether or not PIDW was originally planned by Airplane as a yaoi with bingqiu as an OTP. (Spoiler: yes, it was). Some readers are mislead by two quotes, that they take as a contradictory, which in truth, they are NOT.

The first one is from a Chapter "The story begins". It is the last chapter of the novel, after this the extras start. And this particular chapter is a culmination: this is where the truth is reveled. Like in a detective story, where we finally find out, who the killer is. This meant to become a real "bomb", that makes a reader go WOOOW!!! And this is THE KEY for understanding the whole story: the plot and the characters, especially Luo Bing-mei (and Luo Bing-ge). And it speaks about the original INTENTIONS of the Airplane, that he betrayed in order to please the crowd and that came true in the universe of the System. (original scrapped outline(c))

The second quote, from the extras, on the other hand speaks of an EXISTING PIDW, (original outline(c)), that he actually wrote, but never finished, because he died and woke up in the Universe of the System. And it gives us a glimpse into the way he planned to finish it.

The first quote, from the final chapter:

Shen Qingqiu looked him up and down. “You don’t look crushed at all after all this foolish messing around ended up completely changing your own novel.”

Shang Qinghua said, “You can’t say it like that ah. Maybe you think it’s just all foolish messing around that isn’t worth a damn, but for Bing-ge, your foolish messing around is probably the meaning of this entire world.”

... holy s***, Great God Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was able to say something like that?!

Shen Qingqiu was terrified. “F***. You didn’t turn back into the original character, did you?”

Shang Qinghua said seriously, “Don’t be like that. I’m also a young person with literary ideals. Of course, I have my own reflections and emotions.”

Shen Qingqiu laughed coldly. “What literary ideals? How come all I saw in the original work was shameless fanservice?” Not to mention his hand speed that could produce ten thousand words a day, and the courage to even occasionally explode with twenty thousand. If he didn’t have such equipment, there was no way 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》 would have been able to hold out before it was serialized!

Shang Qinghua spread his hands. “You think that I always wrote shameless content that lacked any integrity from the very start? I’ve also written belles-lettres4 before, but they were all unpopular, so I had no choice but to go down a path that catered to the masses. It must be said that writing novels is a very lonely undertaking. Rather than writing a stallion male protagonist who’ll be stereotypical in the end, it’s more in line with my philosophy for writing to create the current Bing-ge━this kind of weirdo male protagonist whose character is a bit more complicated, has contradictions and conflicts, and has a rough destiny.”

Shen Qingqiu concluded, “So, your philosophy for writing is to write about gay guys?”

Shang Qinghua: “Do you look down upon gay male protagonists? Works of art and artists all like to create gay guys. Belles-lettres favors gays, do you know that?”

He waved his arms wildly and passionately. “Cucumber Bro, if the System hadn’t chosen you, this faithful die-hard reader, perhaps the plot wouldn’t have deviated so thoroughly, thoroughly to the point that it deviated all the way back to my original scrapped outline. Even though the me back in reality━who couldn’t endure the loneliness and was under financial pressure━chose to finish writing 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》 according to other people’s preferences and what they found cool... now, all thanks to you, essentially everything that I wanted to write has already unfolded in front of my eyes. Cucumber Bro!”

He patted Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders with deep sentiment and solemnity. “You... are the chosen one; as for my career, I have no more regrets!”

... why did it sound like the System and this world were both products of Shang Qinghua’s resentment over scrapping that outline and going with what was mainstream?

Shen Qingqiu, who shamefully became this kind of “chosen one”: “Who’s your faithful die-hard reader?”

Shang Qinghua waved his hand and one-sidedly declared his victory. “I’m not going to talk to you; you’re an anti-fan.”

Shen Qingqiu was about to say, “I’m only an anti, not a fan!” when he suddenly heard Shang Qinghua starting crooning something like, “Emotions are warm, kindness hard to bear, lips moving together, desires turning the evening to the next morning, never resting from dawn to dusk.” The crucial point was that melody, which sounded extremely familiar to the point that it made Shen Qingqiu’s hands and teeth itch. He pointed at him and said, “Shang Qinghua, what are you singing?”

