#i feel like hes got a thing for malicious compliance

[popcorn-ceiling-chickemn]

I can't wait for Jean to spit out the most devastatingly encouraging and positive rhetoric during exy matches in with the most venomous bite as he has to hold back his Raven habits. Meanwhile Jeremy hearing Jean say things like "have a winning day!", or "good job on your foot work!" To their opponents like he's spitting curses and his racket tight in his fists with a face like he's about to knee cap them and remove their spleen with Jeremy standing on the court heart eyed and about to get checked into a wall because he's too busy watching Jean and forgot he has the ball.

[strang3lov3]

Massage Chair

Summary: Joel teaches you to massage him, then takes advantage of your new skill. After, he shows his gratitude.

Tags: Lots of joel teasing, malicious compliance, light arguing, smut, fingering, teasing, romantic massaging, creampie, slower and more emotional, joel comforting u after boning.

a/n: thank you for your patience with me! I wanted to have this done last week, but I ended up in the ER which slowed me down a little. But, that gave me more time to write and @papipascalispunk time to beautifully edit this <3 she's such a babe.

(mall rats 5, though can be read as standalone. find more mall rats in my masterlist)

A brown leather chair is flipped on its side, and Joel’s tinkering with the parts inside, cursing and hissing expletives. It’s a broken massage recliner that came with Joel’s house, and he spotted the same model at Macy’s back in the old mall. So he stole bits and pieces, and now he’s attempting to fix the chair. It’s not going too well. 

“God bless it,” Joel grumbles at you, “Quit shinin’ the flashlight on the damn floor. Shine it inside the chair.”

“I am shining it inside the chair, Joel,” you argue, “Why don’t you make Ellie hold the flashlight for you?”

“‘Cause she can’t hold it right either. You girls suck at using flashlights,” Joel grimaces as he sits up off the ground, then reaches for your hand that’s holding the light. He manipulates your position, adjusting the way you’re sitting and how you hold the flashlight and says, “There. Stay like that.”

You smirk, “Oh Joel, it makes me so hot and bothered when you take control of me like that.” 

Joel sighs, frustrated with you. Like always. “Was that really necessary?” 

“Of course it was,” you reply. Moving gingerly, he lays back down on the carpeting. The chair makes small, metallic clanging noises as he works, and you’ve got a perfect view of his ass. So tight and plump in those jeans. What a treat. 

Joel turns on his side, twisting his torso to reach for a different screwdriver. This time, he grunts in pain. He works a little longer, then tosses the screwdriver aside before hoisting himself up. His knees crack and ache as he slowly stands up, carefully pulling the chair upright and plugging it into an outlet. You watch as he sits in the chair, lifts up the armrest to press a few buttons, and the chair comes to life. He keeps his eyes squinted shut, his chest rising and falling heavily with every labored breath he takes. He fidgets with the buttons as the chair makes different mechanical whirring noises, vibrating and pressing into his back. 

“Can I try it?”, you ask. 

“No,” he deadpans, “S’not massagin’ too good anyway – kinda just vibrates. And before you ask – no,” you smirk as he glares at you, “It doesn't vibrate like that. So don’t even think about doin’ that to my chair, you horndog.” He knows you so well.

When Joel is done speaking, he sighs and closes his eyes again. It’s a little awkward, watching Joel sit in his massage chair. He doesn’t seem very comfortable, and it’s making you feel sort of sad. His back has been killing him for weeks. He doesn’t talk about it much, but you can tell it’s getting worse. As he squeezes his eyes shut, those two little lines between his brows grow more prominent than usual. He inhales through his nose and exhales from his mouth, like he’s trying to breathe away the pain. 

Before the outbreak, he found things like heated massage chairs and beds that move up and down to be frivolous and unnecessary. In his twenties and thirties, if his back hurt he’d pop a few Advil and tough it out. Not exactly an option now. So, an old massage chair it is. 

“Have you been icing your back, Joel?”, you ask but Joel opens just one eye and glares at you. You take his silence as a no. “You need to ice it.” 

“My back’s fine,” Joel lies as he rolls his eyes at you, “Go away. Go play in traffic.”

“Are you keeping yourself hydrated?”, you continue.

“Yes.” You look at Joel, then you look next to him. The full glass of water on his end table says otherwise, condensation pooling on the wood. Joel looks there too, then back at you as you stare at him, unimpressed, “Yeah, I drink enough water, dammit. What’s with the third degree?” 

You ignore his question, “Are you getting enough rest?”

“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do right now?” Again, you stare at him with an unimpressed expression. Joel sighs, exasperated, “For the love of god, I rest plenty.” Out of all the ways you could annoy him, this is the most brutal. It’s torturous. He continues, “I’d rest easier if you weren’t here, y’know. So get gone. Quit naggin’ me.”

“Charming, Joel. Like always,” you tell him, your tone sarcastic. Lifting yourself up, you stand in front of him and take his hand in your own. You pull with all of your might to lift him up, and drag him to his feet. He groans the entire time.

“Oh, come on,” Joel complains. He knows that look you’ve got on your face, knows that you’re on a mission and he’s coming with. Of course he’s coming with. He’s always stuck with you, somehow. “What are you signin’ me up for now?”, as you lead him to his room, matching his slow pace as he takes heavy steps, so as not to overwhelm his ancient bones.

“Bed,” you tell him. 

Oh. Joel gets it now. You’re forcing him to take a rest. Could be worse, he supposes, but he always has a flair for the dramatic, so he sighs heavily as he lays down, making sure you know he is not happy that you’re putting his ass to bed. You untie his boots and pull them off his feet, then toss them aside. 

Just as Joel settles on his back, you move to his side of the bed and put your hands under his torso and thigh, then roll him onto his stomach rather harshly. He yelps in pain, “Jesus Christ–”

“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. You join him on the bed, straddling his butt, careful not to put too much pressure on him. 

Joel is confused beyond words. Before he can process what you’re doing, he feels you bouncing the sides of your hands down his shoulders and spine, and then you’re pinching and smushing his body haphazardly. “Uhh, what are you doin’ to me?”, he questions now. It is a deeply uncomfortable sensation. 

“Massaging you, because your chair doesn’t work,” you tell him, continuing your work on his back, “It’ll help you rest. I’m feeding two birds with one scone, Joel.”

“That – that’s not how the phrase – fuck, never mind,” Joel relents, baffled as you “massage” him. He lets you continue for a few moments longer before deciding he’s had enough. “Sweetheart, it’s very kind of you, but you are terrible at this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, no, this is god awful. You’re gonna break my damn spine in half,” Joel pauses before speaking again, thinking to himself. There’s no way you’ve had or given a massage before now. “Am I your guinea pig?”

“Kinda,” you answer quietly.

“I could tell,” Joel taps you on the leg twice, “Alright, get off and switch me spots.”

“What for?”, you ask. 

“So I can teach ya how it’s done and keep you from committing a fuckin’ felony assault on my back,” he says, “What you’re doin’... it’s inhumane, darlin’.” He’s being very Joel about this. Harsh, a little rude. Dramatic. You climb off him and he scoots off of his bed. “Take off your shirt,” he tells you, “S’rule one of a good massage. You’re supposed to massage a person, not their clothes.”

“Noted,” you say. Joel leaves then, maybe to give you privacy or something, not that you need it. If Joel wants you to strip naked, you’ll strip naked, no questions asked. You’d lay yourself on a silver platter for him, cherries on your ass and an apple in your mouth. Though, you do think it’s sweet he’s trying to keep you feeling comfortable. Joel Miller, always the gentleman.  

You strip nude, then lay on your stomach on the bed, right where Joel was. His sheets feel warm from his body heat and they smell like him too, warm and musky and woody. You’re facing his window, where outside it’s overcast and gloomy. On his bedside table sits his book of crossword puzzles. 

The stairs and floorboards creak as Joel returns to you. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you naked and face down in his bed, rolling his eyes at your lack of modesty. Joel places a few things on his dresser, then a little glass container full of oil on his bedside table. “Only had to take your shirt off, hon,” he says. 

“Oh. I thought you wanted me naked.”

“You’ve got selective hearing,” Joel lowers the curtains by his window and lights a few candles on his dresser, “I think you wanted you naked.” In the darkened room, he moves behind you and you hear the sound of fabric moving before he’s draping a blanket over your bum. You shrug, “Sorry, Joel. Guilty as charged.”

“Uh huh,” he mumbles. Joel rolls up his sleeves before beginning. “You ready?”, you nod, and so does he. He takes the container of oil and drizzles it down your spine. It’s warm, a little sweet and fragrant. You feel relaxed already. Joel then pours some of oil into the palm of his hands and rubs them together. “First thing, you always wanna be mindful of any painful or sensitive areas. Anything you need me to be careful about?”

“Uh, no. My back doesn’t usually hurt,” you tell him. 

“Must be nice,” he mumbles. After rubbing his palms together, he places them on your back. He spreads the drizzled oil from your lower back up to your neck and shoulders in long strokes with his palms, so big and strong and warm. You sigh in relief. “The oil makes it easier to glide your hands. Don’t wanna use too much, though. And you’re gonna spread it out, nice and even.” 

You nod, your eyes closed, “What about the candles?”

“Candles don’t make a difference. Just thought you’d like ‘em,” Joel whispers. 

“I do.”

He spends the next couple minutes using wide, gentle strokes of his hands to completely spread the oil over your body. Once he’s satisfied, he places his hands at your shoulders.  He works his thumbs into your traps and up your neck, pushing and sliding them up your skin. “How’s the pressure?”, he asks, “Too much? Not enough?” 

“Little too much,” you tell him. 

Joel lightens the pressure and continues the motion, “Feel nice?”

All you can do is hum in response. It feels incredible. His hands are so firm and gentle, so careful. Your skin is warm and his touch is comforting. He works his way down your body, massaging and rubbing your muscles. He alternates between circular and back and forth movements. 

“Good. Remember that. Be nice and fluid when you massage me,” Joel whispers, “None of that karate choppin’ shit.” 

“None of that karate choppin’ shit,” you repeat, matching his tone. 

Joel massages you everywhere for the next ten minutes. Instructing you to stay away from the spine directly, but focus your pressure next to it. Focus on the muscles. You can dig your thumbs in, use your knuckles, even the heels of your palms. He tells you he’s being more gentle, but he’s gonna need you to use your body weight. 

“You writin’ this down?”, he asks. 

“Mmm, yeah. Got my pen and paper right here,” you murmur. He massages a sensitive spot on your back and you moan softly. 

“Hey,” he warns, “Don’t be enjoyin’ this so much. S’for my benefit, not yours. I’ve got ulterior motives for massagin’ you.”

“Oh?”, you whisper.

“Yeah, oh. You volunteered yourself to fix my back, so I’m gonna take advantage.”

“Joel?”

“What’s that, hon?” he asks quietly. 

“I’m not, fuck, right there,” you breathe, “M’not learning a whole lot. Need some more pointers.”

“Always workin’ an angle,” he retorts, “But I don’t have nothin’ else to tell ya.” Joel massages you quietly for a couple more minutes, generously giving you more massaging than he anticipated. But he likes it, likes knowing you’re feeling good. The soft noises you’re making, how smooth your skin feels. He loves watching the candlelight dance across your skin while he runs his palms up and down your hips, your sides, pouring over your curves. You’re lost in the sensation for a few moments longer before Joel taps your hip, “Alright, time’s up.” 

“No, Joel, come on,” you whine, “Not yet, don’t stop now.” 

“Move it,” he says, tapping your hip harder, “S’my turn. My back hurts, not yours. You said so yourself.” 

You whine again, “Please? Just a little longer.”

“Mmm, nope. Let this be a lesson to ya, don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish.” Joel leaves to go to his bathroom then, turns on the hot water in his sink and returns with a warm rag. He gently scrubs your back, removing the excess oil. 

Finally, you sit up in defeat. “Give me that,” you grumble, reaching for the rag. You take it to the bathroom and rinse it out for Joel as he begins undressing. When you return, Joel is shirtless face down in his bed, a blanket draped over his ass, just like how he had you. 

“Alright hon, I’m ready. Show me whatcha got.” 

Standing next to him, you step a little closer to the bed and survey Joel. He’s on his tummy facing you, his eyes shut gently. He looks gorgeous like this, his hair messy, his shoulders thick and broad. You trace the curve of his back with your eyes, curious when you look at his ass. So plump under that blanket. Reaching forward, you lift the blanket. 

“What’re ya doin’,” Joel asks in an annoyed tone. 

“I’m just…”, you trail off, admiring the swell of his ass cheeks. Joel doesn’t seem to mind when you touch his bum, squeezing the flesh gently and watching it move beneath your fingertips.

“You’re snoopin’,” he answers his own question for you. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. You look at Joel again, and he’s still got his eyes shut. A small smile on his face that you know wouldn’t be there if he knew you were looking at his face.

“Why don’t you snoop a little higher, dirty bird.” 

“Okay,” you murmur, draping the blanket over his ass. “Can you remind me of step one again?”

“Ah, someone wasn’t payin’ attention,” he teases, “Sure. Ya gotta ask me where it hurts.” 

“Where’s it hurt?”

“Everywhere.” 

You sigh, “Thanks, Joel. That’s helpful.” 

“Wouldn’t hurt to give my neck and shoulders a little extra lovin’, though.” You nod, then reach for his shoulders. “Nuh uh,” he tuts, “Oil first.” You reach for the oil and hover it over Joel’s body. “Easy does it. Little goes a long–”, but Joel is interrupted when he feels a large splash of oil on his back, dripping over his sides and onto his sheets. Definitely gonna stain.

