#i've had to learn to be right-handed for plenty of things though and it has changed me lol

[uncanny-tranny]

The fun thing about being left-handed but a right-handed crocheter is learning how to better be ambidextrous... like I feel like I'm learning forbidden knowledge

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Just wanted to say I LOVE your work! Especially with the inclusion of a black reader/character 😭🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

This is a personal lil thought of mine, BUT

John Price wouldn’t say he was dating a black woman, but there would be signs. Even though his style would be fine beforehand, He’d be dressing nicer, his hair and beard would always be well groomed and overall put together.

I think Gaz would be the first to peep something different from his Captain cuz he recognizes the work of his own people lol

And you're right because suddenly this man's beard is lined up too nicely and that damn hat is gone. Check it below the cut love.

Rating: gen audience

It all started a few months ago with a simple, "Hey Captain?" Johnny says, "Nice cologne, the hens in the media bay can't stop talking about it."

Price only shrugged, not really paying attention, "Just trying something new."

Kyle agrees, it's new, and he thinks it fits his Captain nicely.

Then, things escalate from that one-off comment.

Kyle is perplexed. Confused. Genuinely thrown for a loop because why is his Captain sporting a tapered fade that connects tastefully to his beard? With the side burns fading into the connect?

Kyle just shruggs it off as someone at his boss' super cuts trying and talking him into something new.

Only the new hair style stays and there are plenty of women and men staring at him with lust filled eyes.

The next thing Kyle noticed was the glittering shine of a simple gold chain around John's neck. It's thin, and within regulations, the clasps are too small for his co's large hands to actually put on. Kyle peeps the little gold cross that's just dangling there when he leans over the desk to point out things in their mission dockets. Hm when did he find religion? It's not really his business.

Okay what the actual fuck? Kyle is wondering where John heard the phrase "Do I look like Boo Boo the fool" to be able to understand that he needs to not answer that question with anything other than "no ma'am". They are working with another task force that's headed by an older black woman who's a force to be reckoned with. But that's beside the point because, since when did he learn that and whom did he learn it from?

John Price isn't one to actually keep up with eating lunch at work. Kyle remembers having to drag and threaten and get Simon and Soap to help him get their leader to at least try and eat lunch and not work through it. Nowadays? This man brings in lunch, and it's not what you expect. What Kyle is expecting, well...he's not really sure what he is expecting, but seeing this man eat a fried plantain sends him.

It all comes to a head when the four of them are leaving a debrief. They are shipping out at the start of next week. Set to be gone for like maybe a few months. Johnny is begging asking for them all to go out for lunch and Price only raises an eyebrow.

"Can't today Soap." Price says as they exit the office building. His eyes scan the parking lot, and a smile breaks onto his face at the sight of a shiny black car. "I've got plans."

Now Kyle knows how to put two and two together to get four. He's had his suspicions, but the reality of John Price even dating never crosses his mind. He really thought it was just the effects of him and Soap teasing him for being an out of touch old man. But no...he crosses the parking lot and opens the car door to help out a gorgeous brown beauty. There's no telling how old she could be because Kyle knows black doesn't crack (he's often called baby face...its why he refuses to shave off the little facial hair he has). Johnny is shocked and Simon just grunts out a small "huh?" as they watch their captain help his girl into the passenger side of the car.

"In hindsight." Kyle smiles and says as they watch the car pull off, "That new cologne he started wearing months ago should have let us know far before the tapered fade."

[ashwritesmonsters]

If it's alright can I have an orange story of a guardian angel realizing he is falling in love with a fem reader that he has been charged to protect? I want to be sweeter than sugar cookies :>

Hey there, thanks for the request! The writing I've been doing behind the scenes has been super serious and not sweet at all, so I appreciate the break from that you've given me! I love the idea of angels, especially the "BE NOT AFRAID" looking ones, so I hope you like it!

M!Guardian Angel x F!Reader

The silver lines traced across your skin like delicate spiderweb frost on the windows. You ran your fingers over the newest one—a thin curve that wrapped around your forearm, added last month when Sariel had stopped you from stepping in front of a taxi while lost in thought. The scar caught the lamplight, shimmering with an inner pearlescence.