Shang Qinghua continued to croon. “The warmth of emotions makes gratitude hard to bear. Lips to lips, locked in a kiss. Let this night linger ‘til tomorrow’s dawn. Day after day, night after night; never to end. Will tomorrow be another today? When ‘til Zheng Yang reaches its zenith? As Zheng Yang ascends, the voice of Autumn stirs. A sheathless Xiu Ya, a spurt of cold nectar. Tragic pleas amidst choked sobs, thus in vain; for he rises again5...”

Shen Qingqiu was in disbelief. “F*** you—why don’t you just try and sing another line?”

Shang Qinghua said, “Great Lord Shen, why aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? You must never go around casually f***ing people. Bing-ge will go crazy. I’m telling you, this Resentment of Chunshan is equivalent to Shi Ba Mo6. You two are the legendary national homos, do you understand? I have no problems with you shutting me up, but ultimately it’s useless. You can’t possibly make all the countless people in the world shut up...” (NB, Ch 81)

The second quote, from the extras:

【 Basic completion of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s original outline achieved (slight deviation in romance plotline); objective complete. Retrieving function to return to original world; download complete. Activate Return Home sequence? 】 Basic completion of the original outline? That he agreed with. All the holes that needed to be filled had been filled. But this “slight deviation of romance plot” wasn’t quite right. Bing-ge was now fully gay; how could you say that was a “slight deviation”? Ah, fine, fine, in fact, in his original outline, Bing-ge hadn’t even had a romance plotline; he had been doomed to fade away, alone and unaging forever. If you insisted on adding a romance plotline, all right, that was whatever, so putting aside all the System’s rambling…this meant he could return to his original world?! (Seven Seas, Ch. 26)

Basic completion of the original outline and filling it's plotholes - THIS is what's talked about in this quote! Not the scrapped original outline!

The English translation, which I only read recently, in my opinion is not very clear, in comparison to, for example, Russian translations, and not just the most popular version by Псой и Сысой, for ex: there are more than one, and they all pretty much nailed it. 感情线 used in original (that's what, apparently, caused the doubts for some reason, in spite that the quote itself absolutely clearly speaks of 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》’s original outline, the one big "error of a novel", that needed to be redressed, and not the scrapped original outline that never saw the daylight) itself refers to a "romantic plotline". So the author himself tells you, that his original Bing-ge had none. But how come? Why is that? Bing-ge, as we know, has got a huge harem, he for sure cannot be the case of dying alone without love!.. Or can he? Apparently, this is exactly his fate - no love. And the Airplane, the way he planned the original scrapped outline, knows better than anyone else - there's, well, none. The Protagonist's harem is nothing to do with romance whatsoever (see the quote below from the forum as an example, what the readers of PIDW themselves think of the relationship between Bing-ge and his harem). It all has to do with protagonists coolness and power and getting everything, including all the women, because he is super powerful and he is the center of that universe. It's about power, it's about lust, it's about influence and control, and showing, who the real boss is. But not love or romance. PIDW is not a romantic novel in a slightest: its a third rate pornography and a ode to toxic masculinity, so distasteful and disgusting, that the resentment of it's author with his own creation was powerful enough to create the whole new universe (The System) just to correct it! And this particular quote speaks of Bing-ge not having ANY SIGNIFICANT RELATIONSHIP, LOVE. Псой и Сысой for translating 感情线 in this particular case use much more explicit and profound "заслуживающие упоминания эмоциональные привязанности" ("the emotional connections worth mentioning"), rather than abstract "romantic plotline". Because the only significant person in his life pushed Bing-ge away. (And we know, who that person is, thanks to the System Universe - his shizhun.) Romance has nothing to do with the amount of partners he fucks - they are not of any romantic or emotional significance for Bing-ge. This is how his relationship with the harem is described by the PIDW reader's forum in the novel:

"Airplane really doesn’t know how to write romance plotlines, best if he just doesn’t. I feel like Luo Binghe doesn’t have feelings for any of his wives, he just wants to use them. And I can’t see any of those women with real moving emotion for him. "(NB, Ch. 73)

So - no romance for Bing-ge in PIDW, the Airplane didn't grant him this privilege and happiness. And yes - the ending for the tyrant he's become in PIDW is not happy in a slightest.