“Ah, fuck,” you curse, “My bad.”

“God bless it,” Joel grumbles, “S’alright. Get the rag and clean me up a little.”

Doing as you’re told, you get the rag from the bathroom and wipe away the oil you don’t need. Then you spread the oil on Joel’s back, using your palms to drag it from the area just above his ass cheeks to his wide shoulders. Joel hums in satisfaction. You lean over him to begin massaging his body, but you’re finding it uncomfortable. “Do you mind if I straddle you again?” you ask, “To reach your back easier.”

“Go for it.”

You hold onto Joel’s shoulders for stability as you straddle yourself over him, sitting on his ass and settling your knees at his sides. This way, you have much more mobility. You place your palms at his lower back, thumbs on either side of his spine and press into him hard, then work your hands up his body. He sighs softly. “How’s that?”, you ask.

“Jury’s still out,” he replies, “Do that again, little harder this time.” When you do, Joel sighs deeper, “S’it. Much better.”

You repeat the general motion, but vary your movements. Sometimes letting your hands explore his sides, making big and small circles, large sweeping motions. Joel groans when you walk your thumbs up his spine. “Yeah, very nice,” he praises. 

Once at his upper back, you focus pressure on his shoulders and neck. You curl your fingers inward and use your knuckles for added pressure. “Little more,” he tells you. You press harder, but his muscles are so tight. “Harder,” he says, “C’mon, use some elbow grease.”

“I’m gonna hurt you, Joel,” you argue. 

“You ain’t gonna hurt me,” he says. “In fact, I want you to try.” 

“Huh?”

“Yeah, hon. Hard as you can. Like you’re tryna squeeze the life outta me.”

Shaking your head, you try it. You squeeze his traps, digging your thumbs into his flesh as hard as you can. You watch his skin turn white under your fingertips. 

“Fuck,” he moans, “There it is. Good girl, doin’ such a good job.” 

Oh dear lord. His words go straight to your pussy. You continue to work his neck and shoulders, listening to Joel breathe and sigh, moan and groan. You admire his back, his freckles and moles and stretch marks here and there. “Good girl,” he praises you again. He whispers it over and over and over. Good girl. 

He’s making all sorts of sinful noises, cursing all kinds of obscenities, and you’re falling to pieces just listening to him, feeling his hot skin. You picture his face, contorted in pleasure. 

You feel warm, your core beginning to ache. You didn’t quite expect to get so worked up over this. As you lean forward over Joel to massage him, you tilt your hips into his back, pressing yourself against him for some sort of relief. Maybe repeating the motion once or twice. 

“I can feel that,” he says. 

“Feel what?”

“You. Drippin’. Rockin’ those hips on me. You’re makin’ a mess all over me, dirty bird.”

Your cheeks heat up and you’re feeling a little bashful at the accusation. 

“Ya gotta finish my massage before we take care of that, hm?”

“Yeah,” you agree. Not like you have much left to do anyway. You’ve been massaging him for half an hour at this point, paid special attention to each area of his back. After massaging him for a few minutes longer, you tap his shoulder blade to let him know you’re done. Joel lifts himself up and begins to twist over, so you lift up to your knees to make room. “Wait, Joel, your sheets–”

“You ruined ‘em already.” He’s right. Oh well. 

Once he’s settled, you sit down on his lap. His cock is half hard already. You reach for it, and he swats your hand away. You balk in confusion. “Ya ain’t done yet,” he tells you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Massage tax,” he says plainly, as if somehow you should have known that’s a thing and you roll your eyes, “It’s the law.”

“That is not a law.” 

“Is now,” he says, taking his cock into his hand. You watch him work himself, swiping his thumb over the blushed tip a couple of times before holding it tightly, restricting your access. 

“Joel,” you whine, “This isn’t– come on, man.”

“I know. I ain’t happy about it either,” he says, though his mischievous smile says differently, 

“Government’s just rife with corruption, ain’t it?”

You can’t say you didn’t have this coming. You’ve tormented Joel for months in a myriad of ways. You deserve this. 

“I don’t deserve this,” you tell him. 

“‘Course not,” he says softly, still holding his member tightly. You try to wriggle his fingers away, but he’s got an iron grip. You sigh in defeat, annoyed. Joel looks all too proud of himself.

“I hate you, Joel.”

“You wound me sweetheart, really. It hurts,” he inhales sharply through his teeth, extending an arm to you, “Hurts almost as much as my arm, you know that? S’been so sore, my hands an’ fingers too.” 

Yeah, yeah. You get the picture. 

Glaring at him, you watch him shimmy into the pillows and wiggle his arm at you again. You’ve still got some oil on your hands, so you don’t bother with the bottle on his nightstand. 

“Start up top,” he instructs you.

You move a little closer, taking his upper arm into your hands. You squeeze the muscles of his biceps and triceps, and as much as this is bothersome, it’s nice too. His muscles are strong, big, and firm. You’ve never really seen them until now. You admire the contours of his arm, the soft lines his muscles make. “And work your way down, down,” he says. And you follow, massaging his forearm. He sighs when you reach his hands, “S’my favorite part,” as you massage his palm, each knuckle of his digits. His hands are worn and calloused. 

You drop his hand once you feel like you’ve done enough, “Done.”  

“Really?” 

“Yep.” 

“Hm,” Joel hums before offering you his other arm, holding his cock now with his other hand, “I’ve got an entire arm you haven’t touched yet.” You stare at him with a blank expression. Joel pouts and acknowledges your disappointment by saying, “I know, hon. I’m so sorry.”

You roll your eyes, taking his other arm into your hands. “No, you aren’t.”

“Yeah, I’m not sorry,” he says, “Not one bit.”

And so again, you repeat the motions, first massaging his biceps and triceps. The hand that holds his cock rests between your thighs, and you begin grinding into it. Eyes shut, he raises one brow in amusement at your arousal. You’re soaked. 

Finally, he lets himself go. His cock springs free, rock hard with protruding veins, and you inch forward so that it sits between your thighs. 

As you massage his forearm now, you rock your hips slightly. Joel surely notices, though he doesn’t mind. You rock yourself quicker, chasing that sweet friction on your clit. Your hands are at his palm now, thumbs urgently rubbing circles into the flesh. You need to be done with this.  

“Slow it down,” he tells you, “S’not a race.”

You groan, but slow down anyway. You screw your eyes shut as you massage his palm sloppily, your focus now concentrated on what's happening between your thighs. Your pussy is slick as you roll your hips, grinding against his hard cock. That familiar coil in your gut is back. “Joel,” you cry, “My hands are sore.”

“Now you know how I feel,” he retorts, and you whine impatiently. “Ya never do any hard work in your life. C’mon, you’re almost done,” he taps your ass, “Lift up a little. I like watchin’ you get yourself all worked up on my cock.” 

As you work Joel’s hand, you lift yourself, hovering just inches above him. With his free hand, he takes his cock and drags himself through your dripping folds, collecting your slick on his tip. It feels good, your pussy is sensitive. He nudges his head against your clit, back and forth and periodically notches himself at your entrance, playing with you, achingly torturing you. “Joel,” you whine as he teases you, “My thighs are aching, hands too, ca— can’t do this anymore.”

“Sure ya can,” he coos. It feels like you’ve been massaging him for hours, way longer than he massaged you. This isn’t fair in the slightest, even with his back pain. 

Truth be told, the hand and arm massage stopped feeling good for Joel a long time ago. You’re aching and tired, and so are your hands, not giving him the proper pressure he needs.  But he’s taking advantage of this opportunity to tease you, drive you insane. He feels it’s warranted. 

And then finally, finally, he pulls his hand away from you. You’re done. 

You flop next to Joel and take his hand back in yours, guiding his fingers to your center. “Please,” you beg him, “Touch me. Do something.”

Joel clicks his tongue, “No can do.”

“What?”

“Yeah, think I just wanna rest now.” You stare at Joel, confused. He shrugs, “And I’m just parched. Need some water. And I’d go and get it, but I don’t want ya to yell at me again. I’m supposed to be resting, like you said.”

“You want me to get you water,” you confirm, annoyed. 

“And some ice, too,” he adds. 

Joel watches with a smirk on his face as you shove his hand away from your thigh and huff, then stomp out of his bedroom and all the way downstairs. After Joel hears the sound of running water and the slamming of cabinets, you return moments later with a glass of water and some ice wrapped in a towel. You mumble, “You can shove this ice right up–”

“Right up my ass, got it,” Joel takes the ice in one hand and the glass of water in his other. Joel drinks a sip of the water, then makes a disgusted face, “You gave me warm water? What is wrong with you?”

“You didn’t specify the temperature.” 

Joel rolls his eyes and sets both the ice and the water on his nightstand. “Fuckin’ psycho,” he mumbles. Even when he thinks he’s one step ahead of you in the never-ending quest to piss one another off, he’s not. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

You smile, “Thanks.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, admiring the mischievous grin on your face and that look in your eye. And then faster than you can blink, he takes your arm in his hand and pulls you back into bed as you giggle. You hear him laughing too, and then he’s situating himself above you. Hovering over you with one arm by your head, he takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks on them before bringing his hand between your thighs. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. You’re so sensitive and he’s finally fucking touching you, fingertips dragging through your slick folds, circling your clit before dipping one, then two fingers inside you. He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing tight circles into you. “Quit teasing,” you plead. 

Joel laughs breathlessly above you, “M’not teasin’—”

“More,” you interrupt him, “I need more.”

“You got it,” he says, then inserts a third finger. He curls them repeatedly inside you, your pussy gushing and soaking his fingers, making all sorts of wet, sticky noises. 

But it’s still not enough. You’re so fucking needy, so ready for Joel to just fuck you. You push his hand away and reach for his cock, wrapping your legs around him and using your feet on his ass to push him down closer to you.

“Ah, fuck,” Joel hisses when he feels your hand touch his member, “Hey, easy, sweetheart. Let’s slow it down.”

“Slow it down my ass,” you argue, “I want you now, Joel.”

“Now?” 

“Need you now,” you repeat, tilting your hips and bouncing your heels on his ass, “Now, now, now, now–”

Joel smiles at your desperation, at the way he’s managed to torture you. “Didn’t quite catch that, bad hearing and all that. You want me to fuck you when exactly?”, you cry in pure agony and Joel says, “Gotta mark my calendar, set my alarm clock...”

Your groans of frustration quickly turn into a soft sigh of pleasure as Joel takes you by surprise, pushing his cock inside you deeply, inch by inch, in one fluid motion. The stretch feels incredible and you’re so perfectly full of him. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close with one of your hands resting on his shoulder and the other tangled in the soft curls on his head. 

“Been needin’ this, huh?”, Joel asks as he settles inside you, letting you adjust to the stretch. 

You nod, your cheek brushing against his scratchy, salt and pepper facial hair. “You’re such an asshole,” you whisper, “You make me so mad.”

“Ditto, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he kisses your cheek. That’s become a regular thing, now. Always kissing your forehead, your cheeks. It always makes you blush. Joel pulls out of you nearly all the way before pushing back in. Over and over, building to a steady pace, and he makes soft grunts as he fucks you. 

You love how he cages you in, surrounds you, the low light of the candles dancing on his face as he fucks you passionately. And he’s watching you, big brown eyes full of something you can’t quite read. He pulls your hand from his hair and pins it next to your head, his fingers interlaced with your own. It’s sweet and it’s intimate, almost too intimate.

You can’t take this right now. Can’t deal with the way it feels, to be treated so specially by Joel. 

You untangle your fingers from his, and he watches you with a confused expression on his face. Reaching low, you slap his ass, “C’mon, fuck me harder. Use some elbow grease,” you mock his words from earlier, “Or does your old ass back hurt too much?” 

Joel stills and stares at you. You stare back, challenging him. “Why are you bein’ like this?” he asks, “Do y’always have to instigate?”

“Think I just heard your hip crack, too,” you tease, but it gets no reaction from Joel. 

“Quit while you’re ahead,” he warns, then composes himself before speaking again, “Have some faith. You trust me?” 

There’s something different about the way he’s looking at you, watching you. You’re apprehensive, but you nod anyway. 

“I said, we’re gonna slow it down this time,” he whispers, “Gonna go nice and slow.”

Joel pulls out of you then, and you groan in disappointment. He silences your displeasure with a quiet shhhh, then moves lower down your body. He runs his hands over your tummy, up your sides, tracing each and every curve. Kisses one hip bone, “I know I was teasin’ ya,” he says, “And I really put ya to work with that massage. That you offered t’do, mind you,” he adds as he kisses your other hip bone, “Really didn’t think that you were gonna get me ice and a glass of water. Wasn’t surprised when you told me to shove it up my ass, but I wasn’t expectin’ to drink warm water. Was a nice touch, trouble.” 

You begin to speak, but you stammer, struggling to find the right words. You squirm under his touch. He’s being so gentle, so sweet that he’s got you all flustered now. 

“Yeah, I know, sweet girl,” Joel mumbles against your skin. Pressing soft and wet kisses on your body, his fingers leisurely dragging through your dripping folds as he looks up at you, “I want you to know that I appreciate you. I appreciate all the ass backward things you do for me. I really do.”

“Joel, I–fuck,”, you moan. He’s pumping his fingers inside you again, now licking and kissing your nipples, swirling his tongue over the soft skin, worshiping every inch of your body.

“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head. Y’still drive me fuckin’ nuts.” You laugh breathlessly, voice caught in your throat as Joel kisses up your neck, up your jaw, your chin, and stopping just before your lips when he hears your breath hitch. He searches your eyes, sensing your apprehension. He knows the weight of the intimacy that kissing your lips holds, especially since it’s been put off so long.  He’s gonna kiss you. Just not yet. “Now can we try this again?”

