#i want to post that first so that i can then continue to just. write about this game from a semi-casual and. i dunno

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[etclouie]

Hiii <3

Can I request a poly!marauders x reader where she gets a new piercing. And then like how the guys react to it like if they accidentally touch it and hurt her or helping clean it and stuff! Thx xx

tender care

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: getting a new piercing and your boyfriends become overly cautious around it (poly!marauders x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: fluff mainly, piercing isn’t specified but it’s visible on eye level (if this makes sense), the boys being surprised by the piercing at first but they get over it, someone elbows the piercing in their sleep, one to one convo with sirius, sirius calls remus a ‘restless bugger’ once, pretty sure that’s it??, lmk if i missed any

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 657

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: sorry it took me so long to get to this (first post after kinktober too, so hope it’s a good comeback)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 marauders masterlist | main masterlist

you’d gotten a new piercing over the holidays, forgetting to mention it in the letters you’d sent your boyfriends before they came over to yours to stay. 

Sirius and Remus arrived at the same time, while James was late. the three of you were hanging out in your room until the door opened, revealing James holding his bag. 

“starting without me?”

he teased like he always did, standing from between both other boys to give James a kiss on the cheek. 

and that’s when he seen it. 

your new piercing. 

“wait, when’d you get that?”

his question had Remus and Sirius’ ears perking up before they were leaping out of bed to re-examine your appearance, eyes landing on the piercing before giving each other a questioning look. 

“oh a couple of weeks ago, must’ve slipped my mind when i was writing to yous”

you told, eyes flicking from James to Sirius and then to Remus. looking away from the three of them as they started to fawn over the piercing, mumbling out about helping you take care of it. 

“why didn’t you tell us?”

Sirius chimed in, slightly disregarding your words and attentively pointing out towards the piercing. 

practically poking and prodding at the newly healed piercing, before you were pushing his hands away. 

“it’s not like i didn’t want to tell yous, i just forgot to. besides, kinda knew you’d react like this”

you told, hooking a finger under Sirius’ chin before tilting it away with a smile. turning into Remus while his hands carefully splayed across your hips, eyes admiring the new jewellery you adorned. 

“ignore them, think it looks great. they just want to make sure you’re doing fine, taking care of it ‘nd all”

nodding along to his words, head tilting back towards the other two boys who were nodding in agreement to Remus. 

smiling at their concerns, your boys really did worry about you. wanting to take care of every little thing for you. 

climbing back into bed and patting the empty spaces around you, humming as they followed after you and cuddled in around you. 

James on your right side and Remus on your left, while Sirius lay his head on your lap. combing your fingers through his hair as the three of them continued on about taking care of you and your new piercing. 

you’d woken up before the boys, your parents away to work before any of you would’ve dreamed to of woken up. 

making your way into the bathroom to get ready for the day, dabbing a damp cloth at your new piercing trying to reduce the pain from one of the boys elbowing it in your sleep. 

the creak of the bathroom door opening had your attention darting towards it, eyes landing on Sirius. 

“sorry wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up yet”

you told, pulling the towel away from your piercing and setting it down on the rim of the sink. 

holding your arms out to Sirius, his head resting on your shoulder and your arms going around his neck. pressing a kiss to his forehead as he cuddled in as close to you as he could, his arms loosely crossed at the small of your back before he murmured out. 

“what’s the towel for?”

fingers brushing his hair out of his face as you held his gaze, his head lifting and his eyes holding concern at your prolonged pause. 

his hands moving to cradle your face and tilting it from side to side, searching for any wounds or injuries before his eyes landed on your new piercing. 

“someone managed to elbow it during the night, but i’m fine promise”

you tried assuring him, smiling softly up at him. his thumbs soothing once over your cheeks before he was resting his forehead against yours, voice a tired murmur as he replied. 

“i’ll have a word with them, was probably Remus, y’know how he gets. restless bugger”

requests are open here !

[befemininenow]

Admit it. You want her outfit more than anything. Still afraid of being called a sissy? Honey, sissy is just a mindset. But deep inside, your identity is female. There is nothing sissy about wanting to wear such a tightfit bodysuit, a lovely skirt, shiny pantyhose, and some tall high heels. That is an outfit women generally wear. Women like you, whether cis or trans. Does it feel emasculating? Perhaps. But is it also affirming for your feminine side? Absolutely! I bet your nice little egg has hatched at this point. (I feel like a mistress just writing this lol

There's a voting poll underneath. If want to skip the long description, scroll below and vote. Good luck!

Now that I feel better after the shitshow last night, it's time to leave politics behind and move on to another voting topic: outfits! This is not only such an affirming outfit for the fall season, but it's also one of the most feminine and modern outfits ever. It just screams femme! I even have a near identical outfit because I love it so much!

That got me thinking: there's just so many outfits that feel "emasculating", but few that affirm the trans woman in you. You know the ones: schoolgirl uniforms, maid costumes, ballet outfits, office secretary, housewife attire, and even waitress outfits. While not all the mentioned outfits are bad (I have a guilty pleasure for Hooters outfits), I feel that some of them are too flashy and have too plain in the feminization world.

We need something more affirming, more unique, more aesthetically pleasing, more... permanent. More in line with your transfeminine identity as opposed to fulfilling a kink. IMO, I feel that this outfit is one those that accomplish that. Not too flashy, but not too plain. Balanced enough to make you feel affirmed while looking like another girl in the outside world. IMO, one can never go back to wearing boy's clothes once you try something sexy like this!

I'm dying of trying something new for this blog: For this month only, I want to make at least 4+ feminizing captions per week with women wearing this outfit. The main purpose is to convince you to go deeper into feminization by trying this outfit out. Once you try it out and love how it feels so femme instead of humiliating, you will have the rite of passage into becoming a trans woman. You can still wear the other outfits if it's your thing, but your feminine wardrobe will expand further after this moment. If the first option wins, I will fulfill that new plan of 4+ captions in addition to my regular caption posts and reblogs. If the second option wins, I will just continue making my regular posts when I have the chance or need to upload (Hint: I'm not really uploading as much).

Now, let's get to the polls, the feminization polls, that is!

[penkura]

PENKURAAAAA

I love your writing, especially for Law and Zoro. I'm also a sucker for the parent fics you do. What if reader and Law/Zoris kids were to surprise reader on their birthday? What would they do? How would they do it? Maybe reader thinks everyone forgot their birthday but the crew is actually just in on the surprise? Thanks for reading friend, I would love to see what you think ^^♡

HIII THANK YOUUUU I'm so glad you like the parent fics, they're some of favorite to write. 😊

I didn't think I'd finish this in time to post on my birthday but I did!! I wasn't sure where to go at first so I just started typing and this is what I've got!! I'm pretty happy with it myself, so I hope you like it too!! 😄

Law

Law has never forgotten a birthday or anniversary ever since you first got together. His ability to remember every date leaves you impresses every time, especially after your son and daughter were born, he kept every important date in the front of his mind so her never forgot. He intended to celebrate every important, special day so you and your kids knew how much he loved you. You make sure to do the same for Law, even if he’d rather you not celebrate his birthday, the grins he gets from your children every year make it worth remembering the day.

That’s why it’s very strange to wake up on your birthday without Law in your bed with you, or even your son Rosinante yelling ‘happy birthday’ to wake you. Your daughter Cora is still learning to talk, but even she would already be in your bed and giggling to help get you up for the day. It’s odd, you’re not sure what to think as you start getting ready for the day, still no sign of your family or the other Heart Pirates around. Once you leave your room, it’s oddly quiet but you pass by a few of your crewmates on your way to Law’s office, expecting him to be there at least. None of them say anything about your birthday, Bepo and Ikkaku seem a little antsy when you greet them, though you don’t think anything of it, even when they try to guide you to the kitchen instead.

You don’t go with them, saying you’d like to see your family first, opening the door to Law’s office and being surprised at what you see. Law at his desk is normal, even with your daughter sitting in his lap, but what’s different is the amount of streamers across the walls and floor, wrapping paper pieces mixed in, your children busy scribbling away on paper likely making cards for you.

It's so early you can’t believe the two are awake, especially seeing how Law appears to he asleep, his hat over this face and leaning back in his chair, but still holding little Cora so she can sit up and continue coloring.

Of course he wouldn’t forget, he was probably trying to surprise you, keeping things a secret and bringing your children to his office so you could sleep in while he got things together. That would also explain why most of your crewmates seemed anxious around you, they didn’t want you to figure it out too soon.

“Mama!”

When Rosi sees you, he’s torn between excited and upset, you weren’t supposed to see anything yet and the five-year-old was doing his best to keep everything secret after Law brought up your birthday and making cards for you. He pouts a little, but still jumps up to hug you, which you return.