So, binqui did not appear out of nowhere, and yes - it has always been there from a beginning, in the core of everything. Implied. This is not only canon: it is the exact essence of it, the base, the foundation, which explaines everything that happens in the novel and even beyond - in PIDW, where the mighty protagonist that has everything, except the only one thing he really needs - the love of his shizun - is doomed to an eternal unhappiness and loneliness.

[celaenaeiln]

are you still doing the post where you explain the ranking?? don’t mean to be impatient i was just wondering! (take your time) <3

@imperatrice21

Hey y'all! You asked and I deliver ;)

Alrighty let's get to it!!

So in THIS POST which is being referred to, I had created a ranking of Bruce's favorites in order from most to least.

And this was the ranking:

Dick

Damian

Cass

Jason/Tim (tie)

Tim/Jason (tie)

Steph

Now lets get into why.

Dick

I don't want to rehash why Dick is the favorite because I went into a lengthy explanation in the referred post as to why. It's not even close, and it's really explicitly stated that Dick's the one that Bruce likes the most. If you haven't read the post or want a refresher, I've already linked it but here it is again - OG POST

Infinite Crisis Issue #3

and also

JLA (1997) Issue #73

"The only time I ever feel pride is when I look at Nightwing. Sometimes I think he's the only thing I ever did right."

When something happens to Bruce, he only tells or trusts Dick with the information of what happened.

Batman and Robin Eternal Issue #1

His only message was addressed to Dick. Like I could go on and on about this, but I feel my other Dick and Bruce posts give a pretty good idea on how Dick is special to Bruce.

And that's where we will leave the blatant adoration for Dick by Bruce and move on to the next person, cause really, 'nuff said.

Damian > Cass > Tim/Jason > Steph

Dami!! I also explained a bit of why Damian is so loved by Bruce through the comparison of Bruce's reaction to Damian death vs Bruce's reaction to Jason's death in the referenced post, but I never talked about why he's the next in line for favoritism.

Rather, it's a process of elimination of who does Bruce not like the least which we can find through how Bruce treats each member of the batfam and reacts to traumatic passings.

6. Stephanie

The least favorite is, unfortunately, very obvious and it's Stephanie.

Why is it obvious? Because Bruce treats Stephanie like utter shit. I have never seen him act so callously to a member of the bat crew aside from Stephanie. He literally didn't even care that Stephanie died in the War Games arc.

He didn't even want Stephanie in the first place, only using her to manipulate Tim back into being Robin because he knew Tim care about her and knew the dangers of being Robin so he wouldn't want her getting her.

Robin (1993) Issue #92

And so she becomes Robin, eventually.

But Bruce and Stephanie have an extremely strenuous relationship. Stephanie is very independent but Bruce like obedience. A long time ago he would have appreciated independence but not anymore, not when the result is death.

On the final mission of Stephanie being robin, Batman gives her repeated orders that she disobeys.

Robin (1993) Issue #128

Bruce becomes completely fed up with her and fires her.

Long story short, Stephanie steals one of Batman's plans for the city that involved Matches Malone. Steph doesn't know that this is one of Bruce's identities and the whole thing quickly goes way out of control and sets off a city-wide bloody war - AKA War Games. Stephanie gets caught by Black Mask who tortures her and she dies from her injuries in Leslie's Clinic when she escapes. But -

Batman (1940) Issue #633

And after this happens, this bitch sits down has a drink with Dick, who woke up from coma or something I can't remember (he was dealing with the aftermath of Tarantula which is why he wasn't around. Also Alfred threatened to kneecap him if he didn't get back on the bed) asks Bruce what he's gonna do -

And what does he do?

Batman (1940) Issue #634

Bitch. This is the only time (the War Games) Dick walked out on him after Bruce asks for help. Fun fact, Leslie intentionally let Stephanie die even though she could have saved her. She let her die to teach Batman a lesson about making kids Robins. It was later retconned that Leslie secretly saved her life but in the original, Stephanie was gone. And Batman straight up did not care.