Your apartment felt too quiet, too empty. The radiator clicked and hummed in the corner, fighting against the winter chill that seeped through the old windows. You pulled your oversized sweater tighter around yourself, curling deeper into a well-worn armchair.

"Sariel?" Your voice barely carried above the whisper of falling snow outside. "I know you're here. You're always here."

The air shifted, grew heavier, warmer. Light bloomed in your peripheral vision—the familiar white-hot glow of his halo casting sharp shadows across the walls. You didn't turn to look right away. After years of his presence, you'd learned to let your eyes adjust gradually to his radiance.

"You have a question." His voice resonated through your bones more than your ears, like a bell tolling inside your head—in a good way.

"I do." You traced another scar, this one along your collarbone—from the night he'd first revealed himself, when he'd stopped an intruder from breaking in. "Why am I marked like this? I've never seen anyone else with scars like these."

The light dimmed slightly. You turned to face him then. His human torso was tense, muscles rigid beneath skin that looked surprisingly normal—blemished, soft. Below that, midnight black crystals like obsidian glass enveloped his form closely, his slender legs gliding against each other restlessly with a sound like wind through glass chimes. His halo flickered like a candle in the wind.

"Others don't have these marks?" He asked, though it wasn't really a question—it was stalling. The way he wouldn't meet your eyes told you he already knew the answer. 

"No. I've never run into anyone with them, and you've mentioned plenty of other people have guardian angels, too. A lot of other people."

Sariel drifted closer to your chair, his crystalline feet pointed at the floor, grazing it imperceptibly. His fingers—long, elegant things that tapered to points like icicles—flexed and curled.

"I..." He paused, the flame of his halo dimming. "Perhaps I should have explained sooner."

You leaned forward, heart quickening. "Explained what?"

"Most guardians..." He gestured vaguely with one hand, sending prismatic reflections dancing across the walls. "We typically maintain distance. Observe. Intervene only in the most dire circumstances."

"And you don't?"

"I am..." His massive form seemed to shrink somehow, like a child caught sneaking cookies. "I am perhaps more... involved than I should be."

You glanced down at the dozens of silvery marks decorating your skin. "More involved?"

"The marks appear when we touch the mortal realm directly. Most guardians reach through the veil only rarely, only when absolutely necessary. I..." He turned away, his crystalline lower half grinding against itself. "I find myself reaching for you far more often than I should."

You forced a laugh, trying to break the heavy silence that had settled over the room. "What, are you just not very good at this guardian thing? Need the extra practice?" Your fingers drummed against the arm of the chair. "Or maybe your magic isn't as strong as the others?"

The crystalline chiming of his lower half stopped. His whole form went still, like a statue carved from light and shadow. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

"My abilities are..." His voice cracked, a sound like breaking glass. "They are more than sufficient."

Your attempt at humor shriveled in your throat. Sariel's mouth—the only part of his face visible below the obsidian crystal that covered his eyes—twisted into something that made your chest ache. His lips pressed together, corners pulling down in a grimace that looked foreign on his usually serene features.

"The Firmament has rules," he said, each word falling like lead weights into the space between you. "Guidelines for maintaining appropriate distance from our charges."

You pulled your knees up to your chest, making yourself smaller in the chair. "Distance?"

"Physical. Emotional." His hands clenched, the pointed tips of his fingers scraping against his palms. "We are meant to protect, not to..." He trailed off, turning away.

"Not to what?"

The light from his halo pulsed, casting wild shadows across the walls. "Not to feel."

Your heart skipped, then raced to catch up. "Feel?"

"Each intervention leaves a mark," he said, gesturing to your silver-traced skin. "But the marks are meant to be rare. Precious few. Evidence of dire necessity." His voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. "Not... not evidence of excuses to touch. To be close. To feel the warmth of your skin beneath my fingers."

The radiator clicked off, leaving the room in perfect silence. You could hear your own pulse thundering in your ears.

"Sariel..."

"I should have requested reassignment months ago." His shoulders hunched, his crystalline shrug grinding against itself. "When I first realized I was finding reasons—making reasons—to reach through the veil. When I started lingering here, watching you read, listening to you hum while you cook." His voice cracked again. "When I began to want things no guardian should want."

You uncurled from the chair, taking a step toward him. He drifted backward, maintaining the distance between you.