“You weren’t s’pposed to see yet…”

Quietly laughing, to not wake Law even though Cora is starting to whine when she sees you, you hug Rosi a bit tighter before kissing the top of his head.

“You’re so sweet! I’m sorry I saw everything, sweetie!”

Rosi whines this time, telling you that you’re hugging him too tight, before you let him go and move to pick up Cora, who squeals when you do so and kiss her cheeks. Law doesn’t even wake at that, you wonder if he actually slept last night or not.

“You’re all so wonderful, I’m so blessed to have you guys.”

Rosi makes you promise not to tell anyone that you know, and you’re still surprised later that day at how big the party is. Law tells you later that your son thought it up, he just helped put it all together with the rest of your crew. No one finds out that you knew, Rosi keeps it a secret too and even when your daughter nearly drops her piece of cake on your shirt, it’s still the best birthday you’ve had in a while.

Zoro

While Zoro isn’t the best at remembering dates, your birthday is one he never forgets, no matter how long you’ve been together or how many other important days come and go. You know your captain and crew well enough that anything worth celebrating gets a huge party, birthdays are no exception, especially so after your daughter’s birth a few years ago. Every first for little Kuina was celebrated as only the Straw Hats could, food and drinks galore, even though she’d be confused by what was happening.

When she’s four-years-old and your birthday comes around again, Kuina is adamant on you having a big surprise party, even when Zoro tells her you aren’t the biggest fan of surprises (your unexpected pregnancy with her being an exception). She’ll pout and fuss until Zoro finally agrees, enlisting Nami and Sanji to get everything planned but not tell him the details. He trusts them to get everything planned, Kuina being their biggest help, but Zoro doesn’t want to know anything, so he doesn’t potentially spoil you on the surprise.

Kuina is better at keeping the secret than anyone else. If you ask her what she’s doing, when she grabs all her paper and coloring supplies, she just tell you she’s going to make a map with aunt Nami. That’s not unusual so you don’t question it, she does bring you her own map later that day anyway.

When your birthday finally comes around, neither Zoro nor Kuina says anything, they aren’t even around when you wake up that morning. Not uncommon though, everyone normally lets you sleep in on your birthday, but usually Zoro is there and Kuina comes running in after a few minutes to wake you both.

Once you’ve dressed and gotten ready for the day, you head for the kitchen, but you’re confused when no one you pass says anything to you apart from a good morning. Usopp just grins and says it, Franky does the same. Luffy is barely audible as he runs off to wherever, dragging Jinbei along with him. It really makes you wonder if they’ve all forgotten what today is. You don’t see anyone else until you get to the kitchen, only to have streamers from party poppers hit you in the face, hearing Kuina say ‘oops’.

“You weren’t supposed to do it in her face, Kuina!”

“Sorry, daddy!” Kuina gives you an apologetic look before she smiles, “Sorry, mommy! Happy birthday!!”

Once you’re able to see the kitchen better, there’s streamers and balloons round the room, your favorite breakfast all made and ready, a cake in the middle of the table, and every member of your crew there, you figure Luffy and Jinbei had slipped in behind you. They all give you their birthday wishes, and it nearly makes you cry which makes Zoro smirk at you.

“Now don’t cry about it. It was all your daughter’s idea.”

“Shut up, Zoro.” You may be near tears but the smile you have tells everyone you’re happy, as Kuina comes out and hugs you with a pout.

“Mommy, don’t cry! I made you a picture!!”

It’s childish work of course, she’s only four, but it’s still an adorable picture she’s drawn of the two of you, making you hug her back and lift her off the ground.

“Thank you so much, Kuina. I love it!”

You never question if any of them have forgotten your birthday again, expecting it to be due to Kuina having her own little plans for your special day. You’ll have to do the same for her next year now.

[in1-nutshell]

After seeing the ophelia in idw posts I'm really curious about what would Ironhold be like in idw like,

Would they also leave the decepticons? If so, what made them leave? Did their father also shoot them in this universe? Did they realise that their faction had strayed too far from its original goal? Did they defect to the autobots? Would the autobots really accept them? Or do they go neutral?

But if they don't leave, how did they feel about Megatron leaving? In either of those scenarios, what is their relationship with the decepticons? The autobots? Where do they go after the war is over?

I just really like them a lot :D

Here comes Ironhold!

IDW Ironhold

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Mention of injury, Cybertronian reader

IDW/MTMTE

They were a young gladiator when they first met Megatron.

A big fan of Megatron’s work, both in the arena and his writings.

Megatron was a bit curious about the young bot who seemed to follow him almost anywhere they were allowed to go.

At first it was a bit annoying to have a second shadow.

But over time he got used to having them try and chat his audials off.

Megatron walks down the corridor. Rapid pedes steps are heard. The young bot starts calling his name. Megatron: “Yes… umm…” I-035: “I’m I-035, sir!” Megatron winces a bit at the word ‘sir’. He wasn’t that old… Megatron hums as he continues walking. I-035 follows closely behind him. I-035: “There is so much I want to talk to you about! Like how did you find the perfect moves to execute a bot? When did you learn? Do you have a teacher? Can you be my teacher!?” Random gladiator bot: “Will you shut it! I think you’d do us all a favor you miserably little—” The bot stops once Megatron’s glare landed on him. The bot grumbles as he purposely bumps into the younger bot. I-035 grumbles a bit at the shove, but quickly replaced by a smile looking at Megatron. Megatron gives them a faint smile as they continue their walk.

Constantly chatting about their upcoming fights and praising his signature death blows.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the younger bot was slowly growing on him.

The older mech even started helping them train.

Megatron found himself going to watch their fights, admittedly impressed and smiling when he saw them execute one of his moves with extreme precision.

He couldn’t feel any prouder of his pupil.

Sadly, their happy times came to an end when Megatron was sent to another arena.

It would be a couple of years before Megatron would reunite with them once again.

Megatron is walking through the crowd of bots at his recent gathering. He spots a familiar bot dragging someone to him. It was Deadlock. Deadlock: “Megatron! Megatron!” Megatron smiles at the new Decepticon. Deadlock: “I want you to meet a friend of mine.” I-035 stares wide optic at the larger grey mech. A smile starts forming. They take their servo out. I-035: “Megatron, long time no, see?” Megatron mirrors their smile and shakes it before noticing the badge on their chassis. Megatron: “I see you chose a side.” The glistening Decepticon insignia matches the light in their optics. I-035: “Just following an old mentors pedesteps, and hoping he might still have some things to teach me?” Megatron chuckles a bit. Megatron: “Maybe this old mentor wants the both of you in his inner circle.” Deadlock and I-035 look at each other in surprise. They look at each other, almost as if having a silent conversation before I-035 turns to the grey mech. I-035: “We’d be honored Megatron.”

It wouldn’t be long before Megatron would give them a ‘proper’ name.

Quickly, the name Ironhold became associated with the causes goal.

The old ones at least…

It would also be a couple of months before the war would have started.

To the Autobots, the name Ironhold was one of the most feared names on the battlefield.

They were infamously known for their efficiency of taking out bots and strongholds assigned to them.

It only made sense being one of Megatron’s most trusted Con’s.

To the Decepticons, it was a bit of a different story.

They were still known for their efficiency and work, but they were a good bot.

Ironhold often looked out for their fellow soldiers and ‘family’.

Throughout the years, they even earned the title as ‘Megatron’s Child’.

They were a bit embarrassed by this at first, but when Megatron soon calling them ‘his child’, they took in the title with stride.

There was no doubt that the two had grown closer, fighting alongside each other as one.

But as the war grew on, Ironhold started finding themselves getting closer with some of the other Con’s as Megatron’s fixation on Prime grew.

It would also be the time where they would begin to have their doubts about the meaning of the Decepticon cause.

It was Starscream who made them question certain things in the cause.

As much as they knew what kind of mech the Second in Command was, they still held some respect for him.

He wasn’t in that position for nothing.

And while his methods and tactics were… a bit much for Ironhold’s taste, they still respected him.

To Starscream, Ironhold was a puzzle.

How could some bot be efficient and ruthless in battle and still find it in their spark to trust and look after others?

He hated how they could be so kind and helpful to others.

This was war!

No one is supposed to be that kind!

Those kind of bots were the first ones to offline during the first DAYS of the war.

Ironhold mainly left Starscream to his own devices.

But Megatron started hurting him caught their attention.

Hurting him as punishment they understood, but not for no reason or on pseudo evidence.