He didn't care about Stephanie as a person and ignored her passing, completely unaffected.

So that's why Stephanie's 6th on the list.

5. & 4. Tim and Jason (Tie)

I don't want to rehash this again because I truly do not believe I can go into more detail about why they're a tie and who Bruce loves more.

THIS POST I made for anon who asked about the tie will be the answer. But I want to highlight @canthandlethishit 's reblog because in my post had said I didn't know why it feels like Tim was slightly less even though Bruce treated him better.

This line: "there’s a saying “the kid who cries gets the candy/milk” and sometimes being too easy to raise makes a kid receive less love & attention from their parents"

EXCELLENT! Fantastic analysis!!

3. Cass

Cass is tricky because because Bruce doesn't actually have a reason for liking her. He just does. I think what Bruce really loves about her is her dedication to making Gotham good.

Batgirl (2000) Issue #50

Batman & the Outsiders (2019) Issue #17

I think the reason Batman treats her so well is because she acts like a daughter to him. None of his children are so open with wanting affection as Cass is, ironically. And Bruce appreciates that. He's a dad and some part of him, behind all his walls, wants to be needed as dad which Cass does for him. She understands what he wants because she's good at that and loves him because she wants it too. Cass is Bruce's only daughter. So it's a combination of dedication to faith that Gotham City can be better as well as the fact that she's ready to genuinely be a daughter for him.

2. Damian

A big part of it is that he's Bruce's blood son. I know we make jokes about being wanted vs forced or whatever with Damian but Damian's arguments in those jokes do hold.

Aside from Dick, Bruce doesn't react to anyone as strongly as he reacts to Damian. When Damian was dying and died, he lost it. I would provide panels but it's basically the entirety of Batman and Robin (2011).

A part of it, is also that Bruce actually raised Damain. He and Dami struggled with each other for the longest time and still do, but that's his son.

Batman Incorporated (2012) Issue #10

The following panels of Bruce going crazy are, as you probably guess it, in the OG Post and the Eldest Daughter Syndrome Post where I talk a little about the effect Damian's death has on Batman.

[velvetvexations]

Objectively incorrect!

This is Schrodinger, from Hellsing.

Now I've been bewitched by that charming devil for over a decade now, and nothing about him can even vaguely be connected to transfeminity unless you think "kinna twinky boy?" is a transfem thing, which, wow, very transmisogynistic of you.

But could he be an anomaly? Let's try and see if there are more examples.

Convenient!

Not getting a very transfem vibe from this guy.

Oh, is this one wearing some kinna corset?

Oh, no. Just a weird anime jacket thing.

Seems solidly like a boy to me.

A flamboyant and camp boy to be sure, but I'm again going to have to ask if that's your definition of transfem.

my boi should be number one CBR you bunch of hacks

Definitely, unambiguously a man, although CBR notes he does not posses cat features in human form. While you assert that "catboy" is distinct from "boy with animal features," it seems that what people consider a "catboy" actually varies quite a lot, as "with animal features" need not even be part of it!

wearing women’s clothes (often specifically a choker, thigh highs, and a skirt)

Pretty guy-lookin. I guess he's wearing a choker. That's transfemininity, right? Wearing chokers?

"Comedic effect" or not, the HxH fandom has rolled with it and made a ton of fanart of him catboy'd up, and in none of them is he even wearing the Choker of Transfemininity.

Well, I've never seen Fruits Baskets, but it seems like they've hit us with another boy that doesn't have cat features.

Oh, wait.

Yeah, definitely a catboy!

In conclusion, Catgirl-Foreskin your lack of knowledge about otaku culture is galling and I think the most appropriative thing here is your URL because you've clearly glommed onto the idea of "catgirl" without actually knowing anything about the actual culture the catgirl developed in.

Actually, hey, wait a minute.

Something I just realized. Like I literally went this entire post just accepting the premise that the idea of a catgirl originated with transfems, but...

That's obviously incorrect?????

