#i have not touched discord in at least a year

[microwave-core]

Yo, that Leon post was LEGENDARY, dude!!! If I kindly asked you to make the NSFW version of that, would you? 🥺🥺🥺

I can try, however I SUCK at writing smut. Dog-shit at it. We're talking my immortal levels of writing. I'm also very boring and don't have single dominant bone in my body. That being said, editing and refining goes a long way, so I'll try my best.

Starting off, he's a bit inexperienced, which I mentioned previously. He hasn't been in many relationships, much less been intimate, and he doesn't fuck without feelings. Prefers to take things slow and can get overwhelmed easily at first. That being said, he's a quick learner.

In general, I'd say Leon is a soft dom. He's caring and doting, if not a little shaky at first, but he learns quickly. He's kind of an unstoppable force in his regular everyday life, so being dominant comes naturally to him. Could totally be on the submissive side, though, especially if he's tired.

He's normally gentle, but he can also be rough. His touches aren't always feather light and experimental. If asked, or if he's just stressed out and/or pent up, he can be more aggressive. Normally, he lets off steam during a workout, but, hey, if it works it works.

Very attentive lover. He likes to take his time learning the ins and outs of what his partner does and doesn't like. From their big kinks down to which spots make them sigh in content when kissed. Willing to experiment, but has certain lines that he won't cross.

Big on praise. He wants to know he's doing a good job, that he's a good boy, and loves to return the favor. On the other hand, he hates being degraded. He's a bit insecure, honestly, so being insulted just kind of hurts. Kills his mood. If asked, he can try to degrade his partner, but he's not very good at it. He doesn't want to be mean to someone he loves so much, even if they're literally asking for it.

Speaking of things he isn't a fan of: pain. Leon has no real interest in being hurt, nor does he want to hurt anyone else. Boy is strong, so he's sure to be careful, even when he's being rough. At most, he could potentially be convinced to do some light choking, but even that might be a bit too much for him. He can leave marks, sure, but that doesn't mean he needs to inflict actual pain, right? Also, hates having his hair pulled, his scalp is very sensitive.

Okay, last "things I think Leon wouldn't be into", bare with me. He's not into anything remotely public. The rush he feels in public is not that of excitement, but that of pure dread and panic. He has a reputation, if anyone found out, he would die from sheer embarrassment, mainly because his family would find out. He'd never be able to look his mum in the eyes again out of pure shame.

He's much more lenient with nudes, even if leaks can happen. It would still give him a heart attack if anyone found out, but it's far more socially acceptable to be found exchanging steamy pics with your lover than fucking in public. Tends to lean more on the side of thirst trap then full on nudity. Wouldn't make a sex tape.

Doesn't usually jack off. Doesn't usually feel the need to. He has other outlets for stress relief that get the job done better. That being said, he is considerably needier when he's in a proper relationship, but, even then, it's still not often. He'd rather wait to get off with his partner then do it alone, at that point.

We're far enough in the post where I can just be honest. The first thing that I thought of when I read your ask, anon, is that Leon eats an insane amount of pussy. And he'd also suck an insane amount of dick. He's Mr. Bi King, after all. He just really likes giving head and is incredible at it to boot. Receiving isn't his favorite thing, though. It's not that he doesn't like it, of course he likes it, it just makes him feel a bit awkward.

Slight oral fixation.

The other thing that came to mind is that he has a breeding kink. I completely forgot to put it on the main post, but Leon really wants a big family one day. He loves kids, he's great with them, and is all around family oriented. And so, the thought of starting a family gets him off. Like, a lot. It's a little embarrassing for him to admit that, though. It doesn't even matter if he can get his partner pregnant or not, honestly. At the end of the day, it's about the sentiment.

Also, slight pregnancy kink. It just goes hand in hand with the above.

Aftercare king. At the end of the day, Leon is a very sweet and caring person, so it only makes sense to clean his lover up in the afterglow. He's all about gentle touches and massages for bruised marks and tender skin. Whether he runs a bath or settles for a wash cloth is entirely dependent on how tired he is. Cuddling and pillow talk is an absolute must.

In terms of stamina, he's pretty decent, and can usually push two or three rounds if he paces himself properly. He likes to edge himself, though, so he tends to last for awhile.

His dick is thick and so are his fingers. Do with this information as you will.

[noxtivagus]

OCTOPATH TRAVELER 2 AAAAA i haven't played the demo nor have i. idk watched most of the trailers 😭😭 but i just watched one short clip on twt n. oh my god

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 17] Father and Son

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru tries to make up for the past four years of Ren’s life in a matter of weeks. His focus drastically changes, from his work to his son. He ignores the matter of so many people knowing before him, he avoids his mother and his so-called friends. His main and only priority is his son.

You both wish you could say that your relationship has gotten better, but you don’t really speak to each other unless it’s about the son you share. You’re hopeless that it’ll progress past what you have. Neither of you have the courage to bring up the situation, either way, your attention should be on Ren. 

Ren is finally meeting the man that he’s been dreaming of, and he’s getting to know his father after four years. You’re mostly excited for your son, while also regretting hiding it when you had the chance to tell him. Your relationship is the last thing on your mind– It’s certainly the last thing in Satoru’s mind.

He visits daily, bearing many gifts for his son. Satoru has become a regular at the toy store, buying something each day for his son, something that he thinks Ren would like. He hopes that material stuff will make up for the time wasted. Sometimes he brings some candy, but he doesn’t do it often. Satoru is still his father, he can’t just spoil him rotten, he also has to care for Ren’s wellbeing. He’s slowly growing accustomed to becoming a parent.

“What’s this, Ren?” Satoru holds up a cute white cat plush, one that Satoru always finds on the bed. He wonders if that’s the toy his son has had ever since he was a baby, he guesses it is since Satoru feels like he’s seen it in the background of a picture before.

“It’s whiskers.” Ren answers, taking the plush from his father and putting it back on the bed. That’s before he turns to other matters. Ren doesn’t mind sharing his toys (because you’ve been the one raising him), but whiskers is someone that Ren doesn’t like anyone touching. Anyone and anything can get the toy dirty, and when that happens, you refuse to let the toy on the bed, at least not before you wash it and get it clean again.

Satoru doesn’t bother to ask if that’s the plush that he sleeps with, because that’s most certainly a yes. Ren wants to talk about other important matters though so Satoru gives his undivided attention to his son. Ren then asks, “Are you sleeping over?”

“Uhm… No.” Satoru answers. You most certainly wouldn’t want that. Plus, Satoru has a wife at home who has her suspicions that something is going on. He doubts that she’ll care too much, but he wants to keep Ren protected from the world. If Sayo finds out, so does her family, and if her family knows, the whole world will know. “But I’ll stay until you fall asleep, Ren.”

“I want you to stay.” Ren sticks out his bottom lip, obviously disappointed that his father isn’t staying for the night. You let him on your bed all the time and you sleep together, why can’t he do the same thing with his father? Satoru can’t help but feel bad, so he thinks of how to respond to cheer him up.

You commented how you had plans of going on a small trip with Ren before summer ended, but summer evidently has come to an end. It’s colder now and the leaves are changing color. Satoru finally decides, “We can go on a trip soon, and we’ll be together all day every day.”

“Really?” The little boy’s eyes light up, making the biggest smile come to Satoru’s lips. Satoru now wonders how he was ever happy without him– Well, with you… But that memory slowly fades away since your relationship is now filled with awkwardness. Satoru nods his head in response. He can lie and make it a business trip, it’s not an issue for him really.

“We’ll have to talk to your mommy first, honey. Then we can plan it all.” Satoru answers, and Ren turns around to go look for you. Satoru feels awkward sitting alone on a bed that’s far too low and small for him. He stands up and follows Ren. They both look for you around the apartment until they land in your bedroom. The bathroom door is closed, and Ren immediately knows what to do.

Ren opens the door to the bathroom, and you immediately make eye contact with Satoru. Your face grows hot of embarrassment, and obviously Ren doesn’t see an issue with it. Ren’s issue is when he actually steps into the bathroom, and he just has to comment, “It stinks.”

“Yeah, I wonder why. Get out, Ren, and close the door!” You raise your voice, your embarrassment getting the best of you. Ren closes the door, leaving you to it, and Satoru chuckles. He ruffles Ren’s hair as both walk out of your bedroom.

“You gotta learn how to knock, baby. Give your mommy some privacy.” Satoru says, but it goes one ear out the other. Ren isn’t going to knock, you’re his mommy. If you want your privacy you better lock the door. They take a seat in the living room, where Ren grabs the remote to put on a movie. He knows how to get the movie he wants, even when he’s just learning how to read and spell.

“Where do you want to go?” Satoru asks, wondering where his son wants to go. Ren drops the remote on the couch, putting his tiny index finger on his chin, humming and tilting his head to the side as he thinks of the answer. 

“The beach.” Ren answers, but it’s cold. They can go out of the country though, go somewhere warm. He needs to talk to you first, of course. When you finally walk out of your bedroom (after mentally cursing your son for not having any manners when others are around), you go to the living room to see what they needed.

“What did you need, Ren?” You ask, and he looks excitedly at you. Satoru is the one that speaks up for him though,

“We want to go on a trip, can we?” You almost laugh since Satoru sounds like a hopeful child.

“Where are you two going?” You respond. You can’t really say no because Satoru is supposed to have equal authority as Ren’s father.

“Ren wants to go to the beach.” Satoru answers, Ren nodding in agreement. You cross your arms, your brows furrowing.

“It’s too cold to go to the beach, do you not have any other place in mind?” You point out, making Ren pout. The pout doesn’t last long though since Satoru says,

“We can go to another country. Somewhere warm with better beaches.” You’re certainly not convinced since you doubt you’re part of the plan. You’re not letting your baby boy in another country without you– Well, technically he’d be with his father, but you’re still not convinced. Until Satoru says, “Of course, you’re included! I doubt Ren would go anywhere without you.”

“I wouldn’t.” Ren affirms, and you laugh. 

“If you plan everything, then sure. We can go on a trip. You need to give me time off though– Paid time.” You say, and Satoru nods in response. He does pretty much everything you ask of him, and you certainly can’t complain about it. Ren focuses on putting on one of his favorite movies, and you begin to walk to the kitchen, asking, “Are you staying for dinner, Satoru?”

“Yeah.” Satoru answers. He’d definitely rather eat here with his son and you than dine alone at home. He helps Ren put the movie on, and they both begin to watch the movie. He’s watched this movie around five times the past week, and to be honest, Satoru is sick of it. But he’ll watch it because Ren loves it. 

He’s grateful when you call his name, and he has to tell Ren that you need him, so he can’t stay to watch the movie. Satoru walks to the kitchen, and he finds you trying to reach something that’s far too high for you. Satoru’s eyes land on the white bowl and he reaches for it before handing it to you. You mutter a thank you, and you expect him to go back to Ren, but he doesn’t. You then tell him, “That’s all I need from you, you can go.”