Megatron launches Starscream across the room. The Seeker landing on his back. Megatron marches over and goes to punch him. The blow never came. Megatron looked to his side to see Ironhold barely holding his arm from harming the Seeker. Ironhold: “Megatron it was not him! The files were not his fault!” Starscream takes this moment to curl up closer to the wall, away from the two larger bots. Megatron: “Someone needs to pay! Or are you offering to take his place?” Ironhold: “What I’m saying is to get your helm out of your tailpipe and find some actual evidence! Not everything that goes wrong here is Starscream’s fault. We are bots who make mistakes from time to time.” Megatron sneers at them. They stand their ground. Their hold on his arm never falters. Ironhold: “Why don’t you go train or take it out on an Autobot if you still need to punch something?” Megatron roughly gets his arm from their grasp. Megatron: “This is the last time you do something like that again. Understood?” Ironhold: “Understood Megatron.” Megatron brushes past them and heads out the door. Ironhold slowly walks up to Starscream and offers him their servo. Starscream tries to get up by himself, but finds it a bit harder to do, so he does take their servo. The pair stands in silence. Starscream: “Some Decepticon you are.” Ironhold rolls their optics. Ironhold: “You’re welcome, Screamer. Let’s get you to the med bay.”

Soundwave was the mech who grounded them to the cause.

Working with Soundwave was a regular occurrence seeing that if Megatron was not involved with planning, it was them.

Soundwave didn’t mind Ironhold, finding them to be one of the only other good Con’s around that was still loyal to the cause.

This would naturally introduce them to the minicon’s.

Ironhold was one of the few Con’s that Soundwave trusted to keep them safe.

The minicons liked Ironhold enough to not cause too much trouble.

Soundwave enters the room. Ironhold has Rumble pinned with one servo to the wall while reading a data pad in the other. Frenzy was duct taped to the opposite wall. Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw were perched on a shelf. Ravage was on the berth stretching. Soundwave: “Ironhold. Explain.” Ironhold without looking up from their datapad: “I told Rumble I needed 3 minutes of quiet to read or else he would get sent to the wall.” Rumble: “I thought you meant like Frenzy!” Ironhold: “Ran out of tape. You had this coming Rumble.” Ironhold puts down the datapad and gently places Rumble back on the ground. Rumble: “You’re lucky I’m such a nice bot and not bringin’ out my pliers on your pedes!” Ironhold: “You won’t do that.” Rumble: “Really? And what makes you so sure?” Ironhold smirks at him. Ironhold: “You like me too much to do that.” Rumble starts stuttering and gets warm. Ironhold starts walking out the room. Soundwave: “You are responsible if he is broken.” Ironhold shrugs and begins to walk out the room. Soundwave telepathically: “Next time, you need to be more direct with Rumble. This horrible flirting is only going to give us all a helmache at the end of the day.” Ironhold feels their entire frame on fire. Soundwave telepathically: “Everyone knows Ironhold. Do not even attempt to deny it.” Ironhold telepathically: “…Please don’t tell Megatron.” Soundwave telepathically: “Try different tactics and we will see.” Ironhold telepathically: “Deal.”

Ironhold’s view on fighting started changing as the war dragged on for years.

Their fighting style changed as soon as they all arrived on Earth.

The Cons just thought it was their way of changing things up a bit, spicing up the old routine.

Ironhold just really didn’t want to hurt the humans.

They had nothing to do with their war, why drag them into it?

Soundwave and the mini’s had caught them saving couple of humans before, but never said anything about it.

Why would they?

It wasn’t like it was hindering Ironhold’s performance.

But they were not the only ones to stop the giant con getting humans to safety.

Many Bot including Optimus had seen Ironhold getting in danger for getting a few humans to safety.

It confused a lot of bots.

Ironhold never once thought of deserting the cause, much less defecting.

They would never betray their family like that… right?

It was a bad day.

Megatron had decided to go after a city of humans that were well away from their targeted area.

It raised a lot of warning signs for Ironhold.

This wasn’t a military advantage or their target, he was doing this for fun.

Ironhold tried to stop him, reminding him of their plans.

He didn’t listen as he rained fire on the city below.

Ironhold did their best to get as many humans to safety until the bots came.

Some of their fellow Cons tried to tell them to let it go, to let Megatron do what he does best.

Thankfully, the Bots do arrive on time.

Everything was getting too much.

The guilt was festering in their tanks seeing the human’s eyes filled with fear, anger, sadness, and so many more emotions.

They had to gently push some who were still in shock from the explosions and the fact that a Decepticon had saved them.

Was this how everyone looked at them?

They didn’t like it.

Ironhold spots Megatron aiming his fusion canon at an injured Autobot trying to shield some humans with his frame. Ironhold: “MEGATRON!” Ironhold pulls back his arm as the shot was fired upward. Megatron turned to them confused and enraged. Megatron: “Ironhold! What is the meaning of this!” Ironhold: “This isn’t even our target Megatron! We are nowhere near it! Why?!” Megatron gets his arm back. Ironhold: “We need to regroup if we are going to make it—” Megatron: “No.” Ironhold slowly realizes that this action was indeed because he wanted to. Ironhold: “These humans have done nothing for our war. Why drag them into it?” Megatron sneers at them. Megatron: “Is that insubordination my child.” Ironhold winced at the venom in their normally endearing nickname. Ironhold: “Megatron—” Megatron: “Speak again and I will terminate you myself.” Ironhold and the Autobot behind them optics widened. Ironhold stood in front of the Autobot and humans protectively. Ironhold: “If this is what the Decepticon’s stand for, I will not—” BANG! Ironhold’s frame fell on top of the Bot and humans limp, with a smoldering hole in their chassis. The battlefield had gone quiet. Megatron starts walking back from the limp frame. Megatron: “There is no use for traitors in my ranks.”

The Con’s follow their leader in shock.

Optimus and Ratchet race to the bot under Ironhold’s frame.

To their surprise, they were still online, barely managing to keep themselves from crushing the bot underneath them and the humans.

Ironhold looked at the Prime and bowed their helm.

Expecting death.

They did not expect him to tell the doctor to patch them up.

They were taken to their base where Ratchet could properly treat them before being taken into a different room for interrogation.

Ironhold half expected Prowl or Jazz to be in charge of this part.

They did not expect Optimus himself to come in.

No one heard what took place inside that room.

But after 3 days, Optimus had announced to the others that Ironhold would be joining their ranks.

This surprised a lot of bots.

Many simply refused to believe a Con as rotten as they were could never be an Autobot.

It was a rough transition.

Ironhold staying close to Optimus and Ratchet at all times before slowly integrating with the others.

They wanted nothing to do with the former Con and they did not blame them one bit.

Their saving grace came in the form of a familiar bot.

Ironhold is looking down while sitting in the corner refueling bit by bit. Smaller pedes come into their view. Ironhold: “If you are going to dump sludge on my helm again I—oh, it’s you.” It was the injured bot they had saved on that fateful day. He had a smile on his face. A kind one. It had been a while since they had gotten one of those. The bot sat down in the seat next to them holding his own cube of energon. Ironhold: “Don’t you have friends you’d rather sit with?” Hot Rod: “I was hoping you’d be one of them. I’m Hot Rod by the way.”

The conversation was a bit awkward at the beginning, mainly taking in the form of a friendly interegation before the bot left.

Ironhold was a bit surprised that the next day Hot Rod had returned to the same spot.

He even brought Bumblebee to chat with as well.

Slowly but surely ironhold started integrating into the ranks.

Ironhold knew that there were things they did that would forever stay in the minds of these bots… but they were grateful enough to call some their friends, dare they say family.

That word was a sacred one now.

The bot swore to only give the title to those worthy of it.

Truly worthy.

They made a mistake before they do not intend on doing it again.

It would be a while before Ironhold would return to the battlefield.

Mainly as a precautionary to the Cons and to the Bots getting used to them.

Thanks to some frame altercations, a fresh paintjob, and an energetic Hot Rod by their side, Ironhold soon began fighting for the Autobots.

Did it hurt to see the faces of their former ‘family’?

Yes.

Did it hurt to see that they did not recognize them?

Yes.

Did it hurt when they shielded their new friends from fusion blasts and fire?

Oh, most certainly.

On a happier note, Drift had also defected meaning they had one extra friend.

It took a lot of effort for them to start making amends, though it was mainly centered around trust.

As said before, as big and ruthless as Ironhold could get, they were still a good bot.

Timeskip after the war…

The war was over.

The Decepticons had lost.

Ironhold was at a lost.

For the first time in their life, they could stop fighting.

It felt… weird.

The sight of Cybertron made them sick to their tanks.

Too many painful wounds had been reopened.

Especially after what Megatron had done…

So, they did the next best thing, they were one of the first to sign up on Rodimus’s crew.