Oh my God. Okay.

I'm sorry Catgirl-Foreskin, it's really rare I get this far into dissecting someone's post for how dumb it is before I realize the foundational logic is completely broken on every possible level. Cute moe catgirls were a thing in anime way before traps. They were always a thing completely separate from whatever 4chan was doing. Holy shit, this is so uncomprehending of basic pop cultural history.

Please learn anything at all about anime before you call yourself a catgirl you extremely, shamefully ignorant person. Like literally, I'm taking your catgirl license away, you have to change your URL to Doggirl-Foreskin within 24 hours. In a month I'll give you a written test to see if you can earn it back.

no, but seriously, you should actually feel humiliated by this

I will say though the catgirl/catboy one is a poor example compared to the other examples you listed. Kemonomimi and like generally the idea of a person with animalistic features have existed for ages and have never really been a gender-exclusive thing? Unless there's something you meant that I'm just not getting? Fwiw I agree with you I'm just confused by that one.

Much like how “guy who is feminine” is distinct from “trap/femboy/sissy” which are a specific transmisogynist archetype, “catboy” is distinct from “guy with animal features.” The “catboy” is an iteration of the previously mentioned transmisogynist caricatures. It is not just “guy with animal features,” it is “‘trap’ with animal features.” It is always young, skinny, feminine, white, wearing women’s clothes (often specifically a choker, thigh highs, and a skirt).

When people started drawing popular streamer Jerma as a “catboy,” it was not drawings of Jerma with cat ears, it was Jerma as a “trap” with cat ears, and when he dressed as one on stream, it was in a woman’s shirt, choker, and skirt. Those aren’t things associated with animals they’re clearly invoking something else, and in both instances the goal is the hypersexualization, degredation, and caricaturization that comes with transfemininity.

[cyb-by-lang]

Cascade (part 8)

Wherein player [x+1] joins the battle.

“Don’t drown him, Gekkō-san.” 

Midoriya seemed less alarmed by Kei’s choices and more just resigned. She’d already demonstrated to his satisfaction that nobody died in her watery doom constructs unless she wanted them to. Else the USJ would’ve had a lot fewer arrested villains and a lot more body bags than just the big one.

At least it gave them data on how the Nōmu guys worked. Still, Kei nodded. “I won’t. Oh, and Iida-kun?” 

Iida couldn’t turn his face away to hide from her, thanks to whatever Stain’s Quirk was, but he did close his eyes. It was all he could do. 

Maybe it would help to hear this. Maybe it wouldn’t. But Kei could at least be honest this once. “You already know I’d kill him.” And that got Iida to look up. Just with his eyes. “If this man targeted my little brother, he’d be dead.” 

And her hold on Stain’s throat never changed, despite that. 

Iida’s expression was a terrible whirl of turmoil. Like he couldn’t believe Kei’s blatant hypocrisy any more than Stain’s fragmented philosophy. Whatever he’d been forced to listen to before Midoriya and Kei showed up, at least. “But—”

“I don’t pretend that’s a good thing. Just a human one.” And not something they should be discussing here. 

Even if Kei had no actual intention of letting Stain go free, she had to at least pretend to care about procedures. If Obito recovered from his Kamui overuse and returned to the greater Tokyo metropolitan area tonight, Kei figured shoving the problem off on him was a decent backup plan. After, say, the police or heroes. Obito would remember not to kill the guy, right?

And then there was someone running their way. It wasn’t until the blue shape in the dark got closer that Kei heard a familiar voice shout, “Midoriya!” 

While most of their group either couldn’t move on their own (Iida, Native) or had more immediate problems (Kei, Stain), Midoriya did jump to his feet and wave. “Todoroki-kun! You got my message?”

“For reference,” Todoroki continued as he arrived and took in the scene of moderate carnage and a lot of awkward standing around, “try to give more information than just a location next time.” 

Though there was fire trailing up his left side and frost coating his right sleeve, he didn’t look like he’d been hurt. Just like he’d had to run all the way here, fully anticipating a fight when he arrived. Instead, he got to see a bit of a clown show instead. 