"The Firmament has strict policies regarding guardians who develop..." He stopped, his grimace deepening. "Who allow themselves to form attachments. To develop feelings for their charges."

"Feelings?" The word came out barely above a breath.

"I have failed in my duties," he said. "Failed to maintain proper distance. Failed to..." His head bowed, halo dimming to barely a flicker. "Failed to keep from falling in love with you."

Your mouth went dry. The words hung in the air between you, heavy as lead, precious as gold. You sank back into your chair, mind spinning.

"How..." You cleared your throat, tried again. "How common is this? Talking to your guardian, I mean."

Sariel's crystalline form shifted, scraping against itself. "Most humans never know we exist beyond abstract concept. They attribute our interventions to luck, instinct, divine providence." His mouth tightened. "They certainly don't have conversations with us in their living rooms."

You glanced around your apartment—at the stack of novels on the coffee table, the half-empty mug of tea gone cold, the cat bed in the corner that had never held a cat because your apartment management didn't allow pets. Everything looked smaller somehow, more hollow.

"And the other guardians? Do they ever...?"

"No." His voice cut through the air like a knife. "We are meant to be distant protectors. Silent watchers." His halo flickered. "Not... whatever I have become."

The radiator kicked back on with a clang that made you jump. Outside, snow continued to fall in absolute silence. No cars passed by—everyone else was tucked away in their homes, probably sharing dinner with family or cuddling with lovers on the couch.

"I've never..." The words stuck in your throat. You swallowed hard. "No one has ever..."

Sariel drifted closer despite himself, his light casting warm shadows across your face. "I know."

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Of course he knew. He'd been there through every awkward first date that went nowhere, every crush that fizzled out, every lonely night scrolling dating apps until your eyes hurt. Sariel had been there, observing.

"That's kind of pathetic, isn't it?" You forced a laugh. "The first person to fall in love with me isn't even a person."

"You are not pathetic." The temperature in the room spiked, his halo flaring bright enough to make you squint. "You are brilliant and kind and..." He caught himself, dimming again. "And I should not be saying these things."

You stood up, legs shaky. "Why not? You've already broken all the other rules, apparently."

"Because." His voice dropped lower, resonating in your chest. "Because every word makes it harder to maintain what little distance remains between us."

The silver scars across your skin seemed to pulse with their own light. You counted them—twenty-three visible ones, plus however many were hidden under your clothes. Twenty-three times he'd reached across the veil just to touch you.

You stared at your scarred arms, mind racing to process everything Sariel had just confessed. The weight of his words pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Love. He'd said love. The word felt too big, too new; like someone had just tasked you with unraveling a riddle. You had no idea where to start.

"These marks," you said instead, running your fingers over a particularly prominent scar that wrapped around your wrist. "Do they show up every time you touch me?"

Sariel's crystalline lower half shifted, the obsidian fragments catching the light from his dimmed halo. "Not necessarily. Only when I reach through the veil to intervene. To save you from harm." His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I may have rationalized undue necessity during those interventions."

"So you could..." Your throat went dry. "You could touch me right now? Without marking me?"

The temperature in the room fluctuated wildly—hot then cold then hot again. Sariel's halo pulsed with each shift.

"I could," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stood up from your chair, legs trembling. The distance between you felt like miles and millimeters all at once. His hand hung at his side, those long crystalline fingers catching the light from his halo, throwing rainbow refractions across the walls.

Your own hand rose, hovering in the space between you. "Can I...?"

He didn't move, didn't speak, but his halo blazed brighter. You stepped closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his form. Your fingers brushed against his.

Cold—but not unpleasantly so. Like touching a glass of ice water on a hot day. His "skin" felt smooth, harder than yours but yielding slightly—more than earthly crystal would. You slid your palm against his, marveling at how his fingers dwarfed yours, how the pointed tips curved protectively around your hand.

"Oh," you breathed.

Your heart hammered against your ribs. This was different from the brief contacts when he'd saved you—those moments had been pure adrenaline, over before you could process them. This was... this was something else entirely.

His thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, each movement sending shivers up your arm. You'd held hands before, of course—awkward first dates, consoling friends, helping seniors cross the street. But this...

"I've never..." The words caught in your throat. You swallowed hard, tried again. "I've never felt like this before."