“Do you need help with anything else? You know I love Ren but… I’m sick of that movie.” Satoru answers, earning a chuckle from you. You think about what he can do for a moment, and he patiently waits for you to answer.

“You can make the salad, and then set the table.” You respond, and you think you’ll regret it for a moment. Satoru has had everything done for him, he probably doesn’t know how to cut a cucumber; but then you remember that he lived alone for some time, he had to cook for himself for a while. Satoru immediately gets to work, opening the fridge to get all the vegetables that he needs. He looks around the cabinets and drawers for the cutting board and knife, and he quietly begins to cut the vegetables.

“Have you talked to Shoko?” Satoru asks, washing the lettuce throughout. Pretty much everything is wrong between the two of you, but you can’t just stand in awkward silence every single day. You have to talk to each other, after all, you doubt you’ll stop seeing each other.

“I haven’t. I’m not going to for a while.” You reply. In Satoru’s eyes, she did nothing wrong. He’s glad that Shoko told him, otherwise, he probably wouldn’t be with Ren. But in a sense, he understands why you don’t want to talk to her. “Tell her to stop calling my phone because I’m not going to answer. I’ll call her when I’m ready.”

“I’m not really talking to her either.” He responds.

“Is it because she has the hots for your wife?” You blurt out, and you bite your tongue the moment the words leave your lips. Satoru’s brows raise, definitely surprised by your words. You can’t be serious, can you? Before he can ask more questions about it, you change the topic, “Speaking of… When are you going to tell Sayo about Ren? She’s your wife, she has to find out eventually.”

“Maybe after our trip… I’m not sure how to tell her.” Satoru shares, and you understand that it’s a tough situation. He has to figure out a way to tell his wife of almost five years that he had a kid that’s almost five– And he never cheated, he just found out about him. This was all before their marriage. It’s definitely hard. Satoru clears his throat, mustering up the courage to ask about Suguru, someone else that he has been ignoring. “So… How are you and Suguru? Are you still seeing each other?”

“We’ve been busy, but we’re still… Talking.” You answer. You won’t lie and say that you don’t feel nauseous every time you talk to him, your heart nearly beating out of your chest for the simple fact that you lied to him. He has to find out that you lied eventually. “Have you talked to him?”

“I’m not talking to him. I’ve been ignoring him. I’ve been ignoring everyone.” Satoru responds. He puts the knife down, watching you as you begin to cook. He bites down his lip, holding back on saying a couple of things that are on his mind. About this situation, about you and Suguru, maybe an apology. Satoru has been a complete mess with so many things going in his mind, but not voicing any of them. He does have to ask one question though, “Is Ren the reason why you quit school?”

“Yeah…” You feel embarrassed to say it. “I couldn’t afford both. It was either my baby or school, and that was an easy choice.”

“Sorry…” He mutters, and it’s barely audible but you hear it. You don’t really pay attention to it, in the end it was your decision. Given the option, you’d do it all over again. 

[ghoulphile]

i want this man to do gross, disrespectful, unspeakable, borderline illegal things to me

⭐ inbox | discord | ao3 ⭐ requests: temporarily closed | tag lists: open last updated | 6/6/24 notes | i'll update this post as i continue to write. fics will be 18+ unless stated otherwise ❤️ requests closed so i can catch up on the ones already submitted - will be opening up again soon!

🍒 sticky fingers the ghoul x reader one-shot | 18+

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.”

🍒 janey's dad cooper howard x reader two-shot, part one | 18+

“We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

🍒 run rabbit run the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

the drabble thing HNNNGH think about coop calling you bunny from the start bc he clocked that you were always a down for it and you not getting it until he after you fuck for the first time

🍒 in the middle of the night the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

Cooper watching you sleep. Its a quiet night. nothing but bugs passing by. Cooper keeps watching, and his mind wanders. cut to him "borrowing" your soft and smooth hand, pulling it from under your makeshift blanket and wrapping it on his dick, jacking himself with your hand bc he's bored/trying to pass the time/stay awake

🍒 wish you'd make me cry the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

"You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c

🍒 dog days pre-war cooper howard x reader fluff, request

I was wondering if you'd write something about maybe prewar/postwar (either one) cooper where his love is a bit sick (not life threateningly so ect) and he just takes good care of them

🍒 it's always the quiet ones pre-war cooper howard x reader drabble | 18+

We can see that Cooper tends to go for good girls but what if he ran into a seemingly innocent - or at the very least kind - person… but they dirty talk like a sinner in the sack?

🍒 no use cryin' over spilled milk the ghoul x reader one-shot | 18+

based off this ask; trying to survive topside after growing up in a vault is hard enough, but doing it five months pregnant? it's a good thing you find the ghoul when you do.

🍒 i can taste your skin in my teeth the ghoul x reader drabble request, wip | 18+

drabble request thingy: "you're so wet and I haven't even touched you" and/or "aww... you're pathetic" I feel like these go so well together in a very mean(super hot) way >:)

🍒 use me pre-war cooper howard x reader drabble request, wip | 18+

for the drabble request "I want to use you so fucking bad" with pre bomb coop?

🍒 don't threaten me with a good time the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

how do you think our ghoul would handle having a breeding kink?

🍒 in the collision of your kiss pre-war cooper howard x reader wip | 18+

"As I live and breathe, that's Cooper Howard! Why, he must've cost a fortune -- how ever did you get him to agree to attend a children's party?"

🍒 criminal tongues the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

Could I get and aggressive smut with coop like he hasn't had any in 200 something years ! Hes needy and wants it NOW

🍒 finders, keepers the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

Cooper wants people to know the reader is *his*, and she best damn well know it to. If she doesn't, he'll have to show her

🍒 god is a woman pre-war cooper howard x reader request, wip | 18+

If you don't mind of making cooper howard/the ghoul being submissive or treating reader like a goddess of a smut?

🍒 bury all your secrets in my skin the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

I was thinking how it would be to be the first to get him to take all his clothes off since the bombs fell. Being the first to get him to be vulnerable in this way. If you would write this I would be very grateful.

[astercontrol]

If KOSA passes

Or if any other form of censorship (there are many in the works!) ever succeeds at stepping in to impede our ability to communicate online:

We have to make plans.

Now, I dunno who'll even see this post. The few followers I have are TRON fans (who despite the fantasy we live in, tend to have realistically dismal views IRL about Disney and the various corporate uses of software).

And this fandom, on average, is pretty tech-savvy. It's where I've encountered the most people under 20 years old who actually know how to use a desktop or laptop computer.

So, if there's any hope for what I'm thinking about, this is prolly a good place to start with it.

(As with all my posts, I encourage reblogging and containment-breaching.)

(Gifs are clips from TRON 1982, mainly the "deleted love scene," from the DVD extras.)

Anyway.

Current society has moved online communication much too far onto major social media sites for my comfort. Whoever you communicate with over the internet, chances are you do it through a service owned by a big company: Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, Telegram, Facebook, whatever. Even TikTok (shudder).

These sites, despite their many flaws, can provide experiences that are valuable and hard to get otherwise. And once all your friends are on one site, you can't just leave and stay in touch with them all, not unless they all go the same place. It's easy to see why it's hard to abandon any social media platform.

But a backup plan is important. Because, as we've seen over and over, social media sites can't be relied on. They change their policies suddenly, without good reason-- and are inconsistent, even discriminatory, about enforcing those policies.

If they're funded by ads, the advertisers are their main customers, and your posts are the product. Their goal is that the posts most valuable to the advertisers get seen by people the advertisers consider desirable customers.

Helping you communicate-- making your posts get seen by the people you want to communicate with-- is optional to them.

Not to mention that the whole business model of an ad-funded website is generally unsustainable. Many of these sites are operating at a loss, relying on shareholders in a fragile bubble, doomed to fail soon just from lack of real profit.

And the more restrictions --like KOSA-- that the law puts on freedom of online speech, the likelier they are to go down or just become unusable. Every rule a site is required to follow is another strain on its resources, and most of them are already failing badly at even enforcing their own self-imposed rules.

If we want any control over our continued ability to stay in touch with our online friends-- we need to have a backup plan. Maybe it'll be simple at first, a bare-bones system we cobble together-- but it's gotta be something that will work. For a while at least.

There are lots of really good posts about ways to build your own website, using a service like Neocities. I VERY MUCH recommend learning this skill-- learning to make websites of the very simplest, most stable, glitch-resistant type, made of html pages-- which you can upload to a host while you store backups on your home computer. If you value the writing and art that you put online, this is probably the safest you can keep it.

But that's for making your own creative work public.

As for communicating with others-- for example, receiving and answering other people's comments on your work-- that gets more complex. I personally haven't found it worthwhile to troubleshoot the problems that come with having a system that allows visitors to comment publicly on my website.

But what we do still have-- and likely will for a long time-- is email.

Those of us who came of age before social media's current hold... well, we might take this for granted. Email was the first form of online contact we ever encountered… and thus it can seem to us like the most ordinary, the most boring.

But in the current world, it is a rare and precious thing to find a method of communicating that doesn't require everyone in the chat to be signed on with the same corporation.

Email is, as of now, still perfectly legal-- as much as social media companies have been trying to herd the populace away from it. I'm sure there are other ways to share thoughts online that are not bound by laws. But I am not going to go into that here.

Email service is provided by law-abiding companies, which will comply with subpoenas if law enforcement thinks you are emailing about doing illegal things. So, email is not a surefire way to be safe, if laws become dystopian enough to threaten your freedom to talk about your own life and identity.

But it's safer than posting on a public social media page.

For now.

Email is beautifully decentralized. You can get an email address many different ways-- some reliant on a company like Gmail, others hosted on your own domain. And different people, with all different types of email addresses, hosted in all different ways-- can all communicate together by the same method.

Of course any of these people, individually, can lose their email address for some reason or other, and have to get a new one. But as long as they still know the email addresses of their contacts, they can reconnect and recover from that loss. The structure of a group linked by email is reliant not on a single company-- but on the group itself, the friends you can actually count on.

This is why I am trying to promote the idea of forming email lists, as a backup plan to give people a way to stay in touch as mainstream social media sites prove to be unsustainable.

I'm envisioning a simple system of sending emails to several addresses at once, and making each reply visible to everyone in the chat by using "reply all" (or, if desired, editing the To field to reply to only some).

If enough people get used to using email in this way, it could fill most of the needs met by any other group chat or forum …without depending on a centralized social media company that's taking dystopian measures to try and make the business profitable.

So here are some thoughts about how I personally imagine it could work.

(Feel free to comment and bring up any thoughts I haven't addressed, or suggestions to customize how specific groups could set it up. This is meant as more of a starting point for brainstorming than a catch-all solution.)

As I see it, here are the basics of what you and your friends would each need to start out:

An email address. Any kind, hosted anywhere. You should use a dedicated email account just for this group, one that you do NOT use for other communication. Being in this group will result in things you don't want happening to your main email address-- like getting a TON of email, one for every post and reply. Or someone could get your email address that you really don't want any contact with. Use a burner email account (one that you can easily replace) and change it if needed.