Ironhold is standing next to Rodimus on the bridge as the ship is starting to take off. Ironhold: “Engine’s are almost ready. I think you should take a seat Captain.” Rodimus makes a face at them. Rodimus: “Hold, what did we talk about titles?” Ironhold: “Its only out of respect Rodimus.” Rodimus: “Well, here’s an order, you can ONLY call me by my name.” Ironhold chuckles a bit. Ironhold: “Understood… Rodimus.” Rodimus: “That’s better. You know what ‘Hold, I don’t see this day possibly going wrong.” Ironhold gives him a serious look. Ironhold: “You shouldn’t say that Rodimus.” Rodimus: “And why?” Ironhold pinches their nose: “Because when someone does say that, something immediately goes wrong.” Rodimus: “You really believe in that—” BOOM! Cue the quantum engine fiasco. Ironhold accidentally falls on top of Rodimus due to the shaking. Ironhold: “I TOLD YOU!” Rodimus just wheezes as he tries to get off from underneath their giant frame.

[aestheticreservoire]

Not the person you are addressing but I feel like theres more to be said I don’t see in the replies to the post and that I think adds context to fan fiction and fandom in general especially after reading other women talk about the generalisation stuff in the OP

- a lot of women start reading fic as teenagers and a lot of current fic readers and writers are per se autistic and obsessed with whatever media they’re writing about ergo why they make stories about it obsessively. This is not a new phenomenon, women wrote Sherlock and Watson fan fiction back then with the books and the first mainstream fandom as we understand it today was Star Trek: the original series in the 70s. At that point it was in fact a sort of revolutionary separatist space as a lot of the people writing, and publishing, fanzines were female. Fanfic continues to be female skewed in fact. Males were also Star Trek fans it’s the derivative writing space that was and continues to be overwhelmingly female.

You probably dont care but if you want data points I started at age 13.

- I personally haven’t disengaged entirely but I know a lot of people do (and I took distance) because of the current heavy control exerted community wise due to the increasing politicisation of fandom after the 2000s onward. This is nothing new, again, a lot of the fujos who shipped Kirk and Spock in the 70s legit used that as leverage to support gay rights, it’s just that by virtue of members being younger and more immature and the insanity that was cultivated since livejournal, into here, and onward to twitter and TikTok fandom has become like a pug inbred version of itself.

- because the girls writing this are straight. It’s the same mindset of fujoshi writing doujinshi in Japan. Two attractive men kissing and thinking about romance without all the implications of being a woman and your lesser place in society because of it. And of course a lot of the media they obsess with glorifying and exhalting men while making mediocre or irrelevant female characters. Female essayists were actually writing about this in the Star Trek days too.

-No, not really. As I said a lot of women into this are already autistic or otherwise “weird” personality wise and that usually carries its own batch of associated mental illness, some thru nature some thru nurture (bullying, exclusion causing depression and anxiety) there’s actually an analysis of how this impacts geeks in general, socially, called the Geek Social Fallacies and you will see them repeat in ambiances like liberal feminism and activist teenagers on tiktok: https://plausiblydeniable.com/five-geek-social-fallacies/ which boils down to, I was excluded and left behind, ergo I vow when I meet other nerds I will never leave anyone behind because everyone who leaves me behind are evil bullies who hate me just because I like media.

This is also why I believe so many fandom spaces are social justice oriented. They too see minorities being excluded that they have to defend no matter the cost which is why analysis is so black and white, un-nuanced, and generally ignorant of whatever minority is being defended. Which I've personally experienced being latin american in the anglo fandom internet. In the end, I think I agree with a lot of other people that women are criticised a lot more for these fandom things than men are for things that are far more harmful, especially considering the history of these places as women-led hobbies that permitted a space separate from men. However I also agree it is a hobby and a lot of it is self-indulgent slop, and you should go in with that mindset. The cult mentality of hyper political fandom is also incredibly diseased and wreaks havoc on your already fragile mental state. Like any subculture it can be a wonderful thing for you to connect with people or controlling torture depending on how you engage with it. But as an autist I can't deny the catharsis of being able to do what is essentially glorified playing with fictional dolls without scorn, as that is something that you are judged for, very often unfairly- like most women's hobbies, to be honest.

I don't hate fan fiction because it's not original material or whatever. I hate fan fiction because it seems like everyone who is into it has serious mental health issues.

And I realize that it's a chicken/egg situation so there's no way to tell if being immersed in it tanks your wellbeing or if you get into it at your lowest point. What I do see is that it doesn't make you any better and definitely makes things way worse.

[trashrattt]

I totally think Code lyoko should have it's talked about reboot, mostly because

- when it came to Carthage, the most canon explanation from Franz himself, the explanation only lasts about 1 minute and 25 seconds, and nothing else comes of it

Sure, we knew why Xana was created, but like, Franz never really said Xana stopped it as it was his main intended purpose, why Xana was made to begin with, so like, that's a real issue in canon consitering Franz wanted to stop the project but never got to consitering Xana gained autonomy and all

And like, Carthage was kind of hinted at to be a bad thing too, you'd think that could be a real issue in universe

- spent 3 whole seasons building on this one character only not to do much with it at all and give him a really bad rep in universe afterwards

Okay, you know me, I like William an abnormal amount, but with all things considered, he wasn't a character to begin with, neither was a plot device imo

Yeah, he absolutely has no personality, argue with the wall if you need to

So like, yeah, he got posessed, but then what? Sure he was used to try to throw Aelita into the Digital sea, but like, tarantulas could do the same thing with those long ass arms, they could just use them as bats

And you've literally seen megatanks push her closer to the digital sea when she used a energy field as a sheild of sorts, so really, what was the point of him to begin with of other monsters could do the same thing no problem

And after a whole season of dawdling around, the writers rushed the whole "set him free" arc after ignoring it for basically the whole season, like there wasn't any episodes besides cold sweat where the characters actively try to break him free, you'd think there would be a little more give from the characters considering how #depressed Yumi was

(and yes, I know the show says, "I made ___ program" but let us see the FAILURE!!!!)

Even then, when he came back, the characters all decide "fuck this, you ain't shit to me" and dropkick him back to his life without any support, like dude lost months of his life without something he either remembers or blanked out on

- character writing in season four

Okay, this isn't really a reason why, it's more of saying "Why did you make your characters worse, we deserve better"

Because Odd in season four just became an absolutely terrible person, man

Constantly throwing his freinds under the bus just for some scheme he pulled or literally abusing the fact that he knows about Lyoko as a point to say to the others "This is why we're friends!!!1!@1!!" Even though at this point their friendship is downright terrible, like to the point where they just want to get Lyoko dealed with so they can fall apart like a poorly put together cup with scotch taped all over it

Imo nobody seemed to like each other as opposed to season 1 and 2 where they talked casually, like they had an actual friendship going on, not like "so, what's new on Lyoko, I want this shit dealt with today..." they were actual friends who did stuff together and had fun, I miss that :<

Anyways that was a more personal take, but season 4 just leaves a bad taste in my mouth with that rushed ending of theirs

Uhm oops, this was a long rant of what I dislike about the show, I was supposed to make this post simply to tell you guys what I'd propose for a continuation

Here's what I'd do:

Consitering Carthage was an abandoned idea from the depths of season 2, we build on that again

I'm imagining a non-terribly written Evo mixed with the chronicles, like bitch I actually love the idea of Ulrichs dad being tied in with Carthage simply because like, it would make so much sense (absolutely don't pull a chronicles though making EVREYONES mothers under the sun being tied in, that was stupid)

I'm also thinking, the antagonist we have is still a program, but it isn't Xana like in main series

Sure, they're simular, but it's a remnant from Carthage that has the same ideas as Xana, but worse (this is all first draft, but that's like the main idea that could work)

Also, give Will and actual personality this time, not just this "I'm soooooo sad" attitude that any traumatized character has, he has the potential to be COMPLEX!!!!

Kids cartoons nowadays are getting complex so don't say "Oh no they can't, it's a kids cartoon"

Anyways I'm hoping they build off of Carthage because that would be a PERFECT continuation aauaghh

Enjoy (?) My unexpected rant, idk

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: I don't know how often I'll post - shooting for a couple times a week (MWF). I'm trying to be quick caz I also hate waiting on the next part of what I'm reading. So I post as I write :) thanks for your support and patience!! Love you guys

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: angsty, explicit language, mentions of abuse/neglect, fear

WC: 3340

Chapter 4

“Minho… talk to me.” Chan insisted, coming down the stairs.

Minho plopped on the couch in the basement.

“What is it?”

Minho looked at his Alpha. 

Chan looked at him expectantly, making Minho groan.

“She’s my soulmate too.” he said, his voice barely audible.

Chan looked into his eyes, surprised. “You too?”

“At this point…it’s half the pack.” Minho threw his arms up as he fell back into the couch.

“So I guess this means you agree she should stay?” Chan smiled, his dimples showing as he poked at Minho playfully.

“Of course she’s staying. I’m not a monster.” Minho grumbled.

Chan looked at the stairs, hearing the doorbell.

“I hear Doc Quinn. She must be here to do a checkup.” Chan noted.

“This still doesn’t fix our problem. We can’t afford a fight against the Nyko pack.” Minho continued.