Sariel's grip tightened fractionally. "Neither have I. In all my centuries of existence."

Your fingers traced the crystalline ridges of his palm, feeling every nuance of impossible geometry beneath your touch. It felt good. It felt right—but a nagging thought wormed its way to the surface.

"Could you get in trouble for this?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them. "With the... what did you call it? The Firmament?"

Sariel's thumb stilled its circles on your skin. His halo flickered, casting dancing shadows across the walls. "I... I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"The rules are clear." His free hand gestured vaguely upward. "We are not to form attachments. Not to reveal ourselves except in the direst circumstances. Not to..." He squeezed your hand gently. "Not to indulge in physical contact beyond what is strictly necessary for protection."

"But the consequences?"

"I've never witnessed them firsthand." His crystalline legs shifted again, anxiously. "Other guardians who found themselves growing too close to their charges... they always requested reassignment before it came to that."

You tried to pull your hand away, but his fingers curled around yours, keeping you close. "Maybe you should—"

"No." The word resonated through your bones, his halo flaring bright enough to make you squint. "I am selfish, indulgent. The others had the strength to walk away when they felt the first stirrings of attachment. But I..." His thumb resumed its gentle circles. "I savored every moment. Every excuse to reach through the veil. Every chance to feel your warmth beneath my fingers."

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. "But if there are rules—"

"Rules enforced by whom? I've never seen it. Never heard of actual punishment." His free hand rose to hover near your face, not quite touching. "Perhaps I am rationalizing. Making excuses. But I cannot..." His voice cracked, a sound like breaking glass. "I cannot imagine walking away now. Not when you're finally here, finally aware, finally..."

Your other hand rose to meet his, pressing his palm against your cheek. The cool crystal of his skin made you shiver. "I don't mind."

"You should." But he didn't pull away. If anything, he drew closer, his tall form curving around yours like a shield. "You should be horrified that your guardian has become so compromised. That I've allowed myself to feel these things, to want..." He trailed off, his mouth twisting.

"To want what?"

His halo pulsed, sending waves of warmth washing over you. "Anything you're willing to give."

You tugged gently at his hand, pulling him toward the armchair. "Come here. I want to try something."

His crystalline form chimed as he drifted along with you. "What are you planning?"

"Have you ever sat down before?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. His halo flickered. "I... no. We don't typically need to rest."

"Then it's time you learned." You positioned yourself in front of the chair. "Here, like this."

He stared at the worn fabric, head tilted. "I'm not certain my form is suited for—"

"Just try?" You squeezed his hand. "For me?"

His crystalline legs shifted, scraping against each other. With careful movements, he lowered himself into the chair. The obsidian-like fragments of his lower half arranged themselves awkwardly, more like a pile of black glass than proper legs.

"This feels... strange," he said.

"Scoot back a bit." You guided him deeper into the chair. "There. Comfortable?"

"I'm not sure that word applies to my existence, but..." His halo pulsed softly. "It's not unpleasant."

You bit your lip, gathering courage. "Room for one more?"

Before he could answer, you settled yourself carefully into his lap. His hands flew to your shoulders, steadying you with that impossible gentleness you'd come to associate with him. The crystal of his form felt cool through your clothes, but not uncomfortably so.

"Is this... acceptable?" His voice wavered slightly.

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the strange mix of soft human skin and hard crystal. "More than acceptable. How does it feel for you?"

His fingers flexed against your shoulders. The tension that had been radiating from him since his confession began to ebb away, like ice melting in spring sunshine. "Warm," he said finally. "You're so warm."

"Good warm?"

"Yes." His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer. "I've watched humans embrace countless times. Observed the comfort it seems to bring. But I never understood until..." His halo brightened. "Until now."

You shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. His crystalline form adjusted with you, somehow both solid and yielding at once. "What else do you think about it? Being able to sit, to hold someone?"

"It's..." He paused, considering. "Grounding. I've spent centuries floating, observing. This feels more... present. Real." His chin came to rest on top of your head. "I like feeling the weight of you. Knowing you're truly here, not just someone I'm watching from afar."

The radiator clicked off again, but you barely noticed. Sariel's natural warmth enveloped you like a blanket. His fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, leaving trails of pleasant tingles in their wake.