The knowledge of how to "REPLY ALL" in your email. This will be necessary in order to add a comment that everyone in the group can see.

The knowledge of how to EDIT THE "TO" FIELD in your email, and remove addresses from the list of all recipients. This will be necessary if you want to CHANGE WHICH PEOPLE in the group can see your comment.

The knowledge of how to FILTER WORDS in your email. This will be necessary if a topic comes up that you don't want to see any mentions of.

The knowledge of how to BLOCK PEOPLE in your email. This will be very important. If someone joins this email group who you do not want to interact with, it will be up to you to BLOCK them so that you do NOT see their messages. (If they are bad enough to evade the block with multiple burner accounts, that's what you have a burner account for. Change it, and share the new one only with those you trust not to give it to them.)

Every person in the group will be effectively a "moderator" of the group, able to remove people from it by cutting their email addresses out of the "To" field. Members will all have equal "moderator" privileges, each able to tailor the group to their own needs.

This means the group may naturally split, over time, into other groups, each one removing some people and adding others. Some will overlap, some won't. This is good! This is, in my opinion, what online interaction SHOULD be like! There should be MANY groups like this!

In this way, we can keep online discussion alive, no matter WHAT happens to any of the social media websites.

If the dystopia got bad enough to shut down email, we could even continue with postal mail and photocopies, like they did in the days of print-zine fanfiction.

If it looks like the dystopia is gonna come for postal mail too, we'll use the connection we have to preserve whatever contacts we can with people who live near us.

Not saying it's GONNA get that bad. But these steps of preparation are good no matter exactly what kind of bad stuff happens.

As long as some organized form of communication still exists, we'll have a place where it's at least a little safer to be your true self…

to plan events and meetups…

and maybe even activities a little too risque to make the final cut of a 1982 Disney movie.

They're trying to censor us. We want a Free System. So we're gonna fight back.

For the Users. Not the corporations.

Peace out, programs. <3

[mrs-dr-reid]

Scary Dog Privilege

(A Wolverine Fic)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Summary: The reader practically begs Logan to be her fake boyfriend at a gala, but ends up getting more than she bargained for

Genre: Fluffy throughout, a teensy bit angsty near the end, and a dash of "oh my god, just KISS ALREADY!!!" sprinkled in pretty much everywhere

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive language, fake boyfriend trope, friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, more than platonic touches, tw food/alcohol, crying, protective!Logan, the image of Logan in a tux (yes, that's a warning), Tony Stark being... himself, a Hugh Jackman-sized Wolverine and an average/small reader (size difference, yaaaaay)

A/N: Big thanks to @snixkers for being my designated Wolvie Beta Reader, as well as a handful of buddies in my writers discord for helping me turn the head words into page words (you know who you are).

Word Count: 4419

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This is going to be a disaster, Y/N thought as she stared hopelessly at the event notification on her phone: Superhero Gala tonight!!!

It was her least favorite day of the year, even though on paper it was a good thing. All of the Avengers and all the X-Men getting together and hosting a gala fundraiser to raise money for a different cause every year, as well as “celebrate the spirit of collaboration among heroes” or whatever preachy bullshit Charles is always on about.

She just knew that she’d inevitably be stuck getting hit on by drunken aristocratic strangers in a dress she didn’t want to be wearing, just like every other year. She’d much rather be honing her abilities or reading a book, but attendance was mandatory for every adult living at the mansion, much to her chagrin.

Y/N paced the length of her bedroom, worrying about her certain doom, when she got an idea. It wasn’t a very good idea, but it was better than no idea at all. She stuffed her phone in her back pocket, then ventured down to the kitchen where she was hoping she’d find who she was looking for, and she was right.

Logan was sitting at the island munching on a piece of toast and nursing a flask of what she assumed was whiskey, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She said, “Howlett, I need to talk to you in private.”

Logan looked up from his breakfast and said, “Good morning to you too, L/N,” mostly unbothered by her request.

Y/N rolled her eyes and said, “NOW, please.”

He raised a hand in surrender and said, “Alright, Bossy Pants,” before following her into the other room away from the prying ears of Jean, Scott, and Ororo.

Once they were out of earshot, Y/N said, “Okay, I’m gonna ask you to do something kinda weird, but I promise if you do it, I’ll never ask you for anything else ever again.”

Logan raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Okay?”

She took a deep breath. “I need you to be my scary dog privilege tonight at the gala.”

The request hung in the air between them as Logan tried to process what the hell she just said to him. “You need me to be your what?”

Y/N sighed exasperatedly, then elaborated. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend so the sleazy rich assholes leave me alone!” before steepling her hands and giving him her best puppy dog pout.

Logan wasn’t swayed, and he crossed his arms. “Why me? Couldn’t you ask McCoy?” Y/N glared at him, annoyed that he was being so difficult.

“Yes, I could ask Hank, but Hank is a teddy bear! You’re tall, you’re intimidating, it’s somewhat believable that we’d be together, and you have claws. And if you don’t do this, I promise you that if even one slimeball approaches me, I will use the ‘what not to do’ section of the Geneva Convention as a to-do list! So will you be my fake boyfriend or not?!”

Both of Logan’s eyebrows went up at this, and he said, “As entertainin’ as that would be, Chuck would probably ground you for committin’ war crimes against a civilian,” before starting to walk back to the kitchen.

In a panic, Y/N blabbed, “I’ll smuggle in cigars and booze for you for a month!” which stopped him in his tracks. Gotcha, Wolvie.

He turned back around, let out a groan in the back of his throat at the hopeful smile on Y/N’s face, then said, “Fine. But just this once,” before sticking out a hand to shake. She grinned, then shook his hand, trying her best to not think about how his hand completely engulfed hers or how warm and rough it was.

That evening, Logan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs alongside Scott for Jean and Y/N to come down, both men in sharp black tuxedos.

Scott said, “So, you’re L/N’s date tonight, huh?” with a shit-eating grin on his face, so Logan rolled his eyes, tugging at the collar of her dress clothes slightly. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Literally. If I refused, she was gonna kill the first stranger who told her she was pretty.”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah, sounds about right.” Then he fell silent, so Logan followed his gaze and tried to ignore the weird tug in the pit of his stomach when he saw Y/N trailing behind Jean. She looked like a completely different person than the woman he bantered with every day.

Her hair fell in a halo of perfect waves around her shoulders, her makeup was done to perfection, diamond studs decorated her ears, and her dress… oh, that dress.

While its rhinestone-encrusted fabric covered every inch of her body except her collarbone and her hands, it hugged every curve like it was made especially for her (and it probably was). The slight padding of the shoulders and the emerald green hue made her look almost ethereal, and the matching shoes he could see peeking out from under the hem with every step she took added to the effect, though he wasn’t sure why.

Y/N stopped in front of him. “Well, you clean up nice, Howlett,” and adjusted his tie (which just so happened to match her dress). That snapped him out of his reverie before he cleared his throat. “You too, L/N. Shall we?”

He offered her his arm, and she took it. “Let’s get this over with,” before letting him lead her into the ballroom.

After he had initially agreed to this admittedly crazy scheme, Logan and Y/N had gone over different forms of PDA that they were each comfortable with. Y/N had told Logan that he could do whatever he needed to do to sell it, whereas he was more hesitant to give her carte blanche, only allowing lingering arm and shoulder touches or a kiss on the cheek if the situation desperately called for it.

Logan instantly clocked the bar the second they stepped foot inside, and before he could say anything, Y/N quipped, “I need to be drunk half an hour ago, let’s move,” and started pulling him towards the bar, causing him to let out a snort as he allowed her to drag him along.

He ordered a whiskey on the rocks while she stuck with a vodka soda, and after they were given their drinks, Logan said, “Say what you want about Stark. At least he has the decency to spring for an open bar, and it’s the good shit,” while swirling the liquid in his glass.

Y/N snickered and said, “I’ll drink to that.” She held her glass up for cheers, and Logan clinked his glass against hers, then downed about half of his whiskey in one swig.

Y/N had to blink to rid the image of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed from her mind, then she downed her drink as well. “Well, we better go find Charles and the others.”

He nodded in agreement, then put a hand at the small of her back as they ventured into the center of the room. Y/N spotted Charles amongst a circle of Avengers and X-Men including Captain America, Black Widow, and Iron Man as well as Hank, Scott, Jean, and Rogue. The two of them approached the circle, and Y/N said, “Partying hard or hardly partying?”

Charles looked away from the tall, blond man Y/N recognized from last year as Steve Rogers at the sound of her voice, then said, “Ah! There you two are! Logan, Y/N, I’m sure you remember Captain Rogers, Miss Romanoff, and Mr. Stark from last year’s benefit,” and gestured between them.

Y/N smiled and said, “Of course. It’s great to see you again,” while shaking each of their hands, earning a “Likewise” from Steve, a nod from Natasha, and a smirk from Tony. He was surely about to say something lewd, but Logan stuck his hand out to shake just in time. “Mighty nice of ya to foot the bill on some decent booze, Stark,” his arm snaking protectively around Y/N’s waist.

If Charles and the other X-Men didn’t clock it, which was highly unlikely, they thankfully said nothing about it, but Tony recovered quickly enough that it wasn’t necessary anyway. He shook Logan’s hand and said, “Of course. Only the best for the best, amiright?” before shooting a wink in Y/N’s direction.

Logan bristled slightly, so Y/N took that as an opportunity to place a hand on his chest and say, “Lo, I believe I was promised a dance?” raising her eyebrows pointedly at him.

He said, “Right, yeah, absolutely, Doll Face. Nice seeing you again, but duty calls. Boyfriend duty, that is,” nodded at Steve and Natasha, then shot an almost gloating wink in Tony’s direction before giving Y/N his arm and whisking her off to the dance floor.

As they left, Y/N swore she heard Scott whisper incredulously, “‘Boyfriend’’?!” and Jean smack him in the chest, which made her stomach flip slightly at the thought that only Scott questioned the arrangement.

As they reached the dance floor, Y/N took note of the string quartet a few paces from the floor. “Open bar, and live entertainment? That Stark sure knows how to throw a party.”

Logan rolled his eyes and huffed, “If he took hints as good as he threw parties, then we’d be in business,” before he remembered that he wasn’t actually Y/N’s boyfriend, and there was no reason for him to be that pissed. So why was he?

Y/N said, “He’s the outlier in this situation. I’ve clocked at least eight different guys that have made to come talk to me, but immediately backtracked once they noticed you standing right next to me. I should bribe you to be my scary dog privilege more often!”

He just scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath,” but there was still a hint of a smile on his face as they joined the other couples waiting for the next song.

The musicians took up their instruments and began playing again, so Logan extended a hand to Y/N and said, “May I have this dance?” while raising a teasing eyebrow at her. She smiled, then took it and replied, “You may.”