When you whisper a quiet yes, he enters you for a second time, burying himself inside of you. He begins to fuck you again, slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of him, parts of him you don’t usually feel. His quiet breaths on your skin, the thick vein of his cock, his soft tummy, so warm against yours.  Usually he fucks you hard, fast. But today, he’s savoring you. You dig your heels into his ass, faster. It has to be faster.

“Don’t fight me on this,” he says, “We can just be nice, pretend you like me and I like you. Just this once. We don’t always have to argue.”

“Joel,” you whine, “Please. I can’t–I want–” 

“I know what you want, ya want what we’re used to. But s’not so bad, I promise,” he purrs above you, “Tell me– fuck, tell me how you feel.”

Exposed, but good. Really good. It’s new and unfamiliar, but so fucking good, but it feels like a crime to admit that. “Joel,” is all you can say, “Joel.”

“I know,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours, one hand on your waist holding you tight as he fucks you, “Doin’ so good for me.”

You still can’t bring yourself to say anything, don’t know how to respond to him. You’re at a loss for words, feeling him like this. How warm and protected and loved you feel. Your skin is on fire and you can’t help but close your eyes, retreating inward. But as different as this is, you don’t want him to stop, so you hold him tighter, pulling his face down to yours and burying yourself in his neck. 

Joel fucks you like that for a while. Just like that, with every thrust being intentional, feeling devastatingly good. You lose yourself in the feeling and Joel seemingly does as well. Words are left unspoken as he savors this moment with you. 

Hours could have passed, you wouldn’t know. Joel’s movements are becoming erratic, quicker. “Come with me,” he begs, resting his forearm above your head and moving the other to your center, as he paints tight circles around your clit, “I want you to come with me, sweetheart. Please.” 

It’s not long after that when that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach is back, fluttering and intense. “Oh, god,” you moan, “M’close.”

“That’s it, just let yourself go,” he breathes, “With me, now.” 

His words are all it takes. Your orgasm washes over you slowly, intensely. It’s powerful, the way lava flows from the earth, setting your skin ablaze. It’s overwhelming as Joel fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He makes broken moans and grunts as he comes with you, painting your insides with his hot seed. 

He pants on top of you, catching his breath before pulling out of you, not caring that you’re now dripping his spend onto his bed. He lays next to you, pulling you into his side with your legs tangled between his and your head resting on his shoulder. 

You’re crying, quietly. That’s never happened before. Joel feels your tears dripping down his skin, and he looks at you with concern.

“M’fine, Joel, I was just–It was just–”

Joel speaks to you soothingly, “I know, I know,” he whispers, “I’m right here.”

He just holds you like that, his fingertips trailing over your skin in lazy patterns. When he chuckles to himself, you look at him. “What?” you ask. 

“Warm water,” he says, amused, “You amaze me.”

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters: Would They Be Good at Pulling Pranks?

Yesterday was April 1, aka April Fools Day, a holiday that encourages people to pull pranks. So that got me wondering: if such a holiday existed in the Cosmere, would various Cosmere characters be good at this whole "pranking" thing?

1. Syl: Yes, but only of one type

Syl is a prankster in canon: she likes to stick things together! Your shoes to your floor, your hand to your spear, your butt to your chair...so yes, she is great at pranks. I bet if April Fool's Day existed in the Cosmere, she would be an absolute menace.

2. Lopen: Depends on who you ask...

I think Lopen's pranks would be like his jokes: not intended to be mean, but actually kinda mean. In Dawnshard, Lopen came to learn that his jokes were not universally fun and beloved, and I feel like his journey with pranks would necessarily be similar. He'd love pulling them, though!

3. Wayne: Yes, and everyone has fun

Sanderson once said that the difference between Lopen & Wayne is that Wayne can read the room. So I think Wayne would not only like pranks, but would also be more aware of their effect. Like...if Lopen is tying your shoelaces together when you're late for work, Wayne is putting googly eyes (which he invented) on all of your family photos while you're out.

4. Sarene: Yes (mostly against Iadon)

Sarene, Miss Malicious-compliance-and-weaponizer-of-other-people's-misogyny, would love an excuse to "accidentally" prank Iadon. She'd either do really obvious pranks and blame them on feminine confusion ("Oh dear I just wanted to clean but I guess washing your portrait ruined it??") or do really sneaky pranks that no one could trace back to her (cut to Sarene secretly weakening the seams on all of Iadon's clothing so that a good sneeze will make them all fall off).

5. Kaladin: Not anymore

We know that in canon Kaladin pulled pranks as a kid--he told Tien to save a lurg to dump in their dad's bath later. But I feel like nowadays, Kaladin is too gloomy and glowering to pull pranks. He might just enjoy Syl's sometimes though...

6. Steris: Maybe they're just not the most creative...

I think that if a Pranking Holiday existed, Steris would study up and do a textbook prank. Like, she's replacing Wax's sugar bowl with salt, and then he drinks a sip of salty coffee, and then she says, "Ah ha! You have been Pranked per the Social Conventions of today's Holiday!" And Wax would be genuinely delighted.

7. Dalinar: No--not at any point in his life

Blackthorn Dalinar would think a prank is "stabbing a guy in the leg and laughing." Modern-day Dalinar would be puzzled that anyone actually does pranks--aren't they, you know, kinda beneath you? The Codes would DEFINITELY not allow them.

8. Sigzil: No, too much paperwork

The Prank Authorization Form is 7 pages and takes 5 weeks for review and approval. Who has that kind of time???

9. Lift: Yes, absolutely

I can see Lift positioning buckets of water over, like, Dalinar's door or slicking the floor right as that merchant she saw yelling at kids walks by. Now--imagine Lift & Syl going on a prank spree together. You're welcome.

10. Hoid: Nobody knows

Hoid put paperclips in the pockets of every single one of Elhokar's outfits. He put edible glitter into Rock's stew, turning it into Glitter Stew. He found one of Kaladin's buttons on the ground and straight-up ate it while making direct eye contact.

But...were any of those things pranks? Were they plots? Were they just Hoid being Wit?

Nobody knows.

[farity]

Devil in the Details

"Oh. My. Motherfucking. God."

You turned at your friend Floris's whispered exclamation.

It took you but a second to figure out what she was so excited about.

Aemond Targaryen, the black sheep of the Targaryen dynasty, the reclusive billionaire who looked down at everyone vying for his attention, the man you'd been in lust with since you'd met him five years ago, had actually made an appearance at the glittering charity gala hosted by his mother.

"I need to get his skin care routine," Floris said, biting on her lower lip as she scrutinized Aemond from head to toe. "I'd love to climb that tree tonight."

Good luck with that, you thought to yourself.

You'd been in the same Uni class as his sister Helaena and met Aemond when you'd gone over to work on a joint project. He'd been quiet and almost shy, and you had been instantly smitten.

And had not been able to date anyone in the five years since because all you thought about was Aemond Targaryen.

Not that he gave you a second thought, as far as you knew.

"What the fuck is he wearing?" Floris continued, and, tired of pining after the man, you looked at her and snapped, "why don't you go find out?" before walking away to get your drink refilled.

* * * * *

"We are so very thankful for your family's contribution - the children will benefit greatly," Alicent smiled at you, leaning in to air-kiss you as you said your goodbyes.

You got your coat from the girl at the front, and were about to call for your car when you felt a hand grab your arm.

"Leaving already?"

Your heart began pounding as you recognized Aemond's voice, and taking a breath to steady yourself, you turned to face him.

By the Seven, he looked amazing. He'd shaved off his hair a few months ago when Aegon had done the same after having one too many drinks. Alicent had screamed at her oldest son and out of brotherly solidarity, Aemond had grabbed the electric shaver and started running it along his scalp right in front of his mother.

His eyes bore into yours, the prosthetic eye he had so perfect that you couldn't tell which eye was the real one. Every time you thought about it, you wanted to wallop his cousin, the little shit who had taken Aemond's eye during a childhood fight.

"I've seen enough people to last me a few months," you said, looking at what was, indeed, damn perfect skin, as Floris had mentioned. And was that eyeliner? Because his eyes had never been bluer than they were at that moment.

"Tell me about it," he said, still holding on to your arm, "I was going to grab a drink at the quiet bar next door, if you're game."

There was something vulnerable in his expression and you found yourself nodding and taking the arm he offered. "What in the world are these?" you asked.

He looked down at the latex gloves. "Mother's been berating me for not making an appearance at these things," he shrugged, "so here I am. Maybe she should have specified a dress code."

* * * * *

"You know, there's a name for what you're doing," you said, taking a sip of your drink.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Malicious compliance."

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that would be me." He looked back up at you, eyes sparkling, "if she'd wanted me to wear a tux, she should have said so."

"Would you have, though?" you prodded, "I have a feeling you would have figured some way to twist that dress code around. You were always the clever one."

"Not so clever if I never got you to go out with me."

You stared at him for a few seconds. "Aemond, you never asked."

"I'm asking now."

He placed a few bills on the table and placed his hand palm up on the table.

You narrowed your eyes at him, making him laugh, and then placed your hands on his, and let him lead you out the door.

* * * * *

"How is Helaena liking Naath?"

"She loves it there. She has to get her shot every six months but she doesn't care, as long as she can keep studying the butterflies."

"And Aegon?"

"He stopped drinking after he shaved off his head, said it didn't suit his perfectly shaped skull."

You laughed, remembering Aegon's rather oversized ego, and then stole a glance at Aemond. "What about you? How have you been?"

He shrugged, "the company is doing well, family's good," he looked at you, "and I'm on a wonderful date."

You raised your eyebrows, "oh it's a date, is it?"

You could have sworn he blushed, but he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back. "It very much is, but I do have a problem." He looked at you very seriously. "I need to lose these damn gloves."

* * * * *

It took about twenty minutes of careful tugging and maneuvering but finally, Aemond was free of the gloves and while you got two coffees to keep you going, he headed to the bathroom to wash his arms.

Back on the street, he grabbed your hand in his as he sipped at his coffee. "This is much better."

"So where on earth does one get this sort of getup to shock Alicent Hightower?"

He smiled. "My friend is a stylist and he hooked me up. His girlfriend is a makeup artist and she put all this stuff on my face and hair."

"You look amazing," you said sincerely, "your eyes look super blue."

"I could feel mom's blood pressure spiking as she noticed the eyeliner and highlighter," he laughed. "It was worth it."

"I bet she'll say extra prayers for you tonight."

Nodding, he took another sip of his coffee. "Not enough prayers in the world," he mused. You stopped to drink some of your own coffee and he pulled you closer. "And I really want to kiss you."

You looked up at him, your heart beating faster, and then he placed his coffee cup down, and took your face in his hands. He brushed his nose against yours, not rushing you, and then his lips touched yours. He kept the kiss light and gentle, his fingertips threading through your hair as you sighed against him.

He murmured your name as he wrapped an arm around you. You didn't want this to end, this magical night, and then he spoke again.

"Come home with me."

* * * * *

"You feel so damn good," Aemond whispered in the lift, his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The car stopped and the doors opened, and you stepped into his loft, his hands roaming over your ass as you kicked off your shoes and let him pull you up against him.

"I want you so fucking much," you said against his mouth. He led you to his bedroom and you sat down on the edge of the bed as he pulled his shirt off over his head. "Come here, Aemond," you smiled.

He walked up to you, slowly, and you reached up to undo the fastenings on his leather trousers, keeping your eyes on him. Your hand lightly went over where he was already hard as a rock, and he hissed.

You drew down the zipper ever so slowly, biting down on your lower lip.

"I am going to make you pay for this," he gritted out.

"For what?" you asked innocently, starting to tug down the waistband. When you finally freed him, your eyes darting between his cock and his eyes, you licked your lips and took him in your mouth.

"Fuck."

"Hmmmm," you moaned around him, relaxing your throat so you could take him deeper. You could hear Aemond's breathing stuttering as you slowly pulled your lips all the way to the very tip of him and then took him back down your throat, hollowing out your cheeks.

"Fuck," he repeated, "I, uh, I can't-"

You felt him suddenly pull you off him and push you back on the bed.

"This is going to end too quickly if you keep doing that, angel."

"Angel?"

"Look at you," he said, indicating your white shimmery gown. "An angel about to be debauched."

You let one strap of the dress fall off your shoulder. "What does that make you, then?"

He lunged for you, hands on the bed on either side of you, and the smile on his face made you shiver.

"Me? I'm already destined for hell, love."

He took your lips, not slowly or gently this time, but desperately, his mouth all consuming on yours as he demanded entrance with his tongue and you willingly gave it. He was tugging down your dress as he kissed you, long fingers deftly maneuvering the yards of fabric until he had bared your breasts and then he pulled back, looking down at you.

You pushed the rest of the dress down until it fell on the floor, then laid back down and extended your arms to him. "Come here, Aemond," you said for the second time that night.

He shoved down the trousers, kicked them aside and spread your legs open before he kissed you again. He was so warm, his skin ablaze against yours, and you pulled him down to you, unable to get enough of him.

He began to kiss your neck, long fingers teasing your nipple, and then his mouth was on your breast and you moaned, the sharp sting of pleasure making you arch against him. He reached down lower, between your thighs, and you gasped.

"Tell me what you like," he murmured against your lips.

"Oh," you breathed as he settled on a steady rhythm, drawing tiny circles on the knot of nerves, "you're doing fine," you managed.

"Fine is not what I'm aiming for," he said, and slipped two fingers inside you and you cried out, your hips beginning to rock against him. "I want you to come for me," he added, curling his fingertips inside you.