"I like it too," you said, letting your eyes drift closed. "Having you here. Being able to touch you, to see you." You laughed softly. "Though I still can't see your eyes."

"Perhaps someday." His arms tightened fractionally around you. "For now, this is... more than I ever dared hope for."

You hummed in agreement, feeling more relaxed than you had in years. His presence behind you felt right somehow, like he'd always belonged there. Like all those years of watching over you had been leading to this moment, this simple act of sitting together.

A sudden crash from the kitchen made you both jump. Your empty mug had fallen off the coffee table, rolling across the floor.

"Sorry," Sariel said, his halo dimming. "That was my fault. I sometimes forget to maintain corporeal boundaries when I'm distracted."

You twisted in his lap to look at him. "You knocked over my mug with your... what, your aura?"

"Perhaps." His crystalline form shifted awkwardly. "Though in my defense, you are quite distracting."

"My guardian angel is clumsy," you said, trying not to laugh. "All those times I tripped over nothing or dropped things—was that actually you being flustered?"

His halo flickered rapidly, like a failing lightbulb. For the first time, you felt embarrassed warmth forming underneath his glassy exterior. "I choose not to speak on such things."

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Pussy Steve in a leg spreader is all I can think abouttt... Unable to escape any of the touch and he's sooo sensitive guh

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Ngl, since you sent this in in fucking August, oh god, this is all I've been able to think about.

I just... yeah. It's been on my mind. There's something about spreader bars that I fucking dying for and putting pussy Steve in one? Why didn't I think of that earlier!?

Since Bucky and Steve stumbled into the discovery of how fucking good messing around could feel when they were horny, clumsy teenagers all awkward and lanky limbs, Steve has sworn that the thing Bucky likes most is, just, punking Steve. Fucking with him.

It started legitimate, at least. His thing.

His kink, maybe.

Back then, when Steve was all too close to stumbling and falling through death's door from his precarious place curled up on its stoep like some abandoned orphan, it was for his own good. He didn't want to admit it, not even fucking close, and Bucky didn't demand that he did, but he kept it in mind regardless. He kept Steve still yet aroused, enough to keep him hard (or most of the way there) but not enough to send his heart into a frenzy of the wrong kind. That, usually, ment working him up nice and slow. But, somewhere along the way, between life and body altering transformations and devastating plunges into death and through it, the habit stuck. Maybe they just never had time to learn any other way, though.

Now, still, Bucky fucks with him by winding him up nice and slow. Consistent and sensual, as if waiting for his body to work itself up through its slow circulation and anemia and everything else going against him. He likes to watch the color wash into Steve's pale skin; he likes to feel how he burns hotter with rising arousal; he likes to hear the stuble pick-up of Steve's breath, getting more shallow and hitched; he likes to know that he's making Steve feel good, good enough to be a tugging, distracting current that's not breaking right now, not yet, but it will be, it will build and build and get to the point where, eventually, Steve just can't stand it and he'll shatter. But. By the time that he's breaking, he'll have been so fucking worked up that he doesn't see it coming. Sometimes, that means cumming without a sound, mouth hanging open, nothing but a silent exhale of agony, or, sometimes, that means cumming with a shocked, unrealized wailing-moan as he flails over the edge whether he wants to or not. He's been boiled alive, the water growing hotter so incrementally that he didn't even know.

It's that moment that Bucky chases: the break.

The moment of the break. But, still, getting Steve--a stubborn little spitfire--to break isn't half as fun without a crazy-long, agonizing wind-up. It adds to the break. The anticipation makes it better. Worse, to Steve.

Today, the slow, consistent, easy wind-up wasn't as, uh, private as usual, though. Steve wasn't laid out on the couch in their apartment, held in Bucky's lap, back-to-chest, with Bucky's fingers finding their way up his tight, tight shirt to trace over his skin, the valleys and hills of his muscle definition. Bucky just 'innocently' touching until he's not, circling and plucking and playing with his sensitive nipples until Steve's panting and has lost all sense of time. When did this even start? What time is it now? Will this ever end? Steve wasn't in their shower on a slow, lethargic evening--nothing done all day but lay around, alone together--Bucky sliding in behind him to wash his body and tease him until he's plenty fucking wet to let Bucky in by the time he reaches between his legs, sliding his thighs apart with relaxed, unhurried hands. Fingering him with no rush. Not even stretching him out on more than two fingers. The two of them enveloped in nothing but pouring sheets of water and hot steam. If the mirror could, it'd be blushing, watching Steve get pressed tight against the glass shower stall wall, his face and tits smushed, displayed, all pale pink and desperate. Steve wasn't in bed, either, under orders to not move an inch, or Bucky would stop. Still, still, still--not tense but torturously relaxed--as Bucky skirts the line between massaging him and tickling him, waiting for him to be 'ready...' Whatever that means. Steve's past ready. Hot and wet and puffy between his legs. One touch there, and he could come apart. If only Bucky would. But, no, none of that. Steve wasn't alone.