“I know. We will figure it out.” Chan said. 

Doctor Quinn, Felix, and you come down the stairs.

“Morning Chan. Morning Minho.” Doctor Quinn cheered.

“Morning.” Chan greeted warmly.

“Morning.” Minho mumbled, not bothering to turn around.

You three went into the med room.

“I’m going to eat.” Minho stood and jogged up the stairs to go get his plate.

Chan lingered a bit, hearing the conversation between you and Felix before he too went to get his breakfast.

“Y/n, I know it will take time, but I promise you, they are trustworthy. They will take care of you… the right way.” Doctor Quinn went on. “And I’m here for you too.”

You nod.

“Eat well, okay. And get plenty of rest. Soon you should feel normal. Or what normal should be.”

“Okay.” You say in a small voice, making her smile.

“I’ll ask you more questions next time. For now, just get acquainted with everyone.” She removed her gloves and gestured to the door. “You’re free.”

You looked at the open door, processing her words. Free. You were free? Tears filled your eyes and threatened to fall down your cheeks as you felt hopeful for the first time in a long time. You blinked back the tears, standing from the bed and stepping out of the room. Wanting some fresh air, you went out the double doors, inhaling the morning air as you fought back the tears. 

Could I truly be free?

“Hey…you okay?”

Your eyes pop open as you look at Felix standing before you. His brows were furrowed in worry. You nod but he doesn’t seem to believe you. But still, he doesn’t push you.

“How are you feeling? Tired? Hungry?” Felix questioned.

You shook your head.

“Do you want to watch tv or play some video games?”

You looked at him confused, never having done either of those things. 

“C’mon. We can pick something to watch together.”

Felix led you inside and upstairs. You noticed the kitchen was all clean, Minho putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. He looked up at you two and you were quick to look away. He clearly didn’t like you being here so you didn’t want to upset him further.

One of the boys was sitting on the couch watching tv already, remote in hand. He was also very handsome. His full cheeks and wavy hair drew you in, his smile was cute and contagious. 

His scent was different from Felix’s, which smelled of lavender and daisies, with a hint of eucalyptus. Han smelled like fresh cut grass and lemons, with a hint of gardenia. It was intoxicating and reminded you of a faint memory from your childhood - both their scents did. 

The memory was from one of the last days you had with your mother. You two had spent the day picking flowers in a field. There were all kinds of flowers and plants around you - daisies, lavender, roses, and gardenia. The gardenia smell was your favorite, but your mom loved the daisies. She said they were her favorite flower. Oh, how you missed her.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie?” Felix asked him.

“Sure. What movie?”

“I don’t know.” Felix sat down next to him, snatching the remote with a smile.

“Yah! Give it back.” He moved to get the remote back but Felix was too fast.

You jumped back at their interaction, not wanting to get in the crosshairs of their dispute. The two boys wrestled on the floor as Felix tried to keep hold of the remote. Minho suddenly walked into the room and towered over them with a glare. You shrunk against the window behind you, feeling his annoyance. They must have felt it too because they stopped and looked up at him.

“Best…behavior?” Minho spoke with gritted teeth.

“Sorry.” They mumbled in unison.

“We were just playing around.” Felix pouted.

“Pick a movie or go upstairs.” Minho left the room without even looking back at you.

“What’s got him so tense today?” Chubby cheeks asked.

Felix shrugged, noticing you standing by the window. “It’s okay. Come sit. This is Jisung.”

“Hi.” Jisung says with a smile and a wave.

You slowly come over and sit on the couch opposite of Jisung, Felix between you two. It was so comfy that you just sank right into it. Felix pulled up the movie list, throwing out some titles. You just shrugged, none of the titles sounding familiar. Eventually Felix decided on Harry Potter. 

“A classic,” he called it.

You only managed forty minutes of the movie before falling asleep on the couch next to them. At first they didn’t notice, but when Chan came into the kitchen and asked where you were, they looked over to see you laying down asleep.

Chan came over, not seeing you laying there from the kitchen, and smiled down at you. He grabbed a blanket from the basket at the edge of the fireplace and draped it over you. Felix and Jisung changed the channel to some soft music and headed upstairs so as not to disturb you. Chan went into his office to do some work, but not before pulling out his phone and taking a picture of you. You were too cute to resist.

“Well she’s definitely not dead…” Milo states.

They had searched all through the forest for your body.

“No shit. Obviously she got away. If she’s with the neighboring packs, Lewis is going to be furious.” Hayes runs his fingers through his hair.

“Wouldn’t the packs just give her back? We have agreements with them.”

“Did the cobalt get to your head or are you always this stupid.” 

Milo glares.

“The Greenridge pack is full of weak hybrids. They would probably nurse her back to health and hope she makes them stronger. The Okami pack fear us enough they probably would actually give her back to avoid issues.”

“So if she’s not dead, she’s with Greenridge.”

“Or Okami. Or Honshu. Omegas make hybrids do dumb things. You of all people should know this.”

“YAH! I was having fun. Same as you.”

“You crossed a line. I should have said no to the cobalt. Then she wouldn’t have gotten so disorientated and stepped off course.”

“I’m happy she did. Maybe she passed the cobalt along to the ones who tried to heal her and they got poisoned too.”

“I swear you get stupider everyday.” Hayes says.

Before Milo can pounce on his brother, the phone rings.

“Dammit. Don’t say a word.” Hayes says, answering the call. “Hey Lewis. How’s Montana and the Harlow pack?”

“They are good. We made a deal last night. I need you two to make sure the omegas are cleaned up, fed and not injured for the next few days. They need to be in their best shape. Especially my little y/n.”

“Why?”

“The Harlow pack has agreed to become our allies. Their support and numbers in exchange for an omega. Y/n is the weakest link so she should be a good one to pawn. So make sure she looks the best.”

“Okay. Yep, got it.” Hayes glared at Milo who was eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Everything alright there?”

“Everything’s great. Couldn’t be better.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I gotta go, the maids are just pulling up.”

“Okay. Have them give the omegas a little extra food.” 

“Will do.”

Hayes hung up. “We are so screwed.”

It was nearly two hours later when you began to wake. Blinking your eyes open, you noticed a figure sitting next to you. You pop up, pushing back into the couch cushions.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” he said in a sultry voice. 

This man was beautiful. Toned arms flexed as he adjusted how he was sitting so he could face you. His black hair was slightly wavy, his dark eyes fixed on you. He gave a small smile as you made eye contact and you swallowed, noticing the beauty mark he had under his eye. He was just staring at you like you were something to eat.

“I’m Hyunjin.” He smiled bigger.

“Y/n…” you whispered, looking down in your lap.

His eyes widened, not expecting you to talk since everyone said you didn’t. But he was quick to clear his throat, jumping for joy on the inside. “Nice to officially meet you.”

With that he stood, but hesitated, staring at you for a few moments before finally walking off. You watched after him, confused, but grateful for the space. Looking around the room, you didn’t see anyone. The tv was playing music and you wondered how long you had been asleep. 

You stood, walking down a hallway. There were pictures on the walls of the boys. A couple group ones, some in pairs. You smiled how much they clearly loved and cared for each other, wondering if that would ever be you. There was a cutout in the wall displaying a vase with fake Calla Lilies in it at the end of the hall. Turning you see two french doors. Approaching, you look behind you before continuing.

Upon opening the door, you step in and see an oversized desk with a computer on it. One wall is full of built-in bookcases, the other having floor to ceiling windows. There were two chairs facing the desk, a person sitting down in one. He was quick to turn around, staring at you.

The chair behind the desk spun around and revealed Chan on the phone. You should have knocked…or not been exploring at all. This wasn’t your house. 

You began to slowly back away, but Chan was quick to gesture you forward. You look back to the other person, realizing he also had an alpha scent. This slim cutie was the third alpha in this pack. He brushed his hair from his eyes, forcing a smile at you. You didn’t realize earlier how pretty his eyes were. Or how cute his smile was with his dimples.

You looked down, wanting to run far away. Why was everyone in this pack so unbelievably attractive?

Chan finished up his conversation, before smiling at you.

“How was your nap?”

You hesitated before deciding to speak. “Good.”

Chan’s eyes lit up, taken aback by your verbal answer, and smiled even bigger. Wow those dimples. “That’s great.”

He stood up, making the other alpha stand as well. You stiffened, instinctively stepping back.

“It’s alright. This is Jeongin. He is the youngest here and our newly presented alpha. So you’ll have to excuse him if he gets a bit uptight.” Chan says, resting a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder.

“I’m not uptight.” He groans, pushing his hand off.

Chan just laughs. “I have to go discuss some things with another pack. I’ll probably be gone the rest of the day. So if you need something, just ask anybody in the pack, okay?” 

You nod.

“Innie, would you like the honors of showing her to her room?” Chan asked.