"Aemond," you whispered, one hand on his shoulder, the other grabbing at his hair. "I- I'm-" you pressed your face to his neck a moment before the orgasm barreled through you, your cry muffled against his skin.

You felt him kneeing your legs apart and then he was pushing inside you. As ready as you were for him, he was big, and you bit down on your lower lip, still recovering and still wanting more.

"You can take me," he murmured soothingly as he kissed your temple. "Next time you come, I want to feel it around my cock," he said, and you whimpered as he rocked his hips to fill you completely.

He pulled back slowly, eyes on you, making sure you were okay, and then snapped his hips. You let your head fall back, and felt his teeth on your jaw, raking gently. "So good," he whispered, "I've wanted you for so long," he said as he settled on long, slow strokes. "So fucking long."

"Aemond," you closed your eyes, the feeling of him moving inside you beginning to send you back into that delicious spiral.

He reached between you, fingertips finding you and you moaned. "I can feel you," he said, "you-"

You cried out as you came, and felt him grab your hips to steady himself as he reached his own orgasm.

* * * * *

As reserved and aloof as you had always thought him to be, he hadn't stopped kissing and caressing you in the aftermath of your lovemaking. The man was full of surprises.

"Stay with me," he murmured against your cheek. "Tonight."

"How can I go when you've got me completely caged in," you teased, looking down at the arms he had wrapped around you and the way his legs were tangled with yours.

"Damn, I was trying to be stealthy," he smirked back. "We'll get breakfast, maybe I'll let you lure me back to bed again."

You rolled your eyes at him. "Rewriting history, are we? I remember trying to leave and someone grabbing my arm."

His eyes became serious on yours. "If I could rewrite history, I would have grabbed you a lot sooner." He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "But I mean to make up for it."

You smiled against him, and let him pull you closer, thinking you were only too happy to let him make it up to you for a long, long time.

[moe-moe-kyun]

Malicious Compliance- Throw in the Towel

Synopsis: A different ending for my fic 'Malicious Compliance,' where things get a lil hot n heavy ;)

Tags/Warnings: Explicit, smut, nudity, lucifer x reader, gender neutral reader, reader receiving, bottom lucifer, pet names (good boy, baby), i like my men desperate and submissive

Minors DNI!!!!!!

Notes: uhhh first time writing smut. i try not to describe readers sex characteristics in depth. not proofread and not the best but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

'They've known what they were doing this entire time,' the realization hits him as you slide farther back onto his lap. Lucifer's hands grip the armrests so hard his knuckles turn white.

The coy smile spreads greater across your face when your ass comes in contact with Lucifer's dick practically twitching in its confines. Just when it seemed you were about to grind against him, you stood. Relief flooded Lucifer's veins. How embarrassing this situation was- he prayed you would leave him with a shred of dignity and not acknowledge his arousal.

Unfortunately for him, your plans were much the opposite. You turned and positioned yourself to straddle the demon's lap. You kept your eyes on Lucifer's face even as the towel around your waist came undone and slid to the floor with a muffled crumpling. His blush deepened but he maintained eye contact.

Lucifer moved to stand, to remove you from your seat on his lap, to do something, but was halted in his tracks as you gently pushed him back against the seat.

"If you want me to get up, you have to ask nicely." Your voice was soft yet firm, and your demon clearly didn't know how to react. You watched his brain short circuit in real time and felt his cock jump against where it came into contact with your groin.

You provided him a moment of silence before speaking again, grabbing his chin to ensure he was looking you in the eye as you did so. "You also have to ask nicely if you want me to do anything else," smile continuing to bleed through your voice. Oh, to have the most powerful avatar of sin a blushing mess underneath you. It was truly a beautiful feeling.

"So? Do you have anything to say?"

"I- Please," Lucifer's voice had gained that desperate lilt. 'So pretty,' you thought.

At his plea you began grinding against his clothed erection, pulling sweet little moans from his lips. You bent down and left open mouthed kisses against his neck, unbuttoning his shirt just enough to expose his pectorals.

"Haah~" he moaned when you pinched a nipple, rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger.

You paused in your ministrations against his neck. "Good boy, Lucifer. You wanna start preppin' me, baby?"

Lucifer nodded, and you brought his fingers to your mouth and began to suck on them. Once thoroughly lubed with your spit, you released them for Lucifer to use on your hole. He started with one digit, gently pumping in and out as you ground down against his hand.

"Just like that," you whispered encouragement into his ear, small moans and panted breaths excaping your throat as he inserted a second, scissoring them to stretch you out.

You undid his belt, then the button and zipper, finally freeing his dick from his pants. It was red and swollen, weeping precum from how desperate you made him.

"So pretty for me, are you ready?" you asked, pumping him a few times to coat him with his arousal.

"Fuck- yes, MC," Lucifer was practically incoherent, and you hadn't even fucked him properly yet. 'Damn, how long's it been since he got laid?' you wondered.

With permission stated, you slid yourself down on his cock, both of you gasping at the sensation. Fuck, he filled you so nicely. You paused for a moment as you bottomed out, giving your demon a final chance to collect himself before you began bouncing vigorously on top of him.

Lucifer's hips bucked up into yours as you rode him, groans and moans coming from his lips as his head fell back against the chair.

"No," you pushed him down, "I'll tell you when you can fuck into me." He shut his eyes at the command, concentrating on keeping his own hips still as you continued chasing your own high atop the Morningstar. You kissed him, biting on his bottom lip to seek entrance, pushing your tongue into his mouth as reward for following orders.

It didn't take long for your legs to tire, your human stamina almost nothing compared to that of an ancient being. "Okay, baby, you can move," your words were gentle but halting as they stuttered with your breath.

Lucifer, ever your obedient demon, was quick to begin moving in time with the rhythm you had set. You moved in tandem, sucking on his neck and toying with his nipples as his cock slid in and out of your soaking hole.

The pleasure mounted, and you felt the coil deep in your stomach tighten. "Luci, 'm close," you murmured amongst pants and moans.

"Ah, MC, same, 'm gonna-"

"Cum with me, please, baby," and you clenched around him, eyes rolling back in your skull at the intensity of the orgasm. Lucifer came in time, cock shooting thick ropes of semen into you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

You rode out the orgasm, movements slowing as your breathing slowly came back to normal. Lucifer sat below, placing gentle kisses against your shoulder in between shuddering breaths, your hand tracing patterns against his back. The blissful silence continued, Lucifer cuddling into you even as his dick softened and slid out of you.

You spoke eventually, his quiet starting to concern. "Lucifer, are you okay?"

He simply nodded in response, a contented sigh escaping against your skin. You smiled, bringing your hand up to pet his head, a sweet whisper of 'good boy' parting your lips.

[aerkame]

Hey! I saw your HC’s about the versions of sun wukong’s. May I request “ Journey to the West: Legends of the Monkey King 2000? ” I really loved the show as a kid. I saw it on YouTube again and wondered about it! If..you saw this series that is. If not, I’ll take Netflix monkey king! It’s up to you!

I feel like doing both :p Also I'll be doing general HC because I'm not sure if you meant reader insert or just in general if this were in a fanfiction

Journey to the West: Legends of the Monkey King 2000

This monkey man is the definition of assertive

He sees something he likes? He makes it clear he will have it. There's a demon he wants to beat up? He'll talk about beating them up before actually following through with it. There's a person he wants to get with? He makes his intentions crystal clear to everyone around him without hesitation, heaven forbid you try to stop him, he will not allow it.

Surprisingly optimistic despite everything that has happened. There is nothing that can really bring down his mood once he's in a good one.

That means he's not exactly stable when he's in a rare bad mood. Just...give the guy some space if that happens.

Sometimes he'll accidentally break things or break someone. He just gets excitable and well...

Of course there's lots of apologies that ensue if the worst happens, though he doesn't like admitting he did something wrong.

Out of all the versions of Monkey King, this one is probably the most extroverted and friendly of the bunch. He for sure will make loads of friends if given the chance.

This version also seems to be the most open minded on things. Got something to say? He's all ears. Got something you want him to learn? He'll actually sit and listen (a rarity among Monkey kings)

Despite how loud and assertive he is, sometimes he can also be more quiet and gentle when the situation calls for it. It took some learned behavior from Tang though. But, it's a useful trait to have when you're someone like Monkey king.

Very energetic sometimes. He always needs to be doing something with his hands or going out and fighting stuff.

I'd assume this version is extremely protective of his SO if he has one.

Same can be said for his friends.

Would absolutely do everything he can to cheer someone up if they started crying in front of him. It really hurts to see someone so hurt...

Usually encourages people to be a better version of themselves (except Pigsy, he gave up on that guy)

Netflix Monkey King 2023

Oh boy where do I start?

If Leo the zodiac sign was a person, this would be him.

This guy, ooo- this guy really loves himself, and he makes sure everyone around him knows it too at every given chance.

Very confident in his ability to overcome any challenge or obstacle (he's just the best ain't he?)

Probably takes better care of himself and Stick than his own armor or anything else that's with him.

Would absolutely have a bunch of different shampoos, conditioners, and lotions in modern days. The guy loves to love himself, and look loved too.

Probably a huge flirt when he sees someone he mildly finds interest in. That or he'll just brag about himself to seem more impressive. (He's probably exaggerating)

Loves showing off

Modern version of him would probably be a lot more chilled out after the years, learning to just let things go and not be so impulsive or take things personally. He's still got a lot of work to do when it comes to letting people in though.

He's just afraid of losing people like Lin again you know? Right when he realizes he has a family, he loses them and sits isolated form the world for hundreds of years.

Usually prefers staying away from people, alone with Stick. Being alone as a kid does that to you.

Sometimes seeks out validation and love from crowds of people and fans.

He's a little more patient over the years, but just as chaotic.

Expect lots of malicious compliance from him. And pranks, he enjoys getting a good laugh out of others or just doing it for his own entertainment. (though he can border on just being a jerk)

Sometimes talks to Stick when he's alone, it's usually just him venting about things from the past.

Tends to get anxious when he's alone for too long or if there's a thunderstorm (doesn't need a lot of explaining to understand that).

Will be the sweetest monkey with someone he really likes. It's like he's a completely different person!

[a-zalea-garden]

How do you feel about the pride comic so far? :D

I actually hadn't sat down to read it until I got this ask, but the snippets I'd seen were ADORABLE. I'm writing this as I read it for the first time:

pg. 1: "Hypnosis was so much easier" HE WOULD! And him rehearsing with Whisp is so sweet. I love that they tied her and their friendship into the story more; I kind of thought she was done for good. Valentine hitting his face on the locker is SUCH a diary thing, too. I don't know if it was meant to be a callback or anything, but that's what it reminded me of. And Whisp saying "good luck!" while Kier is half-dead on the floor is PRICELESS. I love that he's still trying to make amends with Drac though.

pg. 2: Him blurting everything at once and then stopping to be all ✨composed✨ is perfect. UGH but the accent. Kieran, dear, she knows you're Romanian. I like the call back, though, and if you really look into it, it's a reflex because he's embarrassed and panicked. I LOVE the cut between him saying "it's fine" and him absolutely panicking, all zoned-out. It's such a simple thing that's meant to be comedic but it really shows us how he thinks and how vulnerable he is in a world without his prestige.

pg. 3 BIG SPELLDON REVEAL DUN DUN DUUUUUN!!! I love the small details of his character design that bring him to life, like the rings on his fingers and the mole on his lip. and the necklaces <3. Valentine IMMEDIATELY crumpling the paper in his big dramatic moment is so silly. And spelldon ignoring it and just taking a rose. It's such an easy, domestic kind of moment. And they're both so pretty ugh the close ups. "Like my soul" ok princess val 🙄 and spelldon worried, "You still love draculaura?" I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SPELLDON CAULDRONELLO

pg. 4: the moment of realization is priceless. Kieran is just in awe of this man. and Spelldon is just so enthusiastic about it (I love how he's just like 'this is dumb' but goes along with it anyway. Okay mr. malicious compliance). The height difference is also perfect to me. It makes sense that Spelldon is way taller because he's part (like 70% ish if I remember right from that time I did a pedigree) god. Casta's tall too isn't she? Valentine lost in his own little world ❤️ my little yapper.

pg. 5: Valentine trying to be over prepared, he's so me. And it's a nice (probably unintentional) callback to his diary where he says "better have it and not need it than need it and not have it." Spelldon's blunt humor is one of my favorite things ever. And him flattering Kieran about biteology >>> ugh they're so sweet. Val's facial expressions are so funny too he's so dramatic. Him trying to be humble and change the subject when Spelldon compliments him is so cute. AAAA they're so sweet.

pg. 6: Spelldon being all nonchalant while Val is literally falling over is so them. That is such a fun dynamic for them to have and I love it so much. I don't even know how to describe or "analyze" it because it just feels so naturally them that there's nothing to point out as "unusual." AAA Spelldon catching Val is such a sweet moment in the comic. Poor Val has his eyes closed, he can't even see Spell's face when it happens. And his hand is HOVERING over Val's back; he's not even touching him and he's blushing like that. I don't even think I need to mention the smirks (they're so precious)(Spells had an eyebrow slit this whole time and I just didn't see it??😭)

pg. 7: EEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAA Val you're going to give poor Spelldon a heart attack leave him alone. He's so dramatic clasping his hands like that. The mausoleum is really cute though, I approve. If I were a vengeful ghost, this would be my haunt (get it?). Spelldon having this whole plan thought out to get the ingredients when he's the one who thought it was a useless plan to start with 🤨 okay Spelldon we all see what you're doing. Especially since the whole plan is to get Val clinging to him. Scarah to the rescue!!! Not the return of the accent val STOP PLEASE. I'm glad they're talking about it, though. And he doesn't do it to spelldon 👀 because he's being himself with spelldon and doesn't feel the outside pressures to be someone else. He subconsciously knows that spelldon will accept who he is. Spelldon's face when Val admits that is priceless. BUT SPELLDON NOOOOOO WATCH OUT!