They weren't alone.

Well, at one point they were, now, when it really fucking starts, they aren't alone.

Winding-up, tighter and tighter and tighter, Steve is trying not to fucking lose his mind in the middle of a goddamn meeting. He's fucking surrounded. All sides. Right. Left. Behind him. Infront of him. Some people are in their supersuits and other agents in low-key, blacked-out S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms.

It's a storm of faceless, nameless shapes that are hardly even people to Steve right now. Whatever the hell this meeting is about (debrief? It's got to be a debrief, right? Bucky wouldn't endanger him or other innocent people by preventing him from taking in intell, right?), Steve isn't registering a lick of it. Instead, he's focused solely around the buzzing, aching, nearly-silent bullet vibrator in his boxer briefs. They're just fucking tight enough to keep it in place, nevermind how Bucky just so effortless slipped it into the pocket at the front of his drawers like it was meant to be there--as if there was no way in hell that Steve would go without it, of course, not.

Steve and Bucky's ears are the only ones that can pick up the subtle earthquake plundering Steve, crumbling his earth, inch by inch as that fucking tiny ass vibrator pulses, buzzes, and rumbles tightly against his swollen clit, soaking the dry-fit material of his boxers.

Oh, god.

All the fucking hours--it feels like hours--they've been sitting here Steve's had to keep himself from squirming or whining or doing anything that'd tip off anyone to the toy going at him. Whatever Bucky's doing to control it or whatever pre-set he's put it to, the pulsing vibrations are perfectly balanced to keep Steve balanced on the razor edge of agony. It's not enough to make him cum. It's too much to not be desperately arousing. And it's not consistent enough to be ignorable. He's still fucking sensitive to it, even after all the dragging, droning conversation.

Trying to keep himself together has resulted in the flush that he knows is painted across his cheeks, sitting high like a sunset just starting, not yet kissing the horizon line. But, more, the way he's sweating like a dog. He can feel the rivers of it pouring down his back, pooling underneath his arms, the dimples of his back, and down his asscrack to the insides of his thighs where he's urgently pressing them together. He isn't sure if he's making it better or worse for himself, pressing his legs together. On one hand, it makes him less fervently paranoid that someone else can hear his little vibrator where its rawing him, making him crazy, but on the other hand, clenched tight in his fist, it's making the vibrations spread through him so much easier. A rock thrown into a pond with the ripples emanating out, lapping at the shore. Steve's nerves are the taut surface of the water, every single vibration a pebble that builds into not little ripples but huge waves that lap and erode at his edges, making him think he's about to cum in his chair, hardly resisting from grinding into his seat, bucking his hips and letting his eyes roll back, his lip coming out from between his teeth to moan more like a roar, finally fucking released from his ongoing torture and devastated by how it eats at him. All that pleasure. Too much.

Right when Steve's about to fucking tap out, thunk his head on the table and shoot his hand down between his clenching thighs to ride his own hand to completion--shoving the vibrator tighter against his wet, wet, wet, and swollen, tortured, clit--as he moans. Fuck all the people in the room, they all have to sign so many NDAs to work for an agency like this, what's another one for, oh, yeah, that time that Captian America orgasmed out of nowhere in the middle of a meeting. Right then, Bucky's metal hand lands heavy on his upper arm, digging his fingers into his bicep through his suit and dragging him to his feet.

Steve feels like a mess.

Steve is a mess.