Kei shrugged when Todoroki aimed a silent question her way. She still had the armed—yes, his knife and sword were still drawn—Hero Killer in a Water Prison, it was polite of Todoroki to notice.

At least, Todoroki asked, “Did all of this happen in just five minutes?”

“Oh, y-yeah. Sorry about only using a pin, but that was all the time we had.” Midoriya didn’t bow, but it looked like a close call. “Thanks for heading here so fast, though!” 

“Not fast enough,” said Todoroki, clearly taking note of the blood still present on the ground. Sure, Kei had gotten Native away from his original bloodstain, but Midoriya didn’t have enough bandages for him and for Iida, and one of Iida’s injuries was dangerously close to an artery. 

“I think showing up before the villain kills everyone is good enough,” Kei said, and rotated the Water Prison so Stain could breathe again. When Todoroki took a step closer, possibly to freeze the villain in place, Kei held up her free hand. “I’ve got him, Todoroki-kun. Help the others, please.” 

Todoroki sighed, and the result was an icy fog. “All right.”

While getting Iida bandaged was a trial without him being able to cooperate, Stain’s Quirk wore off while Todoroki and Midoriya were trying to figure out where the catches in his shoulder pauldron were. In short order, the three boys managed to get upright and talked mostly to each other in low, sharp tones. From what Kei overheard, Midoriya filled Todoroki in on everything he’d missed. Iida, meanwhile, got two lectures right over Native’s head once all the information laid bare between them. 

Iida may have been crying. Kei focused on Stain to give him plausible deniability if needed. 

Honestly, Kei would’ve left them to it. She didn’t have anything helpful to say that they couldn’t handle without her. No canned phrases or quaint sayings. All she had was a careful balance of truth shrouded by lies and omissions, neither of which relied solely on her. Staying standoffish for most of the school year so far—barring the 1-A girls’ friendship blitz—was a good stealth strategy on paper, but it retained some key flaws. Like her total inability to comfort any of these kids after a traumatic encounter. 

What I wouldn’t give for a shock blanket—

Do you hear that? Isobu interrupted, kicking Kei back into full alertness. Like the menagerie he was, half-a-dozen animal instincts all clamored for Kei’s attention at once. 

Iida shouted, “Gekkō—!” just as lightning descended from the sky. 

[cordycepsbian]

pitching our idea for past leif and muse as a hologram boss. the potential background for this being a Thing that can happen is that hb realizes the b.o.s.s could read the crystals inside of leif and when they try to do that this is what happens

their main gimmick is that muse has a bug ton of hp and 2 defense, and leif has much lower hp and no defense, but leif can't be attacked while muse is still standing or else she'll move to shield them. in addition to this leif will use items to heal muse and give her positive status effects

muse attacks exactly the way you'd expect her to, primarily just by kicking. she can do a normal single hit kick or a special one that knocks the target down, followed by a stomp (like mothiva does). she can also do a dash attack that, if unblocked, knocks the target down and lowers their defense for a turn after. finally, she can charge for a turn, and then do a spin/kick attack that hits the whole party

leif is mostly support, but can also attack by throwing a few items, or the book that they're holding. the items that they can throw can inflict sticky or ink status (especially sucks if they throw an ink bomb on the same turn muse charges. no bubble shield!) they also have a completely unique "attack" where they can spy on your party and say something about you!

"That bee looks awful young to be fighting, but she wields that boomerang quite well. Maybe I should invest in a weapon. Her attacks are difficult to block, but she's no harder to hit than any of the others. Muse will make quick work of her." "This beetle has quite the protective aura about him. I can tell he doesn't take kindly to his friends being hurt. That horn looks like it could pierce some tough armor, too... but he still won't be a match for Muse." "What an interesting creature. It looks almost exactly like me... but it's the wrong color. It has quite strong magic, so perhaps it's some sort of glamour? Either way, I trust Muse to see through the veil and strike it down."

if you beat them, you're awarded with a medal called "color corrector". it's purely cosmetic and changes leif's appearance to their original red palette. and, you know, a heaping load of new issues for them to work through. have fun with it!