pg. 8: Val regretting the potion because he's in loooooove is so cute to see. "A couple thousand years" you want to spend a couple thousand years with your feelings for Spelldon awww. And he doesn't even act like he needs them to be reciprocated. Like, duh we all know what he's doing, but he never spells (pun unintentional but fully embraced) it out. The bracelet too from the Val's rose is a sweet little detail. Especially since they chose to give us THAT angle for that panel. They wanted us to see that in this moment. Valentine voicing his development is perfect. He really has grown and learned so much. SPELLDON WHAT?????? NOOOOO! and Val immediately regretting this whole thing because oh nooo Spelldon won't love him (🤨)

pg. 9: Okay Spelldon you trickster. "You really think i'd let you excise your emotions like that" (okay mom) "Yes? I asked you to!" Bro. That's super sweet though, he's been looking out for him this whole time, but couldn't just tell him no. Awww he wanted to spend time with him. AWWW VAL. I'm surprised Val didn't feel the love but maybe i've been reading his powers wrong. And then we have The Moment™ of course. Aww

pg. 10: Aw he and Drac made up. I'm glad they got closure from everything (the Pit Incident... and everything beforehand). WOAH val is so pretty, that turning panel??? Spelldon watching silently from the sidelines all proud. We have to remember that he met Spelldon BEFORE Whisp (and long before the two of them had their makeshift therapy sessions), and the day of the dance (where he failed his attempt to fix everything) from the original comics. He was still a mess then. He has been here since then, and got to see him grow. KIERAN VALENTINE FULL NAME RAHHHH COME OUT YE BLACK AND TANS COME OUT AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN🇮🇪💪i'm glad they're pushing that because so many people think Valentine is his full name, it's actually crazy. Whisp wanting to meet Spelldon 👀 I need to see that now too! And Val ignoring her to hold Spelldon's hands, he's so clingy. I guess he has been this entire time with his yapping. And they walk into the sunset!!!

THE END!!!

I don't know if I wrote WAYYY too much, but I wanted to make sure I gave my full reaction (because lets face it, we've been starved for a while. thats why I got into fanfic like three-ish years ago). The notes got progressively longer as I went 😭

All in all I absolutely adore the comic. It's such a sweet glimpse into Valentine's growth and development, and I'm so glad to finally have a real Spelldon. The entire thing is such a good slice-of-life story that just feels calm and domestic and unforced, like there is no antagonist or unneeded tension to force things along. It's just Spell and Val.

[selfindulgentpixies]

So I wrote a very self indulgent Satoru Gojo x reader fic to cope with a couple of bad sensory overload days I had a week or two ago and it's just been sitting in my drafts half finished until tonight. Got a boost of spiteful inspiration since I spent most of today in bed with a migraine.

Contains: gn!reader, mentions of sensory overload, brief mentions of getting ill, Gojo being sweet and taking care of you, reader has a cat, reader wears glasses

Take me home tonight

Gojo could tell something was wrong as soon as you’d walked into the meeting late, not just late but later than him, looking frazzled. Even if you shared his disdain for the higher ups you played your role well enough, always on time, students cared for, work taken care of with what could sometimes be considered malicious compliance if you were pushed the wrong way. But that wasn’t the you he saw try to quietly slip into the meeting.  You looked washed out, nauseous even. It wasn’t helped when the higher ups tried to lay into you for being so late. You looked panicked which is when he swept in. Taking their attention off you. He’s not even sure you take in anything that’s being said but you at least send him a small and grateful smile. 

The meeting is barely over before you’re getting up to leave, ignoring any protest at your abrupt exit. He quickly finds you when he leaves, between his long strides and six eyes it’s easy to find you and catch up to you. You’ve stopped to sit, heels of your hands pressed against your eyes and your glasses dangling loosely from your fingers. He plops down on the bench next to you and speaks. “Mind telling me what that was all about?” He doesn’t miss how you flinch at his voice.  He’s known you long enough to catch on and his voice is quieter the next time he speaks. “One of those days then?”

You give a jerky lil nod, still covering your eyes. Even though your lenses on your glasses were transitions they weren’t activated by the lights inside the building, the barely there default tint of them not enough at the moment which was probably why you were just holding them and sitting with your eyes covered. “Y-yeah. Had a mission in the city, dealt with a curse that could manipulate light, and everytime it attacked it let out a high pitched buzzing noise, it was like the world’s worst rave and then I came straight here for the meeting.” He frowns a bit at that. Really you should have just gone home. 

“You don’t even like normal raves.” His tone isn’t something you’re able to parse at the moment, but there’s a playful enough note to it that it gets you to smile just a little.. 

“You’re right, I don’t.” 

Still speaking softly, so much so that only you can hear him even as other staff pass by. “You went into the crowded city,” you nod, “went to hell’s light show,” you nod again at his words, “And still decided to go back through the city to sit in a brightly lit meeting room and deal with the higher ups?” 

“That sums it up, yeah.” You part your fingers ever so slightly to glance at him but quickly close them. 

He sighs. “Here, keep your eyes closed but move your hands.” 

“Gojo?” You question as you hear the shifting of fabric. 

“It’s fine just move your hands,” he gently coaxes you and you feel his cool dry hands gently pull your own from your face. Then he’s gently tugging something over your head and you realize he’s putting his blindfold on you, the thick soft cloth finally blocking out all light. Instead of tucking it behind your ears he pulls it slightly lower so it covers them and at least partially softens the sounds around you. You’re both quiet for several moments until he takes your glasses and tucks them into his pocket. You don’t see that of course but you trust him to not break the things you need to see since you’ll want to see again eventually.  “You still with me?” 

“Y-yeah, thank you. Don’t you need this though?”

You don’t see him shrug but he does it anyway. “I’ll be fine without it for a bit. I’ve got my sunglasses if it gets bad. I think you need it a lot more than me right now. Do you want me to take you home? You can’t make it there blind so i’ll-” 

“Gojo, if you teleport me right now I’ll probably throw up on you.” 

“Gross.”

“I’m just being honest.”

He hums in thought. “How about I just carry you to my office then? It’s nice and cool in there and I can draw the blinds.” 

You’re quiet for a moment and he almost asks again until you nod. “Y-yeah alright.” 

When he picks you up he does so with care, making sure he doesn’t do anything unexpected. Normally the idea of being touched by Gojo would be much more pleasant but each point of contact makes your clothes rub more uncomfortably against your skin. You don’t complain though and just let him carry you. You tuck your head into his neck. You’ll probably feel mortified later but right now all you care about is being somewhere dark and quiet.  You think you hear some of the students start to speak to him and maybe begin freaking out when they see that he’s carrying you but his energy shifts slightly and you hear him shush them. Surprisingly they immediately comply. You imagine it has everything to do with the shift in his energy and not respecting the fact that they’d  been hushed. 

There’s the soft sound of a door opening and then being closed again before you find yourself being set on a comfortable chair. “Just get some rest alright? I’ll be back.” 

“Thank you, Gojo.” You curl up in the chair and he smiles a little at you. 

–

You’re a little surprised later when you open your eyes and are faced with complete darkness. Your brain is hazy and takes a moment to catch back up to you. You vaguely remember the conversation with Gojo and him slipping his blindfold on you- oh. Right. You reach toward your face and push up the dark fabric. You blink in the low light of the room. Gojo is at his desk, looking terribly bored of doing his paperwork in the dim lamplight. At least you think he looks bored with how he’s resting his cheek on his fist and holding a document in his other hand. You can’t really see anything else without your glasses.

He perks up when he notices you looking at him. “Hey there, feeling any better?” His voice is still quiet just in case your ears were still sensitive. He gets up and grabs something from his desk before walking over to you. You can now see that he’s holding your glasses. 

“Yeah, still a lil fuzzy but definitely better.” You give him a sleepy but grateful smile. He almost wishes you hadn’t taken your glasses back because he knows that as your vision comes back into focus you’re now able to see how pink his cheeks are. You look so cute half asleep and it’s not really a vulnerable moment he’d ever thought he’d get to see you in. Especially not curled up in his office with his blindfold sitting part way on your head leaving your hair mussed up. You sit up and stretch, arching your back in a way that gets his eyes to track over your body before you pull the blindfold the rest of the way off your head and press it into his hand. “Really thank you. I hate to say it but I was on verge of tears before you helped me out.” 

He pulls the blindfold over his head but lets it rest around his neck instead of pulling it over his eyes. “It’s no problem really. You weren’t acting like yourself. Next time just go home if you feel that way. I’ll cover for you if you need me to.” 

You scratch at the back of your neck. “You already do so much, I don’t feel like I should be asking you to do that.” 

He shakes his head. “I mean it. Gives me an excuse to give those old bastards a hard time.”

You snort. “As if you need me to give you an excuse.” 

He smiles but otherwise doesn’t respond to that particular comment. “I do mean it. I think you might be surprised by how well I understand what you were going through. It’s not exactly the same but there’s a reason I always have my eyes covered.” 

“Yeah alright then… I’ll let you know next time.” 

His smile widens into a grin, bringing out his dimples.”Good. Now how about I bring you home now? I doubt you want to deal with the trains.”

“Gojo, if I throw up-”

“Then that’s literally on me.”

“Gross,” you echo his comment from earlier. 

—-

You don’t get sick from being teleported but it’s a near thing as you lean heavily against Gojo in your entryway. He raises an eyebrow at you. “You gonna be alright?” 

“Y-yeah I’m good.” You let out a slow breath before taking your weight off him and toeing off your shoes in the entryway. “Did you want to come in for a bit? I won’t be up for long but I should fix something to eat. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. 

Gojo studies you for a moment, and without his blindfold in place you feel exposed. “How about I order us takeout then?”

“I don’t know if I should eat anything greasy right now.”

“I can order you some soup. I know a place.”

You consider his offer for a moment before nodding. “Yeah okay. Sounds good.” You begin to walk toward the main part of your apartment. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up while you order food. Make yourself at home okay?” 

He hums in the affirmative before you vanish into your room. 

—

When you emerge a bit later you’re wearing a clean pair of sweatpants and one of your sleep shirts, which was really just an oversized band-t. You’ve made a half hearted attempt to dry your hair with a towel. The apartment is filled with the smell of food making your stomach growl and drawing you more quickly to the main part of your apartment.  Gojo has made himself comfortable just like you’d told him to. There’s containers of food spread out in front of him on your coffee table and he’s relaxed into the love seat with your cat on the back by his head. The little shit sniffing and chewing at his hair, which you suppose meant Gojo passed your feline companion’s test for being allowed to exist in your space. But what really gets your attention is how Gojo has discarded his work jacket and is just sitting there in a tight black t-shirt that clings to him like a second skin. It takes your breath away a little because while you knew he was probably muscular in theory it just never really sank in because he always wore such baggy clothes. 

“You just going to keep standing there staring holes into me or are you gonna join me for dinner?” His voice is full of amusement.  

You squeak. Of course he noticed you. “S-sorry. I was just surprised. My cat doesn’t normally like when there are men in the apartment he doesn’t know.” It’s only a half lie.

Gojo snorts and glances back at you. “You have a lot of strange men over?” He says in a teasing tone.

“No. Just.. he hates whenever maintenance is here and he attacked poor Nanami’s leg once when he stopped by.” 

Oh now that makes Gojo laugh, loudly in fact, though he quietens himself down to chuckles when he notices you flinch at the noise. “Maybe your cat is a bad judge of character, liking me more than Nanami,” he surprises you by saying at his own expense. 

“No, I think he just picked up on how at ease you seem to be here,” you say this reflexively though a second thought occurs to you moment after when you remember how Gojo had carried you and you’d buried your face in his neck. Your scent must be clinging to him and especially to his blindfold that he's still wearing around his neck. The thought makes you blush and he tilts his head at you for a moment before gesturing for you to come sit down, patting the cushion beside him.

You suddenly wish your apartment wasn’t so sparsely furnished but since it was normally just you here the only place to sit in the living room really is directly next to Gojo. You consider saying you should move to the kitchen table but did you actually want to miss an opportunity to be so close to Gojo when he was offering it? The answer was apparently ‘no’ as you make your way over. He crosses his legs to make room for you and you take your seat next to him. At your arrival your cat mrrps and headbutts the back of your head before leaving. 

“Now-” Gojo leans forward picking up a container and a spoon for you, “go ahead and eat.” Once he’s sure you have a good grip and aren’t going to drop hot soup on the two of you he grabs his own food and sits back, his arm brushing against you. The two of you eat in silence your arms occasionally knocking into each other as you fill your empty stomachs. 

Before long you’re drowsily sagging to the side and Gojo is gently taking the mostly empty container from your hands. This causes you to jerk and blink up at him groggily. “Ah sorry-”

He chuckles. “You don’t need to apologize, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you head to bed? I’ll clean up and head out after alright?” 

You feel a little guilty. “You don’t need to clean up, Gojo.” 

He holds up a hand. “It’s not a big deal really. You just get some rest.” 