He grinned before spinning her into his arms, a peal of laughter escaping her as she collided with his solid chest in a very ungraceful manner.

She giggled, “Logan!” He shrugged and said, “Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I?” neither of them acknowledging that she used his first name.

They kept dancing, Logan periodically making comments about the people around them just to hear her melodic laughter, and to any outsider, they looked just like any other couple; young (or seemingly young in Logan’s case) and in love, even though that wasn’t the case.

When the song ended, Y/N let out a breathless sigh and said, “I’m gonna go get a drink. Do you want anything?”

Logan held up a hand and said, “Nah, I’ve got all night to drink Stark outta house and home. Thank you, though.” Y/N nodded with a smile, then went to head for the bar, but Logan stopped her with a hand on her waist.

He said, “Hang on a sec, Doll,” then held her chin in place with his first two fingers and brushed some rogue strands of hair away from her face before murmuring, “There we go. Perfect.”

Y/N fought to keep a blush from staining her cheeks as she thanked him, then she scampered away to the bar after telling him she’d be back soon, hoping to god he didn’t notice the spike in her heart rate.

She reached the bar and ordered another vodka soda, somewhat breathlessly. As she waited, she ended up overanalyzing all that had transpired thus far, and she couldn’t make sense of any of it. Logan’s protectiveness around someone he knew wasn’t a threat? Going out of his way to play the Boyfriend Card in front of their teammates and collaborators? The pet names? The way he’s been looking at her since they stepped foot inside the ballroom?

As she was going through all of this, an unfamiliar man sidled up next to her at the bar and tried to strike up a conversation, much to Y/N’s dismay.

“Hey there, I’m Jeffrey. Did they give you a name to go with that pretty face?” and she just barely contained a gag/cringe combo before telling him her name. He smiled a bit too wide to be genuine, then said, “Can I order you a drink?” so she said, “I already ordered. And I promised my boyfriend I’d come find him as soon as I got it, so…,” and craned her neck to search for the bartender.

Jeffrey scoffed.“Some boyfriend he is, letting a lady like you wander off by herself.” That made Y/N inhale sharply. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and he’s well aware of that,” she said curtly, silently daring him to say one more stupid thing so she could knock him into next month.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, his voice faltered and his eyes trailed up to someone much taller than her. She didn’t have the chance to turn around before the familiar scent of pine, whiskey, and tobacco filled her nostrils and a pair of lips pressed a kiss to her jaw.

Logan husked out right next to her ear, “Hey, Baby. Thought you were gonna come find me once you got your drink. Dinner’s about to start.” One of his hands slid around to rest against her stomach protectively, so she placed a hand on his arm and said, “I was! It just got busy, I guess. We had the home-front advantage earlier,” trying to pretend like she wasn’t silently losing her mind over what he’d just done and praying to whatever deity existed that he couldn’t smell her body’s reaction to what had just occurred.

She turned her head to look at him, and he smiled at her before nodding his head in Jeffrey’s direction and saying, “Who’s this punk?”

She shot a quick glare at the man in question, then looked back up at Logan. “Just someone who is very lucky you showed up when you did,” she said with a smile before going up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

The bartender arrived with her drink not a moment too soon, and as she grabbed it, said, “It was nice to meet you, Jeffrey,” and then let Logan lead her back to their designated table, choosing to ignore how Logan looked over his shoulder and snarled at the man as they walked away.

Dinner thankfully went off without any hitches, but since Y/N and Logan were seated next to each other, the constant whiffs she got of Logan's unique (and intoxicating) musk whenever he so much as shifted in his chair were driving her insane. Not to mention the absentminded circles he was drawing on her leg under the table, which he didn’t need to do since nobody could see.

Just as she thought she’d be able to beeline it to somebody’s office or the bathroom or anywhere else to hide, Jean pulled her aside while asking to talk to her in private, making her think a string of expletives that she was well aware Jean could still hear as she allowed herself to be dragged to an unoccupied corner of the ballroom.

Once they were away from listening ears, Jean said, “Okay, what is going on between you and Logan? Yesterday you were threatening to shove him off the roof, and now you two are all over each other! And don’t even try to lie,” while raising a questioning eyebrow. Y/N let out a petulant whine, but Jean shot her a look that Y/N liked to call “The Mom Glare”, so she let out a loud sigh and explained everything, her voice growing more hysterical with every word:

“Okay, I bribed Logan into being my fake boyfriend for the night to keep the creeps away, and I told him to do whatever he needed to do so people would believe it, but I realized that I like what he’s been doing way too much for us to be just friends, and I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jean!”

Jean put her hands on Y/N’s arms to ground her and said, “Whoa, calm down. What exactly has he done that’s got you so worked up?” Y/N let out a mildly panicked laugh, then said, “For starters, if he was within arms reach of me, his hands were on me. He was being super protective of me in front of Tony even though we all know he could snap the Tin Man like a toothpick if he wanted to. He kissed me on the jaw earlier when some sleazeball was hitting on me by the bar, then snarled at him as we walked away. And to top it off, he was drawing circles on my leg under the table at dinner, and I’m not convinced he realized he was doing it, because I did nothing to stop him. Ugh, this is so complicated!”

Jean made a confused face at this. “Why does it have to be complicated? You two clearly have feelings for each other that are more than platonic. And if I may, he agreed to this crazy scheme of yours, didn’t he? At least some part of him feels the same way about you.” This earned another whine from Y/N.

She started rambling, “I don’t want this to change our relationship! I mean, yeah, I’ve had a crush on him for years because I’m not blind, but we’re just friends! And we’ve always been just friends! We bust each other's chops, we affectionately threaten each other with violence, we smuggle contraband into the school for each other even though Charles absolutely knows we’re doing it, so there’s literally no reason for us to be so secretive about it. I can’t just throw that away because I’m in love with him!”

Unfortunately, she didn’t notice Jean’s face pale or her attempts to get her to stop talking until a familiar deep voice said, “You’re in love with me?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she turned around to see Logan standing there with a confused expression on his face. Her stomach clenched, and she said meekly, “How much of that did you hear?” hoping he wouldn’t say what she thought he was going to say, and bracing herself for the worst.

“Everything after ‘complicated’.” Fuck.

A whimper escaped her throat, and she heard Jean scamper off behind her. She sighed and whispered, “Shit,” squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. Logan made to move towards her, but Y/N recoiled from him and said, “Don’t!”, before side-stepping him and sprinting out of the ballroom as fast as her wildly impractical attire would allow her, ignoring the concerned calls of her name from her fellow X-Men.

Y/N knew Logan would catch up to her eventually, but for the moment, the only thing on her mind was getting as far away from the ballroom and him as possible. She ended up in the hedge maze, and she fell onto a stone bench to catch her breath, but all too soon she heard Logan yelling her name.

She ignored him, then proceeded to bury her face in her hands and cry due to the sheer irony of the situation: She was hiding in a stupid hedge maze from the only man she’s ever wanted because she can’t bring herself to face him.

Logan rounded the corner a few moments later, and the second he saw her on the bench and heard her sniffling, he knelt before her. “Hey, don’t cry, Sweetheart.” He gently pulled her hands away from her face.

Y/N just shook her head and whispered, “I can’t do this, Logan,” through her tears, making Logan’s eyebrows furrow before he said, “Can’t do what, Darlin’?” and went to wipe her cheek with his thumb, but it was too much for her to take.

Y/N flinched away from his touch and sobbed out, “This! The pet names, the tender touches, you looking at me like that! I can’t go back to just friends after everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t! If you’re gonna let me down, please just let me down gently because it’s the only way I can bear losing you!”

A fresh flood of tears blurred her vision enough that she couldn’t see his face, and she tried to get up to run back to her room or anywhere else where she could lock the door and try to pretend like this whole night was just a bad dream, but Logan’s hands shot out to hold her in place. “Y/N, who said anything about letting anybody down or losing me?”

Y/N startled at the sound of her first name coming out of his mouth, and she blinked back her tears to find him looking at her so tenderly she thought she was going to melt into the grass below her. Logan cupped her face in his hand and said,

“From the day that I met you, I knew I needed to find a way to keep you in my life. For a while, that was by being your friend. But only being your friend isn’t enough for me anymore. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my entire life.” His thumb stroked her cheek comfortingly as he spoke.

Y/N giggled through her tears, and she said, “That’s a long ass time, Wolvie.”

He chuckled back and said, “My point exactly, Doll,” squeezing her knee for emphasis. Y/N looked down at the ground and said, “You’re gonna get grass stains on your pants.”

Logan raised an eyebrow challengingly before bracing his hands on the bench on either side of her and purposely grinding his knees into the grass, pulling a shocked laugh from her. “Logan Howlett!”

He chuckled at her admonishing tone, then leaned in to press his forehead against hers and murmured, “It stopped being pretend for me the moment you came downstairs in this dress,” as he ran a hand down her leg to fiddle with the hem of her dress.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and she whispered, “You had me at ‘hey, baby’.” For a moment they just stared at each other, but Logan’s resolve broke when she breathed his name, and he surged forward to capture her lips in a desperate kiss that said everything words couldn’t then.

His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, and she let him in without hesitation as she gripped the back of his jacket and he held her against his chest like she’d disappear if he let go. Y/N could have stayed in his embrace forever, and Logan could have kept her like that indefinitely.

Unfortunately, humans need oxygen to live, so Y/n pulled her lips away to at least attempt to catch her breath, but Logan had other plans.

He trailed his kisses down her jaw to her neck, and his hand started roaming around her back to find the zipper of her dress, but Y/N put a hand to his chest to stop him and said, “You better take me on a real date before you try something like that, Howlett.” He buried his face in her shoulder and groaned disappointedly.

Y/N giggled, then said, “As far as I know, the gala doesn’t end for another few hours,” to which Logan leaned back so he was sitting on his heels.

“I think I like where your head's at, Princess,” a smirk crossing his face before he jumped to his feet, scooped her up bridal style, and started jogging back to the mansion, his heart swelling at her squeal of laughter and how her arms tightened around his neck.

Logan set Y/N down outside of the ballroom, then held out his hand and said, “Ready, Darlin’?”

She smiled and said, “Always, Big Guy,” before lacing her fingers with his and walking into the room, where seemingly every Avenger and X-Man was standing and waiting with bated breath.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up at Logan, who let out a resigned sigh and said, “Ahhhh, fuck it,” before sweeping her into a dip and kissing the life out of her, an eruption of shocked laughter, wolf whistles, and applause coming from the gathering of heroes, making Y/N smile against his lips and cup his face in her hand.

When he pulled his lips away, Logan murmured, “I’m in love with you, too. Didn’t get to say it earlier,” making Y/N snark, “Oh, really? I never would have guessed,” before giggling and reconnecting their lips, Logan chuckling as he held her even closer.

Scott hollered teasingly, “Hey, lovebirds! Mind wrapping it up?! We’ve got places to be!”

Both Logan and Y/N simultaneously flipped him off while they stayed engrossed in each other.