You look up at him incredulously. 

“Sure.” Jeongin says.

“Room?” you echoed.

“Yes. You will have your own space. That way you can nest how you like. And you can personalize it however you want. If you don’t like the wall colors, we can change it. Want new furniture? We will replace it. Whatever you need for your nest, we can get, okay?”

You blink in disbelief, speechless. You didn’t know what he meant by nest but you didn’t say anything.

“Ready?” Jeongin asked, interrupting your thoughts.

You nod.

“See you later.” Chan smiled.

Jeongin led you back down the hall and upstairs. This was your first time up here and it was massive. There was a bit of loft space where a lot of junk as well as clothes were piled up.

“Laundry mess.” Jeongin noted. “This way.”

Jeongin led you down a hallway to the left and you saw a couple doors in the hallway. One of the doors had loud noises coming from behind it as well as two people arguing. You think one of them is Felix….if you can recognize his husky voice by now.

“They get too into their video games.” Jeongin said with an eyeroll.

You heard a door open and close behind you. Turning to see who it was, you saw the slim, gorgeous man from earlier. Starts with an H but you can’t remember.

“Innie… what are you doing?” he asked.

“Showing her to her room.” Jeongin answered.

“I think you’ll like it, y/n. It gets a lot of natural light and has calming colors in it. But if you want help painting it, I can help you.”

“Y/n? That’s your name?” Jeongin asked.

You nodded.

“How come you told Hyunjin first?” Jeongin pouted.

Hyunjin. That’s his name. 

“Because I’m special.” Hyunjin gloated.

You were quick to shake your head in defense. “No, I-”

You didn’t know what to say. He just happened to be there when you decided to start talking. It wasn’t favoritism.

“It’s fine. I see how it is.” Jeongin opened the last door on the left and walked in.

Your shoulders dropped, your feet not moving.

“He was just teasing. He’s not mad.” Hyunjin assured.

“Oh, I was only kidding y/n. Don’t be sad.” Jeongin was quick to come back to your side.

“We joke around and are sarcastic a lot. Don’t take us too seriously.” Hyunjin offered a smile.

You look to the room and begin to step inside. It was spacious and nicely decorated with neutral tones. The wood accent wall and ceiling were a soft tone, white sheets brightening up the room. Hyunjin was right, the windows let in tons of light. You had a spacious closet although it was empty right now since the only clothes you owned were shredded in the forest. You didn’t even know where they were but wouldn’t be surprised if they were thrown out.

“And over here is your bathroom. It’s a private bath, so you won’t have to share it with anyone.” Jeongin informed.

Walking into the bathroom, you were stunned. It was so clean and…and gorgeous. Worn shiplap walls, white tile in the shower and a vanity sink. This bathroom was a major upgrade from your hole in the floor of the cell.

“You like? Hopefully it’s not too much.” Jeongin’s brows furrowed in worry.

“It’s probably too much.” Hyunjin deadpanned, earning a glare from Jeongin.

“It’s….gorgeous.” You say.

“See, she likes it.” Jeongin pushed Hyunjin out the doorway as you all exited the bathroom.

“I’m hungry. Would you like something to eat, y/n” Hyunjin asked.

Eyes wide, you nod eagerly and they both giggle at you.

“Come on. We can make something to eat.”

“When you ever need space, you can come here. Okay?” Jeongin said.

You nod before following Hyunjin to the kitchen.

Hyunjin had made you both some ramen, yours less spicy as it was your first time. It was so yummy, you ate the whole bowl. He offered you more food, but you were full, your body not used to big meals. Jisung and Felix had come down to eat too, and asked if you wanted to finish the movie. You agreed and spent the rest of the afternoon watching the first two Harry Potter movies. 

Felix explained things as they happened, making sure you were understanding the world and what was going on. You felt yourself relaxing for the first time. You enjoyed the movies and got really invested in the story. Felix was happy you liked the movies, even running upstairs to get his computer and make you take the official test and get your house. (Just use whatever house you would like if you’re into Harry Potter)

After, Minho pulled Felix to help with dinner. The thought of eating again was daunting, you were still so full from your late lunch. Eating this much in one day was new to you but you didn’t want to be rude. 

Seungmin and Changbin came downstairs and joined you and Jisung on the couch. Jisung was watching an anime but you weren’t really paying attention. Instead you were staring at the two boys talking about the show with him. You didn’t realize earlier just how buff Changbin was. He was probably three times your size with his broad shoulders. It was a bit scary honestly…. The damage he could do if he treated you like the Nykos. Thankfully Hayes and Milo weren’t this buff. He then laughed about something and it was a really cute laugh. It made him seem softer and you found yourself smiling at it. 

Seungmin was also so, so attractive. You stared as he brushed the hair from his eyes and pointed at the screen. He rambled about something that was happening, but you just watched the way his lips moved as he spoke. His skin looked so soft - not that everyone else’s didn’t - but you wondered how it would feel under your fingers. He looked over at you and caught you staring, smiling back at you. You blushed, looking over at the tv.

“Dinner’s ready.” Minho called out after nearly an hour.

Everyone scrambled up and hurried into the kitchen. You watched from the couch as everyone grabbed their plates and filled them with food. You looked at Minho, watching as he swung the kitchen towel over his shoulder before kissing Jisung on the cheek and moving out of his way. You found yourself wishing he would do that to you, his lips looking so kissable. His pointy nose was so cute you wanted to kiss it too. He was insanely attractive and you felt such a pull to him. You wanted to trust him, to lean over and touch him. All of them. You wanted to fit in and belong in a pack so badly. Especially after seeing the way they all belong together.

The chemistry they all had was undeniable. It’s like they had spent their whole lives together. You wondered how they came together. How they managed to not get overthrown by Alpha Lewis.

“Not going to eat?” It was Minho. 

He was standing right in front of you. You were too in your thoughts watching everyone you didn’t notice him approach. Now he was actually talking to you. Doesn’t he hate you?

He came around the couch and reached for your hand. “Come on. You need to eat.” 

He wrapped his fingers around your hand before you could pull away and gently tugged. You stood, letting him lead you into the kitchen. The others stopped and stared, making you look down. You weren’t going to go against what the Alpha wanted so you let him hold your hand as he grabbed a plate for you. 

Everyone else resumed what they were doing and moved to the dining table. Seungmin put some food on the plate Minho held for you - smaller portions since he knows you can’t eat much - and then Minho led you to the table. He sat you on the end next to the head chair where he had his plate.

“Enjoy.” He said to you, a ghost of a smile just barely touching his lips before he began to eat.

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @bowsnbang

Shout out to my beta for inspiring, motivating, and pushing me! @its-the-solar-system

[heartfeltcherie]

hi!!! can i start off by saying your writing is absolutely delicious. call me Ursula the way im finna steal your talent 😭

if this isn’t much of a bother, can i request husk x dog! reader? you can absolutely ignore this if it isn’t your cup of tea I won’t be offended 💥 💥

catch ya later!!!! (yes im a splatoon fan 😁)

CAT & DOG ᡣ𐭩

❀ summary; what it would be like to date husk as a sinner who is a dog !

❀ what to lookout for; use of petnames, lovey dovey stuff, slight suggestiveness at the end.

❀ extra notes; i'm so excited to post my first ever husk performance ! i hope you all enjoy !

- to start things off, you have floppy ears. like lady from lady and the tramp, just because i think she’s so cute.

- and husk absolutely LOVES playing with them because he loves how shy and flustered you tend to get.

- because he just stands there, behind the bar, with a smirk on his face as he fidgets with them between his fingers.

“husk, everyone is gonna stare at us”

“let ‘em, doll. can’t help that they’re so fuckin’ soft” husk continues fidgeting with your ears, leaning closer over the bar until your noses are almost touching. “‘sides, i know you like when i do this”

you let out a content hum. “can’t disagree with that”

- at first, everyone thought it was odd that a cat and dog sinner were together. except for charlie, she was the most supportive of you both and would not stop gushing to your faces about how cute she thought you both were. and to everyone else, for that matter.

- but then everyone realized that it was literally hell and stranger things have happened.

- you’re most definitely the only one husk lets touch his wings or fur.

- you know how sensitive his wings are so you’re always super careful.

- when he’s done working the bar for the day/night and he comes to lay in bed, you immediately start combing your fingers through his fur and you feel honoured to be the only one to hear him purr.

“right there, baby… mm, yeah… that’s the spot” husk is laying on his tummy as your fingers gently comb through his fur. you chuckle softly at him.

“y’know, for a grouchy bartender, you’re acting pretty soft and cute right now” you playfully joke at him. he hums, chuckling with you.

“maybe it’s because of the cute pup sitting next to me in my bed” and he looks up at you with a smirk on his face because he KNOWS that nickname makes you blush.