He stands and stretches, and he reminds you a bit of a very oversized cat. his fingers brushing your low ceiling. Then he’s holding a hand out to you and pulling you up from the loveseat.  The two of you say your goodnights and goodbyes before you shuffle your way to your room. He stands there in your living room with an impossibly fond smile on his face.  He catches your cat giving him what could be a judgmental stare from the corner of his eye. “Bet you think I should have asked them out, huh?” The cat just flicks his tail unimpressed. You, unaware of the small exchange between Gojo and your feline companion, fall asleep to the sounds of Gojo cleaning up.

The next morning you wake up to the chime of your phone. You bink blearily and fumble for your phone. When you unlock the screen you see you have a message from Gojo. 

Gojo: hey I hope you’re feeling better this morning. if you’re up to it do you want to come meet me for breakfast? i’d like to ask you something.

You sit up and rub at your face before responding. 

You: can’t you ask me over text? 

Gojo: it’s something i’d rather ask you in person. so will you? 

You: sounds a bit ominous but ok

Gojo: it’s nothing bad I swear! 

You grin sleepily to yourself. 

You: yeah yeah you’re just trying to lure me into a false sense of security

Gojo: you wound me!! i would never. sooo meet me in 30 minutes? 

You: not giving me much time to wake up huh? 

His next message is the location of a cafe not far from your apartment. He apparently took your question as a yes. 

So you get up and scramble to get ready, you’re still a bit disheveled but you're comfortable enough around Gojo to not really care. As you shoo your cat away from the door so you can slip out you have no idea that when you return home it’ll be with your soon to be boyfriend.

____

And that's it! I just needed a comfort fic so i wrote it myself. I'm still working on chapter 7 of my Satoru x reader x Suguru fic. It's just taking time to pull together

@nanamikentoseyebags @strawberrystepmom @gojoest

[immeasurablesaladagere]

I hope really hope you’re doing good :33 II wanted to know if you would ever do cg!Alfred and agere!bruce or cg!Gordon and agere!bruce type of content? Like any :3? I would love any of it hehe, I love your headcanons and tuff :3

An order of headcanons coming up!

Bruce regresses to any age before his parents were killed, so anything less than 8. I'd say his age sort of hinges on who's watching him. If he's on his own he'll be closer to 6 or 7 so he can still be responsible for himself, 5-6 with Gordon, and babyspace and up with Alfred because he has the most trust in him.

He's been regressing to some degree since he was a teenager and Alfred's always helped. It's kind of 70-30 involuntary to voluntary and is usually triggered by exhaustion or strong feelings after a mission.

Bruce "Extended-Periods-of-Silence-Mean-Nothing-Good" Wayne likes to play hide-and-seek without asking Alfred or Gordon to play with him, so he just... vanishes. And despite being the size of a grown man, is very, scarily good at it. This kid is in the ceiling rafters, climbing onto a light fixture, in the dryer, etc. Once they were doing renovations on the manor and there was a patch of drywall they had taken off and I'm sure you can see where this is going, but Alfred found him 30 minutes later because he heard giggling from inside the walls.

Bruce has a star projector for his room and has it going constantly. He actually really likes the dark but the star projector is just cooler. He'd just sit in his room staring up at the ceiling for hours if Alfred didn't force him to get some sunlight. The projector is one of his favourite "games".

Most of his toys are soft things like plushies or sensory toys. He doesn't really like the electronic ones that make a lot of noise and he likes the feeling of soft fabric on his skin and spends a lot of time petting them.

He likes old-school Nintendo games and most Mario platformers when he's feeling a bit older.

Plays elaborate games of School, Doctor, House, etc. with his stuffed animals with ongoing serialized plots that he remembers meticulously. He's made props, costumes, set pieces, the whole thing. It's very professional.

Most of the time his playing-pretend is wholesome, but occasionally he vents some of his feelings about hard missions via the scenes.

Little Bruce is picky as heck. An absolute nightmare to cook for. Only band carbs and perhaps a little bit of spaghetti sauce in a little separate cup. No vegetables, no fruit except for apples and blueberries, no spices, nothing fried, no mixed foods like pizza or soups. Alfred's got the menu down and even manages to sneak vegetables in there sometimes but Gordon doesn't even try, just gives him his bowl of plain pasta and an apple and avoids the struggle.

Alfred reads him bedtime stories but they're not traditional short children's books. Only chapter books, and he'll read one chapter every night (ish). The Hobbit, Charlotte's Web, and all of Harry Potter are all on the table.

Bruce is such a passive-aggressive child. If he's grumpy then he starts getting "malicious-compliance" on everything.

"Master Bruce, could you please help empty the dishwasher?"

Bruce, silently angry about having his game interrupted: "Okay."

Alfred returns later to all the dishwasher dishes outside of the dishwasher, on the counter in one big pile and not put away.

When his stuffed animals are being washed, Bruce sits in front of the washing machine and watches them spin and then dry until they come out.

Poor Gordon doesn't know what to do with him. Just gives him a bag of Goldfish and lets him mess around in his office until Alfred can get him.

[shadamyheadcanons]

Shifting Gears

Written for Shadamy Week 2023. I had something longer planned, but I got the date wrong, so it’s not done yet X_X

I did finish this for the Joyride prompt, though! Warnings: suggestive flirtation, a car chase, and malicious compliance.

Cross-posted on AO3

--

Amy sighed and settled back in the passenger seat. She cast a tired look at Sonic.

Are these dates or not?! We keep hanging out one-on-one and he doesn’t run from me like he used to, but he won’t make a move. Every time I try, he shies away! I can’t deal with these mixed messages! She grumbled. No more beating around the bush. I will not leave this car tonight until I get a straight answer. She nodded curtly, satisfied with her plan.

Amy focused back on the road. She cringed when she noticed just how swiftly their surroundings were whizzing by. “Sonic, maybe you should slow down. This is a little fast.”

Sonic grinned beside her, one hand on the wheel, the very image of casual relaxation. “What do you mean? This is nothing! I run faster than this all the time!”

“Yeah, but you’re not usually in a two-ton hunk of metal!” A horn honked on Amy’s right as they zoomed past, and a car skidded to a stop in their wake.

Sonic laughed. “I know, it’s great! Good thing I’ve got good reflexes, right?” He cranked up the volume on the radio and sang along in his strident voice. “I...can’t...drive...FIFTY-FIVE!”

Amy winced at the sound and tried another approach. “Sonic, if you keep speeding, you’ll get pulled over!”

Sonic snorted. “Nah, not in this town. They know they can’t catch me. They gave up before I even started driving.”

As if on cue, red and blue lights started flashing behind them, and a siren blared to life. “HAH!” Amy cackled. “See?”

Sonic’s eyes narrowed as he peered in the rearview mirror. “Huh. So someone wants to play, huh?” He smirked...and stepped on it.

Amy yelped and latched onto her seatbelt. “Sonic, what are you doing?! You have to pull over!”

She could still hear Sonic’s chuckle over the elevated hum of his engine. “Not if they don’t catch me, I--!”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a loud, low snarl behind them. Amy could practically feel the roar of the other car’s engine.

She looked over her shoulder, just barely making out the sharp outlines of a black sports car in the night. It weaved through the other cars, rapidly gaining on them. Sonic’s face twitched, but he sped up further, jerking them forward. “I dunno who that is or what they’re packing, but it’s no match for the Civic Tails souped up for me!”

Amy looked forward in time to see the stoplight turn yellow in front of them. She glanced frantically between it and Sonic. “Sonic, it’s turning red!”

He ignored her and swerved left across the intersection, making her squeak and grab onto her seat. He deftly maintained control of the wheel as he slid into the lane in front of them. “HAH!”

His answer was a resounding growl from the sports car behind them. It shot through the intersection just before the light could change, staying right on their tail.

Sonic’s jaw clenched. “What kind of car is that?”

“I don’t know sports cars,” she snapped. “It’s a cop car! Does it matter?!”

Sonic took a quick left turn, making her quills stand on end. “Well, yeah, kinda! Does it have a logo?”

She felt pain in her foot and looked down to realize she’d been reflexively pressing it into the floor where the brake would be. She grumbled.

Next time, I’m driving!

Amy turned her upper body around, squinting against the flashing lights. Her gaze slid down the flat hood and between the angled headlights to rest on the shield-shaped logo. “It looks like some kind of animal with horns.”

Sonic hit a small bump, making her yelp again, but he sounded unfazed. “Like...a ram? It’s not a Dodge Charger, is it?”

She examined the logo more closely. “No, it looks more like...a bull?”

The color drained out of Sonic’s face. The choked noise that came from his throat was quickly drowned out by a husky roar from their pursuer’s engine as it gained on them.

“That’s...not a Charger. That’s a Lambo.”

Amy did a double-take. “Wait, ‘Lambo,’ as in a Lamborghini? Like the ones Tails is always raving about?!” Silence. “That’s faster than your car, isn’t it?”

Sonic kept driving for a moment, mouth hanging open in hesitation. Then, he gritted his teeth. “There’s more to driving than performance, and I know these streets better than anyone. Hang on!”

With that, he launched into a series of skillful, dizzying hairpin turns. Time after time, though, the Lamborghini stayed right on their tail, not backing down an inch, roaring in their ears.

Amy’s knuckles went white from gripping her seat. “Sonic, I know you know what you’re doing, but you can’t keep this up!”

Sonic stared straight ahead, eyes wide and uncertain. He frowned and took a quick right turn, then stomped on the accelerator. “Better wrap this up. Don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Amy’s heart pounded. That’s not what I meant--!

After one last straightaway and a couple turns, Amy heard the roar of the engine behind them fade out. Sonic’s ear twitched, and he smirked. “I think I got ’em! One sec...”

Sonic swerved down a narrow, secluded side street and slowed down. He peeked in the rearview mirror and laughed breathlessly. “WHOO! Haven’t had a chase that good in a while! How are you holding up?”

Amy met his exhilarated smile with a livid glare, panting in cold fury. “Sonic, why didn’t you stop? This is serious!”

Sonic grimaced and looked back at the dark road in front of them. “Ah, well...I...” His shoulders dropped. He sighed. “...I’m broke. I couldn’t pay for a ticket if I got one.”

His face twisted, as if he were bracing himself to be yelled at. She exhaled forcefully and rubbed her temples, trying to hold in her frustrations.

Maybe if you’d hold down a steady job like the rest of us, that wouldn’t be a problem! Even Tails is working as a mechanic!

The snarl of a familiar engine roared to life right in front of them, and a set of headlamps and red and blue lights lit up, practically blinding them. Both hedgehogs yelped in panic. Sonic immediately swerved down the one street that was left between them and the car.

It was a dead end.

With a groan of unease, Sonic slammed on the brakes at the end of the alley, knowing they were trapped. He whipped his head over to Amy and gave his most charming smile. “Hey Ames, do you have any money I could borrow?”

Amy’s jaw dropped, and rage boiled in her gut. “Sonic, I told you to pull over, and you ignored me. You got yourself into this mess. I’m not lending you a single ring.”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and looked away with a huff. Sonic’s quiet whine was drowned out by the growl of the Lamborghini pulling in behind them. She ignored it.

What she couldn’t ignore, though, was Sonic’s sudden, quiet noise of realization and the shuffling motions he made...before zipping into the back seat and unceremoniously lifting her body to plop her into the driver’s seat.

Amy squealed and flailed. “Sonic, what are you--!”

“Ames, you know the cops hate me!” Sonic pleaded in her ear. “Last time I ran into them, they put me in jail on Prison Island! I would’ve been stuck there for the rest of my life if you hadn’t broken me out!”

The panic in his voice was real. Despite her frustrations, her heart melted in sympathy as she heard the cop’s car door shut behind them.

Finally he admits it. He always, always gives Tails credit for that. Why’d he have to acknowledge my part now?

Her throat tightened. “Sonic, I...”

“Just...y’know, sweet talk him a little?” he wheedled. “He’ll go easier on you!”

Amy balked, and she whipped her head around, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re...you’re actually asking me to flirt with the cop to get you out of this?” she whimpered, the words barely squeezing themselves out of her throat. “When you’re right there watching?”

Both of them glanced back as the cop’s dark silhouette approached. Amy’s heart raced.

Sonic clasped his hands together and pleaded, eyes full of genuine fear. “Amy, you’re the prettiest girl I know! I know you can do it!”

His words left a weight in her heart, heavier than before.

He’s not even doing it on purpose. He said it now, of all times, and he doesn’t have any idea how much that hurts.

The last few footsteps landed outside Amy’s door. She was out of time.

Amy rolled down the window. She pulled her face into a nervous smile...and her eyes widened at who she saw.

Spiky quills came into view as a familiar hedgehog stood outside her window, holding a hand to his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut in agitation. “Sonic, do you have any idea how...” His eyes slid open, and his expression instantly softened. “Amy?”

She gave a pained smile and hid half of her face. “Hi, Shadow.” She didn’t miss Sonic’s inquisitive noise behind her.

Shadow kept staring at her, clearly baffled. She inclined her head just slightly toward the back seat where Sonic was hiding. He followed the subtle nod, and his eyes widened in realization. He gave her an incredulous look, as if to say, Really now?!

She nodded shyly. He just shook his head.

As he did so, Amy couldn’t help but notice his attire. Although she wasn’t as police-adverse as Sonic was, Amy had never held any kind of soft spot for the uniform...at least until now. The black slacks and belt suited Shadow well, and the standard blue button-up shirt hugged his torso in a flattering way. He’d chosen to leave the top two buttons open to show off his chest fur, and he’d rolled his sleeves up to expose his toned forearms, highlighting the red stripe on each arm that ran underneath his gloves. It was hardly a conventional way to wear the uniform, but the rakish style complimented his looks and personality well. Even the plain hat sat slightly askew on his head, setting off his wild quillstyle.