“Yeah, fair enough,” Scott said, making Jean laugh at him. Logan eventually stood Y/N up again, then said, “Hey, Stark, is there any good shit left? I don’t know about you, but I finally got the girl, and I feel like celebrating.” As he spoke, he shot a wink at Y/N solely to make her blush.

Tony said, “Absolutely!” A waiter came over with two glasses of champagne, and even Y/N could tell that it was high-quality stuff just from the smell.

Logan held his glass towards her, then said, “To you and me, Darlin’.” Y/N clinked her glass against his in cheers and said, “You and me, Bubba,” everyone cheering as Logan kissed her temple.

As an avid romance novel reader, she probably should have seen this coming, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care about anything else besides the comforting feeling of Logan’s arm around her waist and the knowledge that he was all hers for as long as she wanted him, which was forever.

———————————————————————

MCU Taglist: @libraryofloveletters

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: This was actually requested on my discord, by my beloved 🌸 anon. I sure had fun writing this, from an ace to another, I hope u enjoy this (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, sexuality talk, coming out (as asexual), gn!reader

Vil watched you pace nervously, his eyes following your every movement. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice he had been speaking to you mere moments ago, his questions and jokes promptly ignored by you.

'What had happened? Had someone upset you? Were you troubled and in need of help?' He thought so many things, his heart beating faster with each negative thought crossing his mind.

Finally, after what seemed like years, you sat down on the edge of the bed, your heart pounding as you stared at your hands. The room was bathed in the soft, fading light of the evening, shadows dancing on the walls as the last rays of the sun slipped through the curtains. Vil could sense the tension in you, the way you seemed to be rehearsing your words, overthinking every syllable - you were like a newbie at acting, trying to conceal your face behind a mask, yet you didn't realize that he could see you behind your mask.

He knew he could ease your worries, he could make everything better with just a few words and snaps of his fingers. You were his most cherished person, and of course, he wanted to take care of you, to see your beauty shine alongside his, to nourish you into a better version of yourself. But first, you needed to open up to him. It pained him to see you so distant, trapped in your own world - fearing.

He could recognize the signs; the way you bit your nails, the shallow breaths, how you looked at him as if you had committed the worst crime possible, which was funny considering that he had done far worser than you ever could. Well, not that you know about all the things he did.

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, your gaze shy and uncertain. His presence was both a comfort and a source of intimidation, though you weren’t sure why. Vil noticed this, and with a subtle shift in his posture, he softened his expression, hoping you would see him as someone to confide in rather than fear.

"Mein Liebling," Vil spoke gently, breaking the silence, nickname making you shudder visibly. He needed to be the first to reach out, to show you that he was there for you, ready to listen and understand. He took your hand in his, his touch gentle as he guided your chin up so you would meet his eyes. "You've been so quiet and distant today. What’s on your mind?"

It was a simple question but it carried the weight of his concern. You bit your lower lip, leaning into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as you searched for the right words.

"There’s something I need to tell you," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Vil’s gaze softened further, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. "Of course, darling. You can tell me anything."

It's now or never, You thought. Now or never!

Your fingers twisted nervously in the hem of your shirt as you took a deep breath. "I’m… asexual. It means I don’t experience sexual attraction, or at least not in the way most people do. I, uh, wanted to tell you this since we're... Interested in each other? In love? I don't know how to call it to be honest."

He couldn’t stand the thought that you might have feared coming to him, that you worried about his judgment. Vil tightened his hold on your hands, his touch warm and reassuring, as he let a soft chuckle leave his beautiful lips.

You close your eyes, afraid to face the expression that adorned your his face. Silence filled the room for a moment, the seconds stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last, your heart beating loudly in your chest. But Vil's relief was almost palpable as he realized that nobody harmed you. You were just afraid - afraid of his reaction, which he hated because he could never judge you or other aces for that matter.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," Vil said, his voice gentle and sincere. "I can see how much this means to you, and how scared you are."

A wave of relief washed over you, though a small knot of anxiety still remained. "I was afraid you might not understand or that it would change things between us."

Vil’s lips curved into a soft smile, though he felt a twinge of hurt that you’d ever doubt him. "My feelings for you aren’t based on physical attraction. What matters to me is your heart, your mind, and the incredible person you are. If anything, I admire you even more for your courage in telling me this."

Your eyes filled with tears and you leaned into Vil’s embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against your cheek sounding as comforting as a lullaby. "Thank you, Vil. You don’t know how much that means to me."

"Thank you, Vil," You whispered, a sense of peace settling over you. "I like you... I like you a lot."

Vil stroked your hair, his touch tender and comforting. "We’ll navigate this together. Your sexuality is a part of who you are, and I love you for all of it. Always remember that."

You looked up at Vil, meeting his gaze. In that moment, you realized how profound the bond you two had that could transcend even words or physicality.

"I like you too," Vil replied, his voice filled with warmth. "Just as you are."

[artsekey]

I really hate how ads have taken over the internet. On one hand, I know that hosting a website costs money, right? And ad revenue is one of the simplest ways for free-to-use websites to cover their operating costs.

My question is-- and I would genuinely love an answer-- is this ever going to stop? Tumblr ran for a long time without ads. So did Youtube. I know that the cost of hosting so much media has gone up, but there are a lot of users on these websites that make the content that drives people to use the service that don't see any of the money generated by this revenue. On Youtube, there's at least a way for creators to make some money from what they do. For most, it isn't much, but the opportunity is there. On Tumblr, well... the ability to convert the visibility of my blog into any financial gain practically nonexistent, though they did at one point promise that users would be able to make money from ads run on their blogs (whatever happened to that, Staff?).

"You can pay to avoid seeing ads!" Tumblr says, as if the views on my main blog alone over the past few years have not generated more than enough ad revenue to cover the price they're asking me to pay, the person who is actively making content that brings eyes to their ads.

I'm not mad at Tumblr for hosting ads. I get that it has to happen because it's the easiest way to keep the site free, and honestly, I imagine Tumblr's staunch opposition to monetization has been a real obstacle for the team building Tumblr. But at the same time, it feels like yet another small concession in the usability of the site. I'm tired of ads that auto-play with blaring audio while I'm scrolling. I'm tired of adds that, if I touch them while trying to scroll past them, take me to an external site. Outside of tumblr, I'm tired of looking for information online only to get a webpage that's 95% ads and otherwise illegible. Hell, I recently got an ad on Discord. Was it unobtrusive? Maybe. But it was there, for the first time, and I know that won't be the end.

I know the first reply I'm going to get on this is "use adblock", and yes, that's a solution, but think about how much the landscape for media has changed in just ten years.

Popular forums are basically gone outside of reddit.

Youtube, without Red, is ad hell. You can't watch more than 3-4 minutes of video without getting sent to marketing hell.

Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter-- it's terrible. I firmly believe they've manufactured a worse experience through the implementation of ads to convince you to buy into their premium services.

Just Check out this video of Penguinz0 trying to watch a video on a third-party site.

There's discussion of putting ads into video games.

Remember when games didn't include micro-transactions? Blizzard is charging $70 for one mythic skin. You could almost buy Overwatch 1 twice-over at that price-point.

Influencers make a living by making their lives into advertisements.

Youtube has retaliated against users using ad-block on non-chrome browsers by artificially inflating the load times of it's videos.

What can we do about this? I imagine companies see it as an infinite money hack; users can't stop companies from hosting ads, and the action they could take to voice their displeasure-- leaving the site, using other competitive services-- has been all but obliterated thanks to the homogeneity of popular social media outlets. If someone is truly so incensed about ads, well-- it isn't like they have to engage with them, right? They can enroll in a cheap, auto-renewing service to get rid of ads entirely. Well, wait, the price of premium might just have to go up. Don't worry, it's auto-renewing! You won't even notice it. Oh, no, it's got to go up again, you won't even notice it.

There's no incentive for them to cap this behavior, and no way for us as users to pressure them to do so. We create these spaces; we fill them with color, art, activism, community, and the companies that ride on the tailcoat of the spaces we create tell us to give them more. What comes next?

[15-lizards]

ASOIAF modern AU class/wealth distinctions bc in the wise words of Mod Sam from the Inn at The Crossroads Discord: “i love modern aus where theyre like oh yeah the lannisters are filthy rich and here's the starks, piling into a minivan to go to public school. they would not fucking do that”

Lannisters: Private jets and COO/CEO/CFO positions at the family company and plain white tshirts that cost $5000. 1% of the 1%. They’re the Roys we already know this no need to elaborate.

Starks: they’re a rugged type of Minnesota/North Dakota/Wyoming wealth. Land rich. Own ranches and mining operations and oil drilling companies. Ppl think they’re normal bc they look like average farmers until they get a tour of their 300,000 acres and private mountain. Seem down to earth but grew up breeding ranch horses, don’t really understand what a car note is, and Nedcat paid for all the starklings college apartments. Also wear normal looking vests and ranching jeans and boots that cost absurd amounts

Tyrells: masters at the “quiet wealth” bullshit. Wayyyy older money compared to the Lannisters, and aren’t aggressive/scrappy like them bc of it. Literal aristocracy like lords or barons or some shit. Multiple residences, family tradition of politics, and loads of passive income. Maybe run a newspaper or two and own some global shipping companies bc of their merchant roots or whatever. Margaery was at one of those international debutante balls for the ubër-wealthy.

Tullys: Not as rich as the Tyrells or Lannisters but still nothing to scoff at. Not upper middle class but more like lower rungs of the upper class. Family tradition of sending all the kids to boarding school (that’s where Lysa got pregnant 🙂‍↕️) and they have some nice yachts and the like. Have one really nice permanent house on the river, a summer house upstate, and an apartment in the city. Normal enough to blend in with most people at their school. Also made their money thru shipping lanes.

Martells: Southern oil barons. Nymeria emigrated over and immediately discovered oil on her apparently shitty piece of land. Thousands of acres dedicated to drilling and cattle ranching. Awful for the environment but greenwash the fuck out of their business. Good at being a man of the ppl despite literally being in the one percent. Very publicly donate to progressive charities and causes to offset the backlash they get from pay the people who work for them slave wages. People stan them on Twitter because they’re hot and not like other billionaires.

Baratheons: slightly newer money but old enough to have no excuse to act the way they do. Loud annoying displays of wealth. Made their fortune mostly because they were good at being overly aggressive when it came to the stock market or sales or smthn idk what they do. Robert buys an egregious house in Florida where him and some other rich repulsive republicans do Labor Day weekend on their yachts with women they paid to be there. Absolutely terrible at saving their money (except Stannis and kinda Renly) and quite literally have to have their accounts frozen by their investment bankers. Actively going bankrupt.

Greyjoys: Not even rich anymore. Had a sizable shipping company at one point before they got poached bought out by the Lannisters. Also they engaged in too much tax fraud and embezzlement so now no one wants to touch them with a ten foot pole. Still live in their dilapidated cliffside house that’s literally ab to crumble into the sea. Theon got to live with the Starks bc once the Greyjoys got audited Ned felt bad.