- oh yeah, husk calls you “pup”

- mainly when you’re alone. when you’re in public it’s the regular pet names.

- “baby,” “doll,” “sweetheart” etc.

- much like alastor, you tend to keep your tail hidden because you find it quite annoying.

- but when you and husk are alone, you let him play with it all he wants. tugging on it (gently), squeezing it.

- on the occasion, he’ll squeeze your tail in secret when you’re in the lobby, just because he loves seeing you get all riled up.

- he thinks it’s cute. and a little hot. okay, maybe, a lot hot.

- you definitely tell him that if he needs a dog, you can bark.

“this is the millionth time you’ve said this, babe…” husk grumbles and you laugh loudly.

“what can i say, i’ve got that dog in me” husk rolls his eyes at your silly statement.

“technically, wouldn’t you have that cat in you, doll face?” angel dust pipes up from his spot on the couch, a smirk on his face as you turn pink. husk looks at you with the same smirk as angel.

“now that’s more like it…”

❀ word count; 529

reblogs/hearts/comments and all that good stuff are appreciated !

audience; @crystalrayn @drxgonspine @alastorthirsty @speedycoffeedelight @alaskathestereodemoness

© heartfeltcherie

[last-flight-of-fancy]

ah, you're right! it was a bit erroneous of me to say riku has no star imagery around him XD he does! (the above example, the ending of kh2 where he and sora become shooting stars themselves as they leave the RoD, his parallels to the nameless star, and if Necklace Theory true- which i beleive it is- very much that as well).

oops the riku-kairi parallels in my brain are cooking again pls hold-

much like many things around riku and his journey this imagery isn't really as blatant as it is with kairi's. in kh1 he kind coat-tails around it via the paopu ("You wanted one, didn't you?") using kairi's more overt imagery to hide his own (yknow. like the way also does with his feelings).

as usual CoM is the gift that keeps on giving here, the game that laid the stonework for a shocking amount of the rest of the series, and wrt this post in particular, also lays the first seeds of switching riku and kairi's narrative's in relation to sora.

I specify in relation to sora bc, as noted by the above, kairi represents stasis and safety, while riku represents change and uncertainty. in the beginning sora leans more towards Kairi, a natural inclination of youth towards the familiar and secure. as time goes on however we see that relationship grow distant, then awkward as it begins to chafe, the things long thought to be true feeling different under the clarity of maturity, and then comfortable again as he reaches the moment many of us do when we realise that the past isn't coming back, but maybe that's okay. We can love what it was while we continue to move onward in our lives.

to go back a bit to step two of that journey, as sora goes through CoM the safety of that familiarity is challenged. kairi is not kairi, his memories and feelings are gaslit by others into something they're not for the sake of someone elses feelings (in b4 someone thinks im calling namine evil or something, i am not. she was in a situation equally as shitty as sora's and doing her best with what little she had to work with. i love her. okay? okay). sora may not consciously remember any of this, but i do think those impressions left lasting impact that hastened his realisation that home... might not really be home anymore. again things oft familiar to the queer experiance- but more to the point of this post is the Star Charm

the star charm (a paopu; symbol of connection everlasting), overlayed on kairi's seashell charm (a charm to help sailors find their way home), implied to be an entirely different charm (a necklace) that sora has kept with him since childhood, given to him on the night of a meteor shower (falling stars)-

... okay so necklace theory hasn't been outright confirmed, but i've yet to hear any other explanation that actually makes sense so forgive me if i act like it is.

point is that yes, riku definitely has his own connection to star imagery, but the way it's used is a lot more subtle, and often connected to/hidden by kairi's more visually obvious ones, and it's only been with more recent installments that this has become more apparent.

... which is of course something of a pattern in the series tbh, the assumption of one thing, the long play of hints and clue's suggesting otherwise, and then the Reveal that pulls it all together. mmmmm coming of age story centered around themes of comphet and being Othered/denied personhood my Beloved

this is all real deep in the analysis weeds by this point, and i'd hesitate to say that ALL of it was intentional (not as a dig at the writers, just that i'm well aware of how difficult it must be to write something so symbolically dense over such a long time), but i'd definitely be willing to beleive at least some of it was, maybe even most of it. and oughghghghg i love it. i love this series. few things make me dig into the meat of what makes it tick like this does.

Started thinking about Riku-Kairi parallels and symbolism wrt the ending of kh2 so please hold while i get needlessly verbose about it-

specifically it started with this gif

and ofc adhd is as adhd does and started going down the rabbit hole of connecting the dots.

The act of reaching out a hand/hand holding is a recurring thing in kh, the vast majority of which is chock full of meaning and symbolism, and this is no exception. This is the culmination of The Hero's Journey part of Sora's tale, the return home, and the heartfelt reunion between long-seperated friends. fun fact the heroine's journey follows the hero's journey for the first third or so before continuing on. kinda like how kh continued on long after things seemed to be 'resolved'. weekly plug to look up Howler's Heroine's Journey essays if you haven't yet

The angle from which I am viewing this scene right now is in regards to ofc Riku, and his own iconic pose that we see the first time in the intro to kh1 (and many, many times since)

And this is where my riku-kairi-are-inverted-parallels-to-each-other brain starts barking like a dog because oughghghghggh same pose opposite side completely different body language- AHG.

And this matches their character arcs (as well as their respective combined arcs with sora) to a T as well. Riku's pose is the first we see, way back in kh1, and his hand is as much a taunt as it is an offer. Very befitting his relationship to sora in that game, which was coloured by a forged rivalry and intense jealousy (to quote the ultimania; Complicated Feelings) of/for sora.

(it is also notable that to date this gesture has yet to be resolved. the closest they've gotten is when sora grasped Riku's hand in kh2 on finding him- albeit in Ansem's visage.

Symbolically this is Sora attempting to accept the gesture, but this time it is Riku who fails to meet him halfway, too deep in guilt and regret to feel worthy of it. his hand is turned downwards, limp and unresisting.

And again in DDD when Riku grabs sora's hand/wrist in an attempt to wake him from his nightmares, but this time sora isn't capable of reciprocating. like two ships passing in the night, always reaching but never quite meeting)

(this one isn't quite as strong in the visual symbolism specific to the Riku Pose, but i did think it bore mentioning)

to return to the first gif however, for Kairi her posture is much less stiff, leaning forward with palpable releif at Sora's return. Honestly the fact that she holds out her left hand (which as far as i know is not her dominant hand) marks this as a very deliberate choice to parallel her as opposite to riku. and much like the rest of kh2's ending, it FEELS like a culmination, a completion of their arcs.... and most certainly isnt.

Which i mean to say, it's a mid-point. And the reason I say this is because of one little thing.

The seashell charm.

There's a sort of irony here in that the charm that was meant to reunite them in this moment is also symbolically like a wedge between them. A heartfelt and meaningful gesture, don't get me wrong! i love this scene and the genuine emotions within, but i do love chewing on the way this gains a slightly different meaning in the greater context of later story beats; specifically that of kh3.

With how pointed and direct the parallel is between kairi and riku in these scenes, it did make me pause for a moment thinking about kh3. i know we've all seen a thousand and one analysis' of the paopu scene at this point, but forgive me as i must do so again under this specific lens.

'how does the paopu scene relate to the hand extended gesture at all?' i hear you ask, and on the visual surface not much. it has more to do with sora and kairi's relationship arc through the games and, of course, the lingering loose thread that was the cave drawing.

The paopu scene is a touching recreation of that cave drawing, one enacted by a pair of kids who didn't know if they would live to see another sunset. It's also probably the most symbollically dense thing in all of kh and that is saying something so I'm going to try and keep my observations limited to just what is relevant to this post- and that would be the way that the paopu scene is a direct continuation of Kairi's 'you're home' gesture in kh2.

shooting stars are also a common recurring symbol in kh, and that's the symbol that ties these two scene's together. if kh1 is two disparate stars each trying to reach the other (the cave drawing, the seashell charm, the way their hands are seperated at the end of kh1), and the end of kh2 is that of the stars finally meeting (the single seashell star charm pressed between their palms), then the paopu scene is that of the stars passing each other by and beginning their own journey's anew (two stars held by crossed arms, each now holding a small piece of the other (bitten fruit) to show that their meeting may have been brief but it was meaningful)

it is in this way that kh3 quietly and tenderly closes out sora and kairi's combined arc, as two unlikely friends who then drift apart again, shining brightly for the shared experiance, Remind mostly serves to support that finality, tying up the last couple loose ends between them, and leaving the two far more comfortable with each other than they ever were while that arc was still ongoing (which i read as them no longer being uncertain as to what their relationship is; that of friends, and not whatever so many others around them had pushed and assumed)

(seriously look at how much more comfortable they are with each other the second the pressure to be something they're not is off. the awkwardness is completely gone i love it)

All of this is ofc still in parallel to Riku, who boasts no such star imagery (instead he has the iconic Heart of KH itself), and in fact while he symbollically continues to reach out to sora, physically he has completely refrained from doing so at all- in fact most examples of the Gesture in kh are deliberately invoked by other characters in order to bring riku to mind in some way (and often more for the players benifit than sora's)

axel in CoM,

(i have given up on tumblr gif search)

YMX in DDD,

which then immidiately cuts to riku in kh1 just to make it as blatant as possible that yes the reference is intentional (i guess CoM was too subtle somehow so they had to make sure this time)

and even Riku himself to Namine at the end of kh3, representing Repliku's final wishes in a funny sort of symbolism oroboros.)

and it's not a coincidence that the completion of that connection provides definitive closure to the arcs in question; that of namine to repliku, but also a little bit to riku himself. namine still has a role to play, but that role (i think) is more or less exclusive to her relationship with sora. namine and riku's relationship arc, background as it is, is complete, and now both are connected primarily through their incomplete arcs with sora.