He can't believe no one else knows what's happening. He's hardly lucid enough to grunt out a 'yes' or bob his head or to anything to make it seem like he's on the same fucking planet as all the people around him. It's just enough, though. Just enough. Not, not enough--

If Steve was sure everyone knew what was happening when he was using all of his self-control to not hump the chair he was sitting in, then he absolutely fucking knows that everyone is immediately crystal clear about what's going on when Bucky hauls him out of that boardroom. Bucky is dragging him away, steadying him on his shaking feet, to fuck him into next Sunday. They know.

Bucky is dragging him off to fuck him.

Pre-emptive relief crashes over Steve like a wave at the realization and he pays fuck all attention to the sights and sounds around him. All he knows is that one minute they're in the meeting, it's dismissed, and the next minute, Bucky has cornered him in the elevator, and they're moving. They're alone. Steve doesn't just melt against the hot, solid line of Bucky's leather-clad body, he disintegrates.

His knees go weak, and his hands curl into clinging, pawing clumsy things that won't work. His face buries itself in his chest--between his pecs, if they were naked like they ought to be--and groans with all the breath in his chest, punched out.

Indulgently, Bucky holds him there like that for a moment, scruffing him around the back of his neck like he's a shaky, anxious kitten. Steve might as well be the way he mewls when Bucky brings up one of those fucking killer thighs to grind against his pussy.

Steve mewls.

The thick, solid muscle of Bucky's thigh forces him to confront, right fucking here in this work elevator, just how wet he is. He's wet. Soaked. Vibrating hard. He's been dripping the entire time they were in that stupid meeting, messing up his boxer briefs and probably even the inside of his suit--it's gonna be a bitch to clean. It's gonna smell like sex forever.

Steve isn't thinking about cleaning.

Steve is, oh, oh--

Bucky has him right fucking there, about to fucking cum, he's so close, he can feel the heated, tangled knot of pleasure pulling taut low in his belly, about to fucking fray apart. Pulled apart. It's in the back of his throat. He can feel it in his teeth, creeping into the muscle of his jaw, he's half-clenching his jaw and half letting it hang open. He doesn't know what his face is doing; it's probably fucked-out and dumb. But--

"Ah, ah, ah," Bucky tuts at him, pulling his thigh away and pulling him up by the nape of his neck.

Steve doesn't give a second thought about the pathetic, sharp whine he gives at having his orgasm disparagingly denied. Ruined? Whatever the fuck happened that's left his whole fucking body quivering and raw. He was so goddamn close!

So, so fucking close that that's the only thing he can hold onto. And even that, as Bucky pulls him out of the elevator--out out the building through a dizzying revolving door, pushes him onto the back of his motorcycle, heaves his arms around him, and drives them home--slips through his fingers like sand. Steve isn't holding onto anything. His arms are physically around Bucky's stocky waist as they ride, holding on, but he's not emotionally holding on to fucking anything. His brain is dripping out of his ears. Hours of vibration, his thighs clenched together, trying to keep it together. Now, his thighs are split wide around the heaving, breathing, rumbling body of Bucky's bike. It's a fucking animal.

Bucky drives like an animal. Feral and reckless as New York blurs messily past them. And Steve just nuzzles in tight, moaning recklessly and unashamedly into Bucky's ear from over his shoulder.

He's beyond desperate.

The blurred, smeared paint effect of the world around him gets worse when they're off the bike. Closer to home, Steve feels more of that pre-emptive relief surge through him more. He can't put himself back together, first shaken apart in that meeting and then blended up by the motorcycle ride. Too much. Not enough. Steve needs more.

Steve knew he was wet, but he didn't realize just how wet he fucking got until Bucky grabs him and twists him around, hauling him over his shoulder, smacking his ass and keeping a heavy, possessive hand there while he walks Steve's quivering body deeper into their home just to pin him down against their mattress all handsy and strong. Steve can't fucking fight. He just lays there, teeth chattering. He's vibrating so much himself he doesn't know if the bullet vibe is still on or not. He doesn't need it. He just. More. He needs more.

Steve needs more, thrown in through their slammed-open front door and stumbling in, unsteady and breakable as a fawn. Fuck it. He's not breakable, he's already broken. Broken open and spilling molten hot--pouring out his lust.

He's so fucking on edge anything could set him off. Anything will set him off. Just. Please.

Steve can hardly fucking hear Bucky over the blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding like mad. But he's saying something, asking something with that damn gorgeous Chesire cat grin, all predatory and sharp, "you gonna show me how fucking wet I make you, baby?"