By the time Amy’s gaze reached Shadow’s face, he was wearing a look of bewilderment, as if no one had ever looked at him that way before.

Amy felt her cheeks burn brightly. “Um--!” She was caught between saying ‘you somehow look better with clothes on’ and ‘sorry if I’m drooling.’ She shook it off and instead stammered out, “S-so, um...when did you become a traffic cop?”

Shadow’s confused look made way for clear exasperation. He exhaled and let his head roll back slightly. “The police force at Station Square recently had a few retirees, and they’re short on people who know the law well enough to do the job. G.U.N. sent a few agents to help them fill in the gaps for now.” He grumbled under his breath. “Ten years at G.U.N, and they send me to hand out tickets.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “It’s been ten years? That’s some serious commitment.”

Shadow nodded and grew serious. “And ever since Towers resigned, they’ve been better about sending us places where we can actually do some good for people.”

The tiny smile on Shadow’s face warmed Amy’s heart.

He’s really come into his own over the years, hasn’t he?

Shadow’s nose wrinkled. “Can’t say this is my favorite assignment, though.”

“That boring, huh?”

Shadow chuckled under his breath and put a hand on his hip. “The most excitement I’ve had all week was chasing this car down and finding you, of all people, behind the wheel.” The smirk he gave her made Amy’s heart flutter. She smiled back.

Then, an idea struck her. A very devious idea. Her smile turned coy.

You want me to flirt with the cop, Sonic? Oh, I’ll flirt with him, alright.

Amy shifted closer to the window. She shrugged casually. “That’s too bad. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in this more often.” She reached out and slid her fingertips up his forearm, keeping eye contact as she did so.

Shadow’s eyes traced the crawl of her fingers, then met her gaze once more. He gave her a flat look, evidently confused.

This isn’t going to work. Does Shadow even know what flirting is?

Amy bit her lip. She flicked her eyes toward the back seat meaningfully, and Shadow’s expression lit up in realization. A slow smirk spread across his face.

“Is that so? You might see a lot of me if you keep living dangerously.”

Sonic made a confused noise from the back seat. Amy’s smirk grew to match Shadow’s.

Oh, he knows.

Shadow pulled out a notepad and quirked a brow at her. “I always thought you were sweet. Speeding, swerving, endangering other drivers, evading a police officer...when did you get so bad?”

She giggled. “Maybe there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Oh, really?” Shadow leaned in closer. “I might have to take you back to the station to find out more.”

Amy scoffed. “Don’t think it’ll be that easy. I don’t go down without a fight. You think you can handle me?”

Shadow chuckled darkly. “I know I can.” He matched her heated smirk.

I guess you can’t hang around Rouge all the time and not know what flirting is...but he doesn’t talk to her like this, does he?

Her tone turned sly. “Are you sure you’re put together enough for that? You seem a little sloppy to me.”

To make her point, she lightly dragged her hand up to point at his exposed chest fur, only to stall when she got there. Her eyes widened a little at the contact, and she automatically ran her fingers through it for a moment.

It’s so soft! Has he always been this soft?! It’s not like I’ve never hugged him, but I never noticed--!

“You know, Amy, it’s usually the officers who do the frisking.”

“Huh?”

Amy’s gaze snapped up from Shadow’s fur to his face, where a more genuine smile was threatening to show itself. She felt his chest shake under her hand from his quiet laughter. Her cheeks flamed, and she whipped her hand back to hide half of her face, feeling herself laugh along with him in embarrassment. “Sorry!”

“I don’t mind.”

The words, and his grin, were sincere. She beamed up at him past her hand.

I’ve been flirting for years, but no one’s ever flirted back. Is it always this much fun?

He shook his head, and his smirk turned roguish again. “So do you do that to everyone? I might have to bring you down to the station after all.”

“Yeah? You think it’ll be that easy?” Amy teased, leaning out toward him.

His eyes burned brightly, and his voice dropped an octave. “Why don’t you step out of the car and find out? Some people actually like being put in handcuffs, you know.”

“Okay, OKAY, I’LL PAY THE DAMN TICKET!” Sonic blurted, scrambling into the passenger seat. He was red up to his ears. Shadow and Amy burst out laughing.

Shadow took out a pen and started to write. “Let’s see...excessive speeding, neglecting to use turn signals, reckless driving, evading the police...”

A quiet whimper escaped Sonic’s throat. “Can you maybe go a little easy on me, Shads?”

Amy felt irritation starting to creep back in.

A ruthless glare dropped onto Shadow’s face as well. “After that? You’re lucky I’m not arresting you.”

Sonic flinched, then tried one more time. “Please? One speedster to another?”

Shadow stared at his rival, the silence hanging heavily over them. He sighed and shut his eyes. He wrote one more word on the notepad, ripped off the ticket, and handed it over. “I pretended you wore a seatbelt. You’re welcome.”

Amy smiled and shook her head as she gave the ticket to Sonic, who groaned at what he saw.

Well, that was different. Was Shadow really just messing with Sonic, or was some of that...real?

“As for you, Miss Rose...”

Amy jumped. “Huh?”

Shadow ripped off another ticket and started writing something on the back of it. His typical, solemn frown had returned. “Deceiving an officer is generally frowned upon, but...”

He folded the paper in half and handed it to her, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“You’re cute, so I’ll let you off with a warning.”

With a cheeky wink, he strode back to his car and fired up the engine again. Baffled, she unfolded the paper.

‘You can do better.’

Amy giggled and held the note close to her chest as the sound of the Lamborghini receded.

No mixed messages here.

--

((If this story seems familiar, it’s because I wrote the first half of it a year ago, accidentally posted it before it was done, then deleted it out of panic and didn’t get around to re-writing it until now. Could’ve been a bit more polished, but I wanted to have something in time. Also, the car Shadow’s driving is my favorite Lamborghini, the Gallardo.))

[izzyspussy]

AND ANOTHER THING. one of the songs on the first izzy's new band album where it's all just his songs and 50/50 him singing them vs jim singing them (based on a rating of emotionalism much like jason thegoodplace's rating for dancers where sometimes izzy sings the song because jim doesn't Get It and it won't be heartbreaking enough with their vocals and then on the other end sometimes jim sings the song because izzy Can't), one of the songs is I Would Die For You (irl by miley cyrus, and tbh gives me the exact vibes of what i imagine this album to be so i'm honestly confused when people are like what a nice love song :) when i'm over here listening to it as one of the world's most agonizing breakup songs, but anyway).

and then sometime post court case (so post more bitter less sweet breakup song by izzy & jim that features the ya-yas from ed's somewhat mean song about izzy from the old band), ed drops his own insta/youtube cover and it's of that song. it's of izzy's love song that he never got to record when it was relevant and recorded later as a breakup song instead lyrics unchanged. about ed. and ed covered it. after he sued izzy for his other breakup song that sampled from his mean song about izzy that he made izzy co-write and record with him in their old band. are you listening. he sings izzy's song about him about izzy.

anyway so then of course everyone is like ARE they getting back together. and actually i think ed does this post get back together and break up again, actually, but pre stede's comeback. and like people didn't know that they did get back together because it was so short lived and also because ed kind of pulled a bit of a Malicious Compliance thing on izzy where he was like well bitch if you wanna be fucking closeted i guess we're fucking CLOSETED closeted (which of course was NOT what izzy wanted at all, but then also add in a layer of now izzy Knows ahead of time that this is a shit ass relationship that they Shouldn't be in so now he actually does have - in his opinion - a real reason to actually be ashamed of it and,). but yeah so ed drops this cover and he's doing it basically to tell izzy. because like izzy doesn't have a restraining order against him but ed thinks he should so he's kind of just acting like he does and doing No Contact for izzy's comfort (without asking if that's what izzy wants of course). but anyway so he definitely for sure has No other way of telling izzy how he feels or apologizing or anything. so he covers this song to tell izzy that he feels much the same way about how their relationship went and how it's tragic and he has regrets and he's sorry and he loved him then and he loves him now and he wishes he could have said it when it would have made a difference and things could have been better. and that he understands now how izzy felt then and feels now and they're on the same page, and that page is the page when heracles awakens from his madness and sees what he's done.

and THEN. THEN!!! after stede's comeback and amicable takeover of ed's label and ed finally starts making pop music that is Good and after izzy's band with jim gets back together in his garage and after stede starts trying to get them to sign to the label - and in the interim ed and izzy HAVE NOT SPOKEN except obliquely through their music - THEY FUCKING. DO A DUET REMIX OF THE SONG. LIKE FUCKING CRAZY PEOPLE. AUGH.

[friendshapedplant]

🔫🔫get go go gadget autisgmed again heehoo B] thoughts and interpretations on the Forgotten Land timeline? 👀

I don't got much but there ain't all too much to go with and I don't fw specififc times so don't expect no numbers jus sequences

Obviously the events we have established are Elfilis invades New World, is captured, tested on, Elfilin escapes, everyone leaves, Forgotten Lands Events. Can't quite remember if it's established they figure out the Warp Tech before or after Filin escapes or not and dont feel like checkin!

I'd say it took the people of the New World a few days to a week to subdue Elfilis and put it in a tube by Discovera. Invasive testing didn't start immediately as they didn't want to risk it escaping so soon after it's capture, they wanna rebuild shit first, but things like vitals and surface level samples were taken from Filis.

Give it a year or so and they in the Real research bizz! I feel they did more than just Warp Tech, likely not where they started, but they get there eventually, working with what they know bout this guy and buildin upon it. Willing to bet Filis was not a compliant test subject though and if not tranquilized shit often happened, but sometimes it needed to be conscious for things so! Risk n Reward.

Elfilin is born 30 years after Elfilis is captured (only actual timespan we have and I just learned is a ref to Kirby turnin 30 that year) during the first attempt to execute warp travel. I think something about either the shit they were puttin Filis thru or the sterile environment or an attempt at malicious compliance/escape caused the split. Elfilin is spawned not far outside the facility, first thing he sees is a bunch of people tryna grab at him which is scary! Thus he runs off to never be seen again, and Filis regresses into Fecto Forgo.

Some years after this event, the warp tech is perfected, and Lab Discovera finds the "Land of Dreams." What the hell that is I'm not sure but maybe its Everhood (joke). Research teams are dispatched to determine hospitality, then settlers are sent to establish colonies, and the population moves there in waves over afew years until no one's left but the animals, Fecto, and Elfilin.

About half a centruy later is where Forgotten Land picks up, enough time for the buildings to be overgrown but not entirely destroyed by mother nature. The Waddle Dees and a buncha Pop Star junk arrive and Filin aint too far! He never seen these guys before but knows in his heart they need his help.

The New World experiences time slower than Pop Star does, so over the course of a month or so, they set up a little town and make themselves comfortable with their circumstances, they're just Dees after all they can't do much, esp with no King around. There are many that also choose to explore the New World, but are unfortunately slowly captured.

Then of course their little town is located by the Beast Pack and the remaining Dees are capturing, Kirby finally making thru the portal and locating the village. And then the game starts from there yknow!

I think the entire game of Forgotten Land (about 10 hours) takes more like 10 minutes back on Pop Star. Everyone still over there just chilling until BOOM another portal opens above the planet and They get to witness Truck Kirby Live.

Also regarding Meta Knights presence, the English figure says he arrived before Kirby, while the Japanese says he arrived after, and yknow we prefer our primary sources here, the localizations are dodgy sometimes. (Susie I'm so sorry what they did to u girlie....) Bro came in a couple weeks late, set off on his own for a bit, but after findin nothin he left that to Kirb and decided to protect the Dees from attack. And beat up Gorimando one million times. For the Dees' safety.

Everything said here is Subject to Change in the future I've only been thinkin bout this stuff for like a week so yeyeye but thats it rn

[marisoft-paint-adventures]

Pgs. 214-247

it’s her.

Rope Lalope.

icon for weird goths who for some reason decide to live in the Midwest, those who can somehow still enjoy Lovecraft while knowing the truth of his fucking cat, and

I don’t think WLW ships have ever been the same since the advent of The Rosemary from The Homestuck,

or if I want to sound like a fuckin goofy ass oldhead, femslash.

the thing is that I cannot identify any actual concrete change in general fandom and shipping post-HS, I just feel it. I can feel that something within the universe’s structure changed the moment grimdark gorl and sparkly gay vampire got together.

but I’m talking about a character that hasn’t even shown up yet.

also front facing Rose is fucking haunting stop please.

[insert dabbing joke here.]

the fucking haunting violin refrain flash is so good I love how her movements sync up with the song.

not gonna gush about Aggrieve the same way as Showtime because come on it’s fucking Showtime, but Aggrieve is still very much up there.

Since your good for nothing friend is obviously not going to bail you out in time, you issue words of parting fondness to dear, sweet Liv. Oh, if only Affleck could have been the one to make the final sacrifice instead of her stubborn, blue collar, salt-of-the-earth father. Then she would fall into your arms for consolation, and YOU would be the one to make the deceased Bruce Willis proud.

the crush on Liv Tyler is not explored enough in fandom, I need to know how much John imprints her on his other romance options. how much of a Liv Tyler is Vriska, these are the fucking questions people.

Your panoramic window offers a view of your yard below, and the mausoleum housing your dead cat, JASPERS, who died when you were young. Your MOM had the structure erected with a spirit of scornful IRONY in response to your youthfully innocent request to hold a funeral for the animal. At least, that is how you have come to interpret the gesture in retrospect.

compared to John’s struggle with the clownkind, Rose has a much more grounded strife with her parental figure.