Targaryens: REAL old money that stretches back like at least 500 years. Have had multiple income sources over the years and almost all of it is blood money of some kind and extracted through violence :) Giant ass portraits of their ancestors in their multiple residences, they all speak Valyrian at home, and they don’t even go to school it’s just private tutors. Obscene wealth that isn’t even fathomable to most people. Famously bred race horses and hunting dogs for a while until there was some familial infighting about ownership of the racetracks and stables and that collapsed. Got audited and investigated twenty years ago and Aerys just killed himself instead of going to jail.

[tomorrowusa]

A lot of those bros who embraced Trump may soon become incel bros.

Apparently the "4B" movement has crossed the Pacific from South Korea.

To explain 4B, this is from Elle...

McKenna, who did not want her last name published for privacy reasons, first heard about 4B a few months ago, via a TikTok video referring to the South Korean social movement. The basic idea: women swear off heterosexual marriage, dating, sex and childbirth in protest against institutionalized misogyny and abuse. (It is called 4B in reference to these four specific no-nos.) The mostly online movement began around 2018 protests against revenge porn and grew into South Korea’s #MeToo-esque feminist wave. In the wake of Trump’s victory, 4B is once again on McKenna’s mind – and she’s not the only one.

Trump’s embrace of manosphere figures such as Joe Rogan, the Nelk Boys and Adin Ross means he has strong support among their evangelists – mainly, young men. But for young women, the former president’s long history of misogyny means a vote for Trump is a vote against feminism, especially with reproductive rights as a key issue in 2024. Ahead of the US election, pundits predicted a history-making gender gap, and early exit polls support that prediction: women aged 18-29 went overwhelmingly left, while Trump picked up ground with their male counterparts compared with 2020. With the race called, TikToks viewed hundreds of thousands of times offered one way for women to go for the jugular: 4B, specifically cutting off contact with men. “Girls it’s time to boycott all men! You lost your rights, and they lost the right to hit raw! 4b movement starts now!” one creator wrote on TiKTok in a video viewed 3.4m times.

B4 began in South Korea to protest blatant misogyny. It grew when South Korean bros helped to elect a misogynistic president.

In South Korea, 4B began as an offshoot of national protests against the spycam epidemic, in which perpetrators filmed targets – most of whom were women – during sex or while urinating in public bathrooms without their knowledge or consent. “These videos were sold and exchanged by men on Discord, and women didn’t know how many men had taken part, and if any of the men in their lives had,” said Min Joo Lee, an assistant professor of Asian studies at Occidental College. “There was a general sense of, ‘Who can I trust? And before I regain my trust in men, I need to refrain from contact with them.’”

Voyeurism is something Trump is famous for.

4B happens at a time South Korea is experiencing a drop in its fertility rate. So women are operating from a position of strength. Of course fertility fanatic Elon Musk is appalled by B4.

South Korea’s fertility struggle caught the attention of the vehement Trump ally Elon Musk. The Tesla CEO has at least 11 living children (one son died in infancy in 2002). He describes pronatalism, the enthusiastic promotion of reproduction, as a way to save humanity from “population collapse”. When Taylor Swift came out in support of Kamala Harris this summer, he seemingly offered, creepily and unprompted, to get her pregnant. He’s propped up South Korea’s declining fertility rate as a case study for Americans who do not get busy making babies. Consider Musk an archetypical 4B foe. He’s far from the only one. Far-right figures such as Nick Fuentes, a white supremacist who has praised Hitler and once described his “ideal wife” as 16 years old, celebrated on X after Trump’s win, tweeting, “I’d just like to take the opportunity to thank men for saving this country from stupid bitches who wanted to destroy the world to keep abortion,” and, “Your body, my choice. Forever.” That sort of violent rhetoric, which is spreading among Trump’s far-right supporters, will not exactly convince the majority of young American women they should be dating at the moment.

Musk's worry about "population collapse" is contrived and probably racist. What he really wants is higher white fertility.

We're in no danger of our species going extinct unless we make the planet unlivable. There are currently 8.1 billion humans. Even if that were cut in half, that would leave us with more humans than there were in 1974; they seemed to do just fine back then with ABBA and Gerald Ford.

So women, do whatever it takes to secure your rights. At the very least, discriminate in favor of guys who donated to Harris-Walz before November 5th.

[wanderingblindly]

On Intimacy (Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri, 600 words, Drabble)

Written in a 20-minute sprint with some very supportive besties on Discord, who are single handedly prying me from my writing slump. For the prompt: "There isn't anything that I wouldn't do for you"

God, it's embarrassing. He's only 24 years old, he's a professional athlete. Allegedly, he's in his prime – he should be, at least. And yet, staring down at his trainers beside the door, he's not.

He leans forward a fraction of a centimeter, hardly visible.

His back twinges.

It shows on his face.

It's been like this for days; the double headers and endless hours on the plane are taking their toll, the rough tracks are the icing on the cake. Jon's doing his best to work on him, he's doing his best to take care of it, and yet. And yet.

He can't bend down to get his shoes on, back extra stiff first thing in the morning.

He could do it, really, if he just admitted that he had to do it differently. Bending at the knee, keeping his back mostly stiff – he could do it. But he shouldn't have to; he's Lando Norris, he eats his stupid trainer-approved food and sleeps early when his schedule necessitates it.

His cheeks start to grow hot, vision going blurry with a destabilizing wash of budding tears.

Embarrassing.

"You ready to go?" Oscar calls from the kitchen, closing the fridge and probably tossing a water bottle between his hands. He raises a brow at Lando when he approaches the entryway, noticing Lando's fixated stare at his feet – at his trainers just a step away. "Lando?"

"Yeah," He says, wincing at the wobble in his voice.

Embarrassing.

But he can do it, of course he can do it. So he leans forward before jerking still – unable to keep the wince off his face. The tears – hot and frustrated and pricking at him from the inside – lose their battle with gravity, sliding down his cheeks.

"You're meeting with Jon first thing, right?" Oscar asks calmly, closing the distance between them with a quick stride. Lando nods, rubbing harshly at his eyes like he can will the tears away.

He doesn't see Oscar slide down to one knee, but he hears his water bottle thud against the floor.

With his palms still pressed to his eyes: "Get up." Lando's voice cracks, awash with a new wave of mortification.

"It's fine," He says, and Lando looks; Oscar's looking up at him, he tilted slightly to the side, fingers making quick work of loosening Lando's laces.

"I don't need you to put on my fucking shoes," The words are harsh, but his voice is pathetic; he's not angry, but rather hurt – self-flagellating.

Oscar shrugs, putting the shoe back on the ground and grabbing Lando's ankle. "I know you don't," His voice is calm, gaze fixed on guiding Lando's foot into the trainer, tying it up.

Lando's breath catches at the delicacy of his touch, something about it burrowing deep in his chest.

One shoe on and the other in hand, Oscar looks back up at him – the thin skin under his eyes flushed pink, lips quirked into the soft half-smile he saves just for when they're alone.

"But I want to." He finishes, driving the point home by reaching for Lando's other ankle.

"It's –" Lando starts to protest instinctively. Degrading. Unnecessary. Awkward.

Oscar cuts him off. "You know I'd do anything for you." He ties the second shoe with a sense of finality, not leaving any room for Lando's poor attempt at pride.

"Yeah," Lando says softly, pulling Oscar's gaze back up to him. He stands slowly, not breaking eye contact – nearly nose to nose. "Thanks."

"Of course," He smiles, leaning forward for a chaste kiss. "We're gonna be late to the track."

It's dizzying. Lando feels like he's floating on air, images of Oscar looking up at him running behind his reddened eyes.

He fights the butterflies in his stomach to get it out: "Right."

[rosenclaws]

Happy Birthday Old Man || Old Man!Logan drabble

warnings: none, maybe a little sad

a/n: I can't believe Hugh is 56. He's now 33 years older than me. For now. (it'll be 32 next week but that's not much better oops)

come join my discord server!

Logan's back ached worse than normal today. It's been a pretty shit day to be fair. The fall weather only made his bones creak more and it's homecoming season meaning all those asshole rich kids with daddies money rent a limo. Stupid high schoolers who think they're being sneaky with their drinking making a mess in his car. He charged double the price after one of them puked all over his seats.

Glancing at the clock in his limo he sees that its finally time to go home. His mind drifts as he drives and drives. Only thinking about you as he nears closer to home. A part of him wonders why you're still here. He can't give you the best life. He can't give you any life. He's dying. Still you stay with him. Taking care of him. Why? He'll never really understand. As he pulls into the dark driveway he sees the lights still on in the kitchen.

"Honey," He calls as he stumbles inside.

"Logan!" You smile as you appear from the kitchen. It's nearly 3 in the morning and yet the smile on your face stays. He collapses into a chair. Groaning as his bones creak and pain shoots through his whole body.

"I'm alright." He says with a tired smile, he's lying but he can't stand to see you look so pitiful. Not at him. You sigh as you go over and start to massage his shoulders. Kissing his forehead as he melts into your touch.

"Are you hungry?" You ask. He nods. To be honest he doesn't really eat much anymore. At least nothing healthy. You disappear into the kitchen only to come back covering something with your hands. Slowly you move your hand to reveal a small cupcake with a candle in it.

"What's this honey?" You place the cupcake by his side and smile.

"It's your birthday." He furrows his brows as he thinks. Was it really? God he lost track of his birthday a long time ago.

"You sure?" You laugh and bring the cupcake up to his face.

"Very. Charles told me a while ago. I know that you aren't big on celebration but..." You drift off, starting to regret your silly little idea. He breathes in and blows out the candle. Suppressing a cough as he plucks the candle out.

"Thanks." He digs his finger into the frosting. It's sweet, just like you. It's also homemade. He can see the flour on your face and clothes.

He almost feels guilty. For being the lucky one who gets your love. All your hard work just to make him a cupcake for the birthday he forgot about. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? He rips off a piece of the cupcake and holds it up to your mouth. Feeding you the soft cake and getting frosting on your face.

"Logan," You gently scold him. Picking up some of the frosting yourself and smearing it on his cheek.

"Hey!" He smacks your hand away and pulls you into his lap. He kisses the frosting off your face and you gently wipe away the frosting on his cheek. He groans when he moves just a little too quick and you get off of him immediately. Settling in between his legs instead.

"I'm fine honey, promise." You smile and rest your head on his knees. You try to hide your sadness as you look at the man in front of you. You love him and you don't know how much time you have left with him. But you push that thought away. It's his birthday. Another year and he's still here.

"Happy birthday Logan." You stay by his side as he rests in the chair. Basking in the soft moment for as long as you can.

"Thank you honey," Happy birthday to the old man.

Now all you can do is hope he makes it to his next one.

[agenderasshole]

Andrew & tattoos

Been working on my redraw of Neil and Andrew from Pride 2021, and I've been inundated with thoughts of Andrew and tattoos.