(which makes the way that sora and kairi's example in kh2 is a complete outlier really interesting tbh. smth smth thinking your relationship is one thing and if it was that thing then yes that would have been the end, but it wasn't that thing and thus it wasn't the end smth smth comphet metaphor smth)

which brings us back to how riku himself hasn't really reached out to sora directly since kh1, the act that set off both of their journey's. The reasons for that are many- guilt, fear, a certainty that sora will not reach back and that he doesn't deserve it anyway- but despite that the Gesture is still subtly affirmed as being Riku's over and over again, never quite letting the audience forget it... because eventually this bit of symbolism so consistently portrayed throughout the series will reach its own conclusion, starting how it began with one deuteragonist reaching out to the other, and this time the other reaching back to complete the gesture.

[gingermintpepper]

"I wanted, more than anything, to make you proud." No longer does his son bend his head. He meets him in his eyes - richest brown to clearest blue. Zeus cannot help but search for that little toddling thing that once sough refuge at his knees. When did Ares grow so large? When did his shoulders get so broad? "Why can't you just be proud of me?" What is it that Phoebus always says? That children can tell their parents have favourites even when they themselves don't know? It almost brings a smile to his face. How alike they both are, even now. Mirrors, the two of them, and they don't even know it. "What good would my pride do you now, Ares?" Ares recoils as though he's been struck. As ever, it is the wrong thing to say. Maybe there's never been a right thing to say. Or maybe the both of them are fools. Caught up in this perpetual dog-and-horse show; the son who wants his father's approval and the father who does not know what that means. All the wisdom in the cosmos can't give him that knowledge. "...Good talk, Father. Truly." That blood-red hair is a windswept flag as Ares leaves. Zeus swears it had been only up to his nape when they'd started speaking. The door slams shut, it rattles all his charts and maps, the vases with Hera's flowers sat pretty on his table. Then, there is silence. Then, there is regret. Well, Metis, look what a mess he's made now.

[narugen-moved]

hoshimina beach date….. please let them rest 😭🙏

(related art)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hold on ok i belted out a brief laughingstock Scene for possible future use that i Had to write down bc if i didn't, i'd never remember it. and why not share?

~

“Barnaby? Barnaby, old chap, are you with me?” 

Barnaby blinks, registering the green fingers snapping in front of his nose. He huffs a laugh and pushes Howdy’s hand away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. You were saying?”

Howdy gives him an exasperated look, a fond look. “Thinking about running off to a farm again, were you?”

“Nah, just the clouds. They’re a lot less work.”

“Well I’d rather you didn’t. Who would I talk to during the long hours if you went and floated off?” Howdy winks before turning to his shelves, already yammering away about something or other.

Something or other that Barnaby is once again not listening to, because what was that? Barnaby quickly presses his cool paw-pads to his burning cheeks, feeling the bristling fur there. 

Has Howdy ever winked at him? Now that he’s noticed it, Barnaby can’t recall. If it’s new, then why? Why a wink of all things? What did that mean? And that look Howdy gave him… 

Barnaby adjusts his abruptly too-tight tie. It’s unusually warm in the store, isn’t it? Howdy must have forgotten to turn on the AC. 

Gosh, what is Howdy even saying? He’s still talking, but Barnaby hasn’t absorbed a word. He can’t even tell if Howdy is still speaking english. It’s all garbled.

There’s something wrong with Barnaby. He must be coming down with something… or he’s just overthinking it. Overworking the ol’ noggin. A good long nap should set him right. 

“Listen,” Barnaby interrupts, patting the counter, “I uh, I don’t know where my head’s at. I better go find it - I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Oh… alright, then,” Howdy says, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. 

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Barnaby slaps that thought out of the park. He doesn’t want Howdy to be disappointed, that’s absurd. That’s something a bad friend would think. Barnaby may be many things, but a bad friend isn’t one of them.

“I’ll whip up a joke that’ll knock your socks off next time I see ya,” Barnaby promises. He smiles around the discomfort and the entirely new feeling squirming around each other in his chest. 

“Now you’ve gone and brought up my expectations,” Howdy says. He leans on the counter and grins. “Are you sure you can back up such a claim, Mr. Beagle?”

Another hot flush races under Barnaby’s fur, and to his growing mortification, his tail starts wagging at breakneck speed. He lets out an uncharacteristically nervous laugh and backs away from the counter. To both of their horror, his back hits a shelf, making it rattle and tip.

“Oh, sh-” Barnaby lunges to right it before it can topple. He whips around and laughs again. Howdy’s wide-eyed stare burns. “Sorry ‘bout that! Talk about a bulldog in a bugshop, geez.”

“When you find your head, make sure to screw it on nice and tight,” Howdy says, a strange look on his face to match his tone. “And check your temperature while you’re at it - it’s not like you to be off-balance.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m off-balance,” Barnaby says. He inches towards the door, willing his stupid tail to calm down. “I just have ears instead of rearview mirrors.”

“Uh-huh…” Howdy slides to the side, trying to peer around him. 

Barnaby fumbles for the door. The scrape and bang of his search for the handle echoes in the quiet store. One of Howdy’s eyebrows creeps higher the longer Barnaby stands there, making a complete fool of himself. 

Finally, the door clicks, and Barnaby nearly tumbles over backwards in his haste to get out. He stumbles down the steps and briskly walks away, adjusting his hat and tie. As soon as he’s out of sight, he slaps his paws to his face and sags against the bodega.

“Idiot,” he hisses to himself. He presses his back flat against the wall and slams the side of his fist against it. Normally, Barnaby would use a situation like this to his advantage. But Howdy wasn’t laughing, and Barnaby wasn’t being funny. “Bulldog in a - gah, idiot!”

Great. Now Howdy thinks he’s not only a clumsy oaf, but that he’s losing his touch too.

Barnaby growls in frustration, pushing off the wall and stomping away from the plaza on all fours. What does he care what Howdy thinks of him? Others’ opinions of Barnaby have never been anywhere near his list of top priorities - barring Wally’s, of course. If they were, he'd never tell another joke again.

Yes, Howdy is a good friend of Barnaby’s. A close friend, even. But since when has he had such a - such an effect? Barnaby shakes his head, growling again. 

There was no effect. Barnaby is just going insane. Or he’s getting sick, like Howdy implied. That would explain the sudden hot flash, the loss of typically impeccable coordination, and, oh yeah! Barnaby’s brain leaking out of his ears.  

[thefrogdalorian]

Having of those moments where I wish to yeet the like button into the sun or maybe make it so there was setting you could turn on so that people can only reblog posts (even better with the minimum requirement of adding at least one tag)!!

It's kind of absurd that one of my fics is getting close to 500 notes while simultaneously being one I've had the least actual human interactions come from. Like...... come on, that's now how it should be AT ALL!

Don't get me wrong, I'm so thrilled people are clearly finding it and I guess enjoying it(??) but just having endless likes without people letting me know what they enjoyed about it or even if they liked it kind of makes me sad. That's not why I want to share my writing here!

I love having those little human connections with others. I don't ever want my writing to feel transactional. I would love to talk to more people about things I've written. It's truly one of the best feelings and I would hate to lose that, the more I write or the more notes my fics get. Please don't be shy!! I get the social anxiety, but there is no reason to be. I am truly just a Din Djarin obsessed loser.

Anyway, whine over. I don't want to focus on the negatives here and I appreciate every single person who has ever left a positive interaction with something I've written. You are truly a light!

[takeyourcyanide]

posting isn’t giving me any sort of sense of familiarity or stability in the foundation which makes sense given that everything has been replaced yet again but damn

[lady-shadow-and-darkness]

Is your smut really smut if one or all of them aren't bleeding or crying or sweating, haven't been bitten, don't have bruises, and- I lied it's not an "or" it's an "and" and they're all necessary