I say that but Rose takes this shit to an 11.

regardless, a parent that constantly performs malicious compliance with a hint of irony isn’t unbelievable, neither is someone fooling themselves into thinking their guardian is operating as such due to a general disconnect and the feeling of not having enough attention.

with all of this established,

it’s still really fucking funny,

because Rose will stare down Mom with sheer contempt thinking “SHE’S FUCKING WITH YOU! SHE’S TRYING TO GET TO YOU! DO NOT GIVE IN TO HER GAMES!” as she stands around vacuuming jackshit, probably having no thoughts in her fucking head except for “I love household chores. :))))))”

WIZARDS.RAR.

genuinely the funniest story surrounding Homestuck, Andrew Hussie risked their entire PC for a bunch of fucking stupid wizard pngs.

the Egberts do high action cake forcefeeding, the Lalondes do drunken covert operations, the Striders DO MAD NINJA TRICKS.

GIRL IS DRENCHED.

early HS art is so fucking pretty. everyone’s always on about the kids looking like bobbleheads and that’s good but the environments are so fucking good as well.

iconic panel, banger panel. look at how her knees do the swirly thing.

CRINGE MAC USER.

you’re making the John nervous!!! Egberts only do this under high stress!!! help him!!!

TT: And the content of the card appears to be variable from session to session. TT: In one instance it was described as an "eggy loking thign" [sic].

presenting without comment.

“John: Take bite of apple.” is a really good ending flash in which John takes a bite out of an apple 

and then gets fucking nuked. 

the act then ends there.

a marvel that the only reason John lived was because he did what looked like the goofiest option ever. did the apple even taste good? what the fuck is cruxite made of???? I guess it’s edible??? might be candy, is it candy??? do they come in different flavors???

after way too long, Act 1 is finally fucking done, yet the more I read it, the shorter it feels. I can’t tell if it’s because I don’t need to absorb the tutorial stuff due to being familiar with the comic already, or because I’m anticipating when shit really goes crazy later on. maybe a bit of both. it certainly preps me for the art style, the flowery language, the weird humor, and so on.

I can say that Act 1 is

fine.

it is of good quality.

nothing groundbreaking and not the best,

but enjoyable nonetheless.

I get that it’s a bit slow and nothing really happens, but I’m able to entertain myself with the page to page shenanigans and good character interactions.

honestly I don’t understand how people skipped this act at all, how the fuck do you skip the start of the story??? don’t you want to like

understand

what is happening

and who these people are???

especially the later part, so much Homestuck skipping was for the sake of immediately getting to the character interactions, but

there are character interactions here,

and

you learn who the characters even are.

like what the fuck, the introduction to the characters and their dynamics should be key to being invested in them, but I guess not because some people were able to just jump in the middle and grow attached while not knowing what the fuck is going on.

in conclusion: people who skipped Act 1 are cringe, and have doomed themselves. Act 1 good.

[wardenannie]

Joel choking Tess with his cock to shut her up

NS*W ofc :)

"This was your fault, Joel." Tess insists. Her irritation is evident in her tone, written across her angular face.

Joel huffs. She's right, of course. She's always right. He misjudged the mark, mistook malicious compliance for actual passivity. The guy pulled a gun, and then the guy he had hidden up above pulled a gun. And suddenly they were out gunned, out manned.

They were forced to give up their product and high-tail it out of there.

So; Tess is right.

But he's not about to admit that.

Joel slams the door to their apartment behind him, crosses his arms over his chest. He puffs, turning his nose up at her where she glares.

"Shit happens sometimes," Joel argues. "Occupational hazard."

"'Occupational hazard'" Tess mocks his tone. "My ass, Joel. You misjudged the situation. You're the muscle and you fucked up."

Joel throws his hands up, "Get off my ass about it, Tess."

"We lost a half kilo of product!"

He rolls his eyes and starts walking towards their bedroom. Done with the argument. He wants to get some fucking sleep after the day they've had.

Naturally, she follows him. Rage stoked like a flame by his apparent indifference.

"Joel!"

He twists, turning on her like a caged animal, "What?! What do you want me to say, Tess?!"

"Oh, I dunno, how about 'I fucked up, yeehaw' or whatever your Texas ass might-

"That's it!" He takes two quick, long strides towards her, striking out with a predatory sort of mien about him. He grabs her by her shoulders, brings her down to her knees with an easy press of his wide palms.

Stunned by his sudden movement and his insubordination her knees give too easily, and suddenly she is on the floor in front of him.

He's already got his fly down, palm his half hard cock through the front of his boxers. Arguing with Tess turns him on without fail.

"What the fuck are you-

He seizes her by her jaw, silencing her, turning her head up so her gaze meets his. Hers is wild, firey, begging to be broken. His is dark, hungry, determined.

"I'm shuttin' you up," he gives a smarmy grin.

Tess puffs her cheeks, "If you think I'm gonna suck you off after your performance today you've got another thing coming, jackass."

She makes to stand, but he holds her down with one hand, frees his erection with the other.

"Joel," she growls his name in warning, and he promptly smacks her in the cheek with the heft of his dick. Leaving the smallest shine of precum against her skin.

"Just shut the fuck up," he rumbles, and he presses the fat head of his dick to her lips.

She pauses for a moment as Joel strokes himself against her lips. Her eyes train on his cock, sparking with an involuntary carnal hunger at the sight of him. At the feel of him against her sensitive skin.

Slowly, she parts her lips, letting her little pink tongue flick out and glide against his tip.

Joel groans, "that's it."

Carefully, reluctantly, she takes the head between her lips, suckling against it as she raises a hand to stroke the hot skin of the shaft. With her other hand she cups his heavy balls, rolling them against her palm.

Joel growls, low and pleased. Her cards his fingers through her hair, pulls it back from her face, watches mesmerized as she hollows her cheeks and begins to bob her head, cautiously piling in the inches against her curling tongue.

"Jesus fuck," he tugs her hair, pushes her further down on his dick until she gags. Throat tight and hot on him. He grinds against her face for the barest moment before pulling back and allowing her a breath. She gasps wetly for air, spit dribbling over her chin, "This is what this mouth was fuckin' meant for. Not naggin' my ass."

Tess plants a hand on his strong thigh, using it to steady herself. Her nails bite him through his jeans.

"Fuck you, Joel," she hisses, even as she strokes him and guides him back between her lips.

"Mmmmm," he hums, rolling his neck. He's about to come, but he isn't about to warn Tess. She'll pull him out of her prefect mouth, make him spill on her face. He wants her to swallow it all down.

He grabs her face, thumbs circling her cheeks with surprising gentleness as he forces her down onto his cock again. He thrusts once, twice, thrice, and then he spills with a long, low groan.

Tess makes a small sound of surprise, eyes widening before she gives herself over to his pleasure. She leans into him, sucks him through the waves of pleasure, and swallows each rope of hot cum as it strikes her tongue and lashes the back of her throat.

Joel laughs lazy and pleasurable.

Tess pulls off of him, cheeks pink with exertion.

"Bastard," she mutters.

"Got ya to shut up, didn't I?"

She rolls her eyes and clambers back to her feet. She's already working at her own belt buckle, eyeing the bed with anticipation.

"Now let me show you how to properly use your insubordinate mouth."

Joel grins and licks his lips.

[transingthoseformers]

The Autobots in this one lack the having flexable and highly adaptable leadership. If Prowl mirrors his IWD counterpart he will stop at nothing to win. Do what he seesnessary and devil take the hindmost. But he doesn't consider his blindspots. Ultra Magnus is extremely lawful but he is very much lawful good. UM would do well early on but as the facade crumbles he's gonna struggle. And he might be the first with shadow play or slave coding. At that point UM is going to be subtlety careless and start implementing malicious compliance. Maybe his Malicious compliance is how the Wrecker managed to get out. Starting a methodical grid search in the wrong spot to give them time to escape. Deliberately emphasizing and deemphazizing reports to poison the Tac-net's data.

Also once the Deceptacons learn about the slave coding they're going to be less focused on killing and more on capture and debuging. OP because it's right, Megatron because New Recruits.

I think things will be interesting with Forged mech and the council's access to them. Because their intermediaries with the Allspark are not on their side. And ya know ya boi Starscream, she's real good at assassination. The ones who sided with the status quo don't have a long life expectancy.

Megatron is gona be so touched when OP did a Violence™️ for him and their stillborn though. It won't fix everything but they're on the path to a new OK. Enough so he's not lashing out through the bond anymore

Yep yep they do

Now, I don't know much about aligned Prowl other than the fact that he's not in tfp, but I can very well see his personality becoming more and more like IDW Prowl's more notorious characterization the more he works with the council's autobots as his moral boundaries are pushed again and again until he learns to just. Throw morals to the wind because they're going to get stomped down regardless. After all, IDW Prowl didn't start out as methodically ruthless as he soon became infamous for.

Exactlyy I do feel like rolling with tfp Mags he's certainly caught up in the rank of it all but he's going to have so many opinions about all of this, honestly I feel like he's a good target for slavecoding (which I can totally see being connected to mnemosurgery in a different way than shadowplay??) considering his role and how you're suggesting malicious compliance.

And from what you're suggesting yesssss on it being the way out

Cool that this makes them focus more on capture and not kill, I just got the vague idea that this would play as an interesting game dynamic

I get the vibe that the council's autobots will utilize a lot of "short term" members with short life expectancies, being fed on a strict information diet with our dear friend propaganda in there, and typically aren't all that loyal? If that makes any sense?

Starscream will play a very interesting role because she is really good at not only assassination but the entire political game and strategy; aligned Starscream was a full ass high ranking Vosian general both before and during a lot of the canon war, after all.

Optimus and Megatron are going to have such a time healing from their loss and navigating being Prime and Protector, "a new OK" is a good way of describing it

[tokiro07]

Cipher Academy ch.52 thoughts

[Toss a Coin to Your Cipher Soldier]

(Contents: thematic analyses - fairness/friendship, predictions)

"If you let yourself become bound to strange rules, you're basically enslaving yourself." What is this, Undead Unluck?

This was a good showing for Yosaimura, who continues to be easily in my top 5 for this series. I've always been a huge fan of Nisio Isin's mental gymnastics, and this series' running theme of malicious compliance is a particularly fun display of it. Much like Iroha used Anonymity's methods against her by basically saying "well if she got to once, then so do I," Yosaimura literally turns Hakanage's logic on its head by saying "if you're going to say that cheating is fair, then I'm going to play so fair"

Anonymity points out that this is likely only something that Yosaimura even thought to do because she saw Iroha do that during the CLP election, which also reinforces the running theme of growth through interpersonal exposure. Iroha learned how to twist technicalities in his favor from Anonymity, and Yosaimura learned how to do that from Iroha. Everyone's learning something from each other, and apparently that's a quality that only Class A has been able to cultivate

We haven't really learned much about the other classes, but I definitely would believe that everyone else is a lot more...either extremely collectivist to the point of everyone losing their sense of identity (Class E who follow Kubinashi blindly and Class F who are required to hide their faces) or overly individualistic to the point that they can't form connections to each other (Class B's wild sense of expression and Class C's psychic children who have never been depicted interacting). I guess that comes with the territory for the School of Subterfuge, doesn't it?

I'm also always a sucker for character interactions that hinge on trust. Someone trusting their friend to understand a crazy plan, to not hurt them in a wild stunt, or trusting their enemy to behave in a certain way because that's what they've always hated/respected about them; being close enough to someone to rely on them, even if what you're relying on is their unreliability, is so romantic. If you didn't think that Yosaimura and Anonymity were a great ship before, Yosaimura telling her that she trusts her to do something dangerous has to at least help change your mind

For as much of a rapport as they've developed though, it really seems like there's going to be a point where everything falls apart. The fact that everyone's approaching a convergence and we've now completely eliminated Classes D and F suggests that neither of them are going to be the major enemy once we actually reach the bottom of the dungeon, so unless Kubinashi or Yonakiuguisu are bigger threats than they appear, the final conflict is almost assuredly going to be between Class A members. If I had to guess, it's going to come down to the CLP candidates again, but this time it'll be colored by how well everyone has gotten to know each other versus their actions being based on their initial, surface-level impressions of each other

Themes of friendship aside, I feel like the thing that Nisio Isin wants me to take away from this chapter is that cryptocurrency is bad. I don't really get how crypto works (or the economy for that matter), but even I can understand that if a new currency is introduced that is inherently "worth" more than the entire world economy, that's going to cause some issues. Even if we assume that it's worth the exact same amount, doubling the world's money in an instant would theoretically tank the value of all of the world's money, assuming that anyone actually recognizes the value of that currency. I guess the question for me is why anyone would, but again, I don't know how crypto works

If nothing else, it also does raise a good question of how Iroha's plan can actually work - if the value of Morgue is based on the presence of wars, how would he be able to use it to stop wars? If you give someone war-money to stop wars, then the money you paid them is inherently worth less upon receipt because there's less war, right? The best I could see is giving one nation a ton of Morgue and telling everyone else "you know how you can tank that nation's economy? End your wars, their money will become worthless." Honestly, with Nisio at the helm, I won't be too shocked if that's even remotely close

Now that everyone is getting pretty close, I do hope that things will become a bit less episodic soon. Seeing so many different characters in so many different locations is fun, but it's starting to feel kind of..disconnected, I'd say. It's like nothing anyone is doing is having any impact on anyone else, so seeing everyone reunite should help it feel like these stories have consequences outside of floor they occur on

Beyond that, what I'm really looking forward to is seeing how people outside of the dungeon are fairing. Hakanage got knocked out a little too easily; much like Zakuroguchi who I predict is secretly pulling strings from the sidelines, I'm willing to bet that Hakanage is going to do something shady now that no eyes are on her

Until next time