(Including wonderful thoughts and ideas from people on the aftg big bang discord server)

Some of these will be more specific than others

Andrew gets a whole bunch of tattoos over the years. It's a reclamation of his body, and he likes the look of them, but that doesn't mean he ever gets truly comfortable in the chair. He can't be because there's someone he doesn't trust touching him and stabbing him repeatedly with needles for at least half an hour, but up to six at a time when he sits for bigger pieces. So every time he gets one, someone goes with him. Usually, it's Neil, both because that's who he trusts most and also the convenience of them living together for so long.

The two of them have a few matching tattoos. They have the key to the Columbia house with each other's initials on them. Neil's is over his heart, I'm less certain where Andrew's is. They have matching continuous single-line tattoos of the cats, and they each have roman numeral tattoos of the other's fox number.

In his fifth year, Andrew mentions that he'll be getting a Medusa tattoo. Aaron, who has been quietly researching ways to support SA survivors (which only Katelyn knows about), knows what a Medusa tattoo symbolizes and immediately offers to go with him. Andrew doesn't object and lets him come along. Because Andrew doesn't object to Aaron going to the session with him, neither does Neil, despite assuming he would go with Andrew. He still doesn't get along with Aaron, but he thinks Aaron going with Andrew will be good for them both. Before the session, Neil stops by to tell Aaron what Andrew's favorite tattoo session snacks/treats are and his favorite place to go afterward.

At some point, after he graduates from Palmetto, Andrew gets a tattoo in honor of Betsy. He tells Bee before he gets it, on one of their weekly phone calls and she offers to come with him. At the appointment, Bee surprises him by getting a matching tattoo with him. He gets forget-me-nots surrounded by a bee on his shoulder. She gets hers over her heart, and he gets his on his shoulder so she's always looking out for him. He holds her hand through the entirety of her time in the chair, and she talks to him through the entirety of his. They both quietly laugh at Andrew's choice of the forget-me-nots considering his memory. But if Besty notices that when they are colored they are also the same color as Neil's eyes, she keeps that observation to herself.

Other small one-off thoughts

'Sunrise' and 'death' on his collarbones with a delicate 'A' at the base of his throat

A fox skull surrounded by orange and white gladiolus flowers (strength of character, faithfulness, and remembrance)

A floral bouquet for his family. Edelweiss for Nicky (nobility, devotion, and resilience, also I hc Andrew having a love of musicals.) Magnolias and Dandelions for Aaron (perserverance and resilience.) Thistles for Neil (resilience, strength, determination, protection and pride.) Lotuses for Kevin (Resilience and overcoming adversity)

Barbed wire above where his arm bands end

There's probably more that I'll think of when it's not 1:30 am but that's where I'm stopping for the night

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 13] No Regrets

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Kissing your ex-boyfriend back shouldn’t feel so wrong, yet it does. But you can’t pull away because your lips are stuck on him. He deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip before it enters your mouth. It should be your sign to pull away, but you can’t move.

Your tongue presses against his, while his hands stop cupping your face and they move down to your waist, pulling your whole body closer to him. The five years of pent up frustration are poured into the kiss from both of your ends. You know something though, that once it escalates neither of you will stop and you don’t want to do something you’ll regret.

When he pulls away to kiss lower, you get a glance at his eyes and it makes your stomach churn. You can’t do that with him. Never again. Your hands go to his arms and you unhook his arms from your waist. You take a deep breath, in disbelief that this is what’s happening– What you allowed to happen.

“That’s a funny answer considering you left me to get married to her.” You point out. You have nothing to say to him, and Satoru takes a moment to gather his thoughts. You have to work more, but you doubt you’ll be able to after what just happened. He’ll understand if you leave.

Actually, you don’t care if he doesn’t understand. Satoru is clearly not someone that understands your feelings, and you’re tired of considering how he feels when he can’t keep that same energy toward you.

“I’m leaving. We can do the rest tomorrow during work hours.” You tell him, and he watches as you walk away. He’s glued to the ground, and maybe he should follow to stop you but he can’t. 

All the progress you’ve made crumbles to the ground, and he watches it fall right before his eyes. Yet he isn’t too sad. There’s a smile on his lips as his index and middle finger touches his mouth. When you slam the door shut, he’s knocked back into reality and he walks back to his desk. He puts the picture frame that he has of his wife down and opens his desk drawer to pull out a picture.

Eighteen-year-old Satoru with his new girlfriend, right before Satoru leaves for the airport to start his studies abroad. Maybe he should’ve stuck around, gone to the same university as you, things would surely be different. He probably would’ve still been married, but not to Sayo. He probably wouldn’t be in this position though, and now with how unhappy Satoru is, he doesn’t mind the thought. He would leave it within a heartbeat to get back with you, but of course that isn’t possible anymore. 

If only he could go back in time and knock some sense into his younger self… But he can’t and he’s left to deal with the consequences of his actions.

You hate coming home so late to find your son sound asleep. It feels like you’re missing so much of his life and it reminds you of yourself, wishing you could spend more time with your own mother who obviously couldn’t since she was working. At least you had Satoru, Ren doesn’t have anyone other than the nanny. You need to quit soon, make an arrangement with Mrs. Gojo about bills and stuff, knowing that she’ll do anything for her grandson. She won’t let you go that easily though.

“I love you, baby.” You mutter as you kiss his temple. You pick him up from the bed and carry him to your room. It won’t matter much, by the morning you’ll be gone. You wonder if he’s beginning to like the nanny better than he likes you simply because he spends so much time with her. The thought does make you feel jealous, so you try to get it out of your head.

At the very least you have to take a vacation with him, go somewhere he really wants to go so you can make more memories together. You don’t want to take the role of his absent mother as well, his father already has that role. Maybe you can take him to the beach before summer is over… That would have to be soon though, fall is just around the corner.

You tuck him into the bed before looking in your drawers for your pajamas and then going to the bathroom to get ready to go to bed. It’s past midnight, and you have to get up early too. You feel so tired yet you know you won’t sleep. The only thought in your mind is Satoru and how he had the audacity to kiss you.

Yet you feel happy. You feel happy because you still deeply care about him even when you try not to. You remind yourself that what he did is wrong since he’s married, even when he acts like he doesn’t care about the marriage. You want no part in whatever the hell is going on there, you’ll be the one that ends up losing if anything happens.

You waste no time doing your nightly routine, cutting some steps since you want to get into bed fast. When you get out of the bathroom, you find Ren sitting up on the bed. He looks around confused, wondering how he ended up in this room. Until he notices you, causing him to get off the bed and run over to hug you. You hug him back, a big smile coming to your face.

“Hi, mommy.” He says. You hadn’t seen him in more than a day, he deeply misses you.

“Hi, Ren.” You answer, you pick him up and carry him back to the bed. “I missed you, baby. I promise we’ll spend a whole entire week together soon.”

“I missed you too.” He responds, his little eyes closing on their own. You tuck him in again, kissing his forehead. You lay down beside him, and you hug him. Thankfully it doesn’t take too long for you to fall asleep.

The next morning you get to work a little later than you’re supposed to, and you’re expected to encounter an enraged Satoru but you don’t care. You’re absolutely done with him, and if he dares to fire you, you’ll leave without a single complaint. The last thing you expect to find there is a vase of white lilies, but that’s what you’re met with. 

You don’t have to think twice about who left them there, you immediately know they’re from Satoru. You still look for a card, and it’s buried within the flowers. You read ‘I’m sorry’ with no name, but you can also tell it’s him since it’s his handwriting. You bury it in the same spot before walking to the office. You knock on the door, and you don’t care to get a response before opening it.

“I was wondering when you’d get here.” Satoru says, looking at you as you walk into the office. You shut the door behind you before asking,

“What was the apology for?” And it feels like an eternity for him to answer the question. You know it’s for the kiss but you want to hear it from him. You need him to assure you that it won’t happen again even if part of you wants it to happen again. 

“For kissing you.” He answers, and you smile at him. When you’re about to thank him for the apology because you didn’t think he’d be mature enough to take this step. But he opens his mouth again, “Even though I don’t regret it.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you’re married, Mr. Gojo.” You can’t believe you have to remind him. You truly thought that the man in front of you would result in a loyal husband, either to you or someone else. You didn’t think he’d stoop so low. “You left me to be with her, and now you want to do that to her with me? You’re ridiculous.”

“I guess you’re right–” He begins and you hate the way he starts his response. You can’t hear the rest before you snap,

“You guess? You have no idea how much you��ve hurt me, Satoru. The least you can do is act like a man and stick by your decision.” You slightly raise your voice at him, not caring that you’re in a work setting because he obviously doesn’t care about it. “Look, I don’t give a shit if you want to cheat on her but keep me out of it. You aren’t going to toy with me.”

“Why are you acting like you didn’t give in? You could’ve pulled away immediately but you didn’t.” He argues, and you sigh. He isn’t wrong, but this isn’t about if you did kiss him back or not. You don’t want this to happen again.

“I was tired and didn’t know what I was doing. You initiated it.” You remind him. Your blood begins to boil, and you didn’t think that you’d be having this argument this morning. You didn’t expect any less from him, you aren’t sure why you’re surprised.

“You knew exactly what you were doing–” He begins but the office door opens, and you both turn your attention to the woman that walks inside. His wife stuns, wearing a long black leather skirt with a red blouse. She smiles when she sees you and then at her husband.

“Sorry, I didn’t see anyone so I welcomed myself in.” Sayo says, and you glare at Satoru. You aren’t thinking straight. You and Satoru exchange a look for a minute before you look back at his wife.

“Your husband kissed me last night.” You tell her, and her brows raise. The moment the words leave your mouth you curse yourself for being dumb enough to tell on him– You know how this situation plays out, and you’ll probably be berated even though you aren’t at fault for it. She looks at her husband and then back at you. 

“Oh… Okay.” She responds. She looks at her husband, and she keeps staring at him. She clears her throat before asking you in a calm manner, “Could you please leave us for a moment?”

You nod before walking out of the office, cursing yourself for even mentioning it. You want to listen in on their conversation, but in the end it doesn’t matter. The feeling of regret slowly washes away though when you take a seat in your chair. You won’t be affected negatively if you’re fired, after all, Mrs. Gojo is the grandmother of your child. She might not like you, but she won’t let it happen. Even if it happens, she has enough to cover for you and your son.

She won’t take Ren from you because she doesn’t want her son to find out about him, so you’re sure that you’re safe. You’ll be okay even if you get fired.

You try to focus on your job while you still have it, looking up every minute or so to see if Sayo walks out of the office. When she finally does, you tense up. She walks over to you, and you expect her to start yelling at you. But she doesn’t. 

“I’m really sorry about him… I have no idea what’s gotten into him.” She apologizes. She looks around for a moment before she lowers her voice, “Could you do me a favor and keep this a secret between us? I don’t want the wrong rumors to spread.”

“Of course, Mrs. Gojo. No worries.” You respond.