"Wrong answer, honey," his salacious grin widens dangerously the higher he gets off teasing him.

Steve can't think.

He can't hear.

He can't move.

Yet, he must shake his head, trying to clear his mind, figure out what the fuck is happening, what to do, because Bucky responds to him like he's answered. Like he can do anything. As if Bucky hasn't turned him into a useless pile of wet, desperate need.

And while Steve can't move, so overwhelmed with his lust, Bucky has no such issues. He's crawling off the bed where he has Steve fucked up and pinned to grab, grab--

There's no time to really process what the fuck that is, what it's doing to him, and how it feels on him when suddenly, like a switch flipped, Steve's cunt is hot and wet and kept clenched between his tensed thighs then Steve's cunt is cold and drenched and exposed to open air.

Steve's vision is so hazy and blurred he doesn't even know what it is and he doesn't think it matters anyway because Bucky isn't using it, rather he's running his hands fervently all over Steve's quivering body to strip him of his uniform. The distraction doesn't last long, though, as ruined and desperate as Steve is, Bucky is the same. Their desire intrinsically intertwined. Twinned and deepened. Made that much more perilous together. Once he's stripped to nothing but his sweat and blush, Bucky uses that thing he grabbed.

It's a spreader bar. The thing. It's a long bar, reinforced, and forcing Steve's legs wide, wide apart.

Bucky peels Steve's legs apart with a grunt and obscene show of strength, his flesh arm fucking flexing and his metal arm revving--recalibrating in a way that Steve could drool over all fucking day--and makes Steve too fucking aware of how stupidly turned on he is. He's wet. He's swollen. He's raw. He's quivering in phantom vibrations. He's so fucking aware of how exposed he is.

Exposed.

He can't keep his legs together. Bucky is just--

Bucky has him.

Bucky is pawing at his wet pussy like the big bad man he is. Fucking him up like he's the wolf and Steve is innocently lost in the wood. Steve should be afraid of his claws, but he isn't. He really isn't. He wants claws. He wants teeth. He wants.

His pussy is so hot and slick compared to the rest of the air in their bedroom. It's mortifying. Could he be wetter? No. He couldn't get any fucking more turned on without just dying. He might die here. Steve wails and jerks but doesn't get anywhere. He can't. He's spread.

Oh.

Oh, god.

Unceremoniously then, exposed and spread, Bucky shoves his face up there, licking his wet slit hotly, and Steve squeals.

What is he going to do to him? Steve could sob. Steve is sobbing. What isn't he going to do to him? He just wants to cum! Bucky doesn't have to kill him. He can just let him cum! He doesn't have to murder him!! Just let him cum!

Pleeease.

[wayfayrr]

If requests for Tears are still open I'd like to request him comforting reader.

Not the reader is crying and needs comfort type of thing. More like reader is kinda just shutting down a bit and stops working properly that day kind of thing, if you get what I mean. And as he is so caring maybe he'd make a flowercrown for reader? Or prepare their favourite meal? Just being supportive you know? Or whatever you imagine him to do!

Please and thank you. If you don't want to do it just delete it.

of course anon, I hope you're doing alright and if you ever want to talk to someone my dm's are open. <3

But this got a bit longer than I originally planned reaching just about 1K words but I tried to show how caring he can be

With how long we’ve been walking now, it shouldn’t be long till we settle down and make a camp for the evening although it’s not like I’ve got the best sense of time right now. We could have been moving for only half an hour and I wouldn’t be surprised without a clock. I've always been a bit time blind. 

“[na]- wh… -op” 

Is someone shaking my shoulder? We’re still moving aren’t we, did they spot something to show m-

“Where are you trying to go- [name] you just kept walking even when all of the others stopped and started settling down, it’s like you weren’t all there.”

“We stopped already?”

He looks so concerned, his eyes are already watering and although with anyone else it’d seem manipulative but with him? He doesn’t even know that he’s crying most of the time. 

“Yeah, Wild’s even got a fire going but you just kept moving, what’s going on, you haven’t been hit by something have you? Nothing that’s made you feel weird?”

I didn’t do as good a job of hiding it as I thought; if tears has been able to see that something’s wrong then… 