“Please call me Sayo, we’re friends.”

Surprisingly enough, Satoru doesn’t need you for the rest of the day. He’s called into a meeting that takes up the entire day, and you’re left to handle everything for the charity event. You can’t verify everything with him, and you choose what you feel is right. Handling all of it alone makes you wonder when you’ll be sent back to work with Shoko, and when Mrs. Gojo will finally get a new secretary for his son. You doubt it’ll happen any time soon.

Most of the afternoon you find yourself staring at the flowers that he left on your desk, and you find yourself indecisive as to what to do with them. They’re beautiful, yet you don’t want them simply because Satoru left them for you.

The fact that Satoru isn’t there, lets you clock out earlier so you can head home to your son. Unluckily for you, just when you’re about to leave, he gets to the office. He leaves the door open so you peek your head in before telling him, “I’m leaving.”

“No. Come inside. We have to talk.” His voice is stern, and while you feel like talking back to him, you feel like you’ve done enough. You’ll just hear him out, and then tell him that you need to drop the subject. What happened last night can’t happen again.

“What is it?” You try to suppress the attitude in your voice but it’s hard to. Luckily for you, he only talks about your job, and he doesn’t bring up the fact that you told his wife that he kissed you. When he verifies everything, he dismisses you.

You rush to the elevator when he does, you don’t want to be there for when he changes his mind. While you wait for the elevator, he walks and stands beside you, but luckily he’s leaving too. You almost choose the stairs to avoid going into the elevator with him, but in the end, you get inside with him.

It’s weird that you’re alone in the lift since so many people are inside it at this hour. But it’s empty now. You stand on opposite sides, and you watch as the elevator doors close. You almost comment on how weird it is to see him leave so early, but you don’t want to initiate any conversation with him.

You glance at each other for a moment, and he clears his throat, putting his hands in his pockets before he shares, “You didn’t get me in trouble, if that’s what you’re wondering. Sayo doesn’t care.”

“What a shame.” You answer, your eyes focused on the tiny screen that tells you which floor the elevator is on. Your response earns a low chuckle from the man. You look at him again, and he’s staring at you.

You look at his eyes, and they immediately remind you of your son. You almost feel guilty as you gaze into his eyes. You’re keeping something so massive from him, something that he wanted as much as you did. You had no way of telling him then, but now he’s in front of you and you choose to keep quiet. You weren’t at fault at first but now you are.

“I’m sorry.” The words slip out of your mouth unintentionally, and of course he doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for. You watch his eyes soften, and he genuinely laughs.

“What? For telling her?” He asks, and you chew on the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to respond. You can’t admit what you’re sorry for. He moves closer to you, close enough for you to touch but he doesn’t. “It’s fine. You did the right thing. I was out of line.”

“That’s nice to hear.” You respond. You stare at each other in silence until the elevator doors open. Before you can walk away he says,

“But I still don’t regret it.”

[fleshwerks]

there's also the issue of how for three games tevinter has been this absolute monster of an empire that is entirely built on magocracy and slavery, active conflict with the qunari, and its conflict with the south based not on just its previous occupation of the now sovereign nations of the Marches, Ferelden and Orlais, but also a schism in Andrastianism.

Even in Inquisition when the Venatori war bands came at you, their melee units were dressed in gladiatorial garb and wearing padlocked collars around their necks, indicating slavery.

Don't tell me that Dorian Pavus and friends not just managed to abolish slavery in scant 10 years, but somehow turned the place around to a point where an elfie can freely traipse around with nary a jab at their big ears, and a qunari skulking about doesn't get as much as a lazily raised eyebrow.

Here on earth at least in America, slavery's been abolished for more than a century, yet racial tensions and grievances still run near the boiling point.

On one hand it is relaxing for I guess new players but also old elven enthusiasts for finally getting to play as an elfie and not having to defend your very existence as an elf at all times. On the other hand, it also entirely robs dedicated elf players and the in-game elves of the catharsis of emerging as an independent faction and set of traditions and beliefs and feeling like the millennium long bloodied and bruised fight for it bore fruit.

A part of introducing such great injustices into the narrative is fighting against it and succeeding. The catharsis lies in being able to courageously look into your oppressor's eye and see them impotently gnashing their teeth, or seeing contriteness and acknowledgment of this past fight against injustice. And for players specifically, especially those who are discriminated against in real life on the basis of their race or class status, a part of what makes elves and freedom fighters as a PC appealing is the shared struggle, and the joy of being able to spit your oppressor in the eyeball.

Having now watched full playthroughs, none of it is there anymore in any significant capacity. The joy and pain of being the ferocious underdog fighting for justice for the oppressed is gone.

There's an argument to be made that this new threat has unified people against it and all old squabbles are put on hold until the threat's been dealt with, but in real life, again and again, times like these would sow even greater chaos and discord among people, because they want to take their fear out on someone, they want to maintain a sense of control and power in the face of the untouchable, insurmountable beast of total war and gods coming to delete the earth, and they reach for the targets they actually can touch: their fellow people, the outgroups.

I get that Veilguard wanted to strictly focus on a smaller scale and chose 'power of personal friendship' as their focus, but it comes at a cost of lore. And it comes at a cost of the catharsis of actually addressing this chaos and fear among different groups of people, and telling convincing them that if for nothing else, then we need mutual respect and equality and united overarching goals right now to show this talking toilet seat, the human centipede and their pet dragons what's what so that we'd even have an earth to oppress each other on.

Intergroup issues don't cease to exist in the face of a greater threat, they actually tend to increase. Where are the massive slave armies of Tevinter? And where is the protagonist's chance to tell the oppressors that 'you know, you'd have a much better chance at fighting this threat effectively if you allowed your slave army to fight for their future, not just yours?

I remember when we were still all speculating about Tevinter, I'd expressed unhappiness about ditching Southern Thedas, but I had ceded that politically, Tevinter is a setting that is absolutely rife with political and social intrigue, given that Tevinter is responsible for so much of what we as players dealt with in Southern Thedas, from the Blight to the anti-mage sentiment, to even the faith schism, and of course Tevinter sourcing slaves from Orlais and Ferelden. Not to mention its occupation of Southern regions. Kirkwall alone was a pitch black crowning jewel and a hotspot of Tevinter's terror and scars coupled with the fact that the location most likely sits on top of a possibly corrupted titan, and something besides human error and greed is driving Kirkwall insane. But now Kirkwall's been destroyed and all the plot hooks and intrigue along with it.

And Tevinter? Tevinter is a kitten compared to the rotten, roaring dragon it was made out to be in the past lore.

Not to mention that Tevinter isn't the destroyer of the Elvhen empire, it's its inheritor, it scavenged all its evils from the ruins of an Elvhen empire that collapsed on itself thanks to Chin Gigachad with shiny new veneers, and his equally deranged buddies. You'd think that this would cause insane strife among elves and the rest of the races, and that the dwarves especially would have some words to say. And you'd think that elves in Thedas could retaliate with 'and you humans especially learned fucking nothing from it so you're no better than our ancestors, and also, I, an elf, wasn't even alive and neither were 99.8% of my fellow elves back then so your issue is not with us, get the hell off our backs, you humans just continued what the worst of our own kind did to us, shut your flat tooth mouths, you wanted Elvhenan's power for yourselves, well, now it's come knocking, it looks ugly, and it looks a lot like YOU'.

But no. All of that depth, the terror, and the player's chance to stand up to that terror, all but gone.

I reiterate, I see the merit in allowing elves and qunari to finally be unapologetically themselves, it must be relaxing. But that's not why people by and large play elves and qunari. They play them because the two races in Thedas struggle against something that they can unfairly and sadly have to struggle with in real life. Except in real life, winning against oppression is damned difficult, but in a video game, like I said, you have the ability to actually do something against the oppression you face, and do it effectively.

And the Venatori don't count. Because they're a cult, but in real life there aren't many convenient cults to rail against, in real life, it's a problem that infests the society as a whole. And it's infinitely more cathartic to be able to take your suffering and address the entire society on your own terms than just delete a few cults and it's all peaches and cream after that.

Fantasy worlds hinge on suspension of disbelief: You can have fantastic elements, but it needs to be relatable. And Tevinter especially being sanitised of its historically absolutely rotten elements for... what? Ain't it.

Contrast the entirety of Veilguard to waltzing into Halamshiral's Winter Palace, being treated with derision and suspicion for who you are, and acing it so well the masked morons can't help but bow in deference because you the player took their prejudice and completely unmasked it (heh), and rubbed their noses in it. That was nice, right? Halamshiral is, after all, one of the best-regarded parts of the Inquisition BECAUSE of the intrigue, the prejudice, and for the underdog to not just confront it, but force feed their own prejudice to them while remaining if not magnanimous and better than them, then at least being given the joyous opportunity to be just as petty and reclaim equality based on shared traits like pettiness, gossip and prejudice. To show them, they can throw what they like at you, but you'll match them step for step, and they can just deal with it.

Where is all of that in stinkin' Tevinter?? The mother of all of Thedas' societal ills. I say 'mother' because the daughters in the south inherited a lot from mother, but went on to be awful in their own independent ways, too.

Disclaimer: I have seen one playthrough, so of course I have missed details and nuances, but that's the problem, you know? Most players only play it once. You need to get out as much info and lore as possible on the first time, because most people will not be returning for seconds. It's on par with the other thing BioWare does, hiding a metric ton of lore in supplementary material, books and comics. No. That shit needs to be in the game, and it needs to be visible.

And Tevinter... You could sell Fenris back to slavery. You could rescure an elven slave and take her in. You had an entire alienage being sold to Tevinter magisters. You had Calpernia. What even happened to Calpernia? Did she ever even matter? You had the rebel mages stumble into Tevinter indentured servitude in Redcliffe. Why is Tevinter suddenly done a 180 in just ten years due to a few upstart magisters' impassioned speeches? We know what happens to real life freedom fighting activists in real life. They get shot. On government's orders. They get shot even more when times are tough and a government is trying to maintain the status quo in the face of an even greater threat.

And if it was all some kind of commentary on Donald Trump and his crazies... and what's going on right now with hybrid warfare waged by Russia against all of the Western world, you would assume that all of the Northern nations of Thedas would be hotspots of even greater oppression, internal strife and division, suspicion and distrust, hostility between various civilian groups and so on.

How satisfying would it have been to be able to witness that, confront it, and had the opportunity to address it all with extreme prejudice instead of bickering at the dinner table about bringing too many books on an expedition with a companion whose race is currently in active, extremely oppressive conflict with damn near all of Northern Thedas, like who Taash or possibly Rook is beyond their gender identity wouldn't get absolutely brutalised by being, you know, not just Qunari by philosophy, but an actual member of the race driving an active war in all of Northern Thedas. We got an one-two punch in reputation for daring to be a secular Qunari mage in Halamshiral ball, but the North's response to a Qunari is 'oh look, a Qunari.'

Where is the established lore and established struggles? What happened to all those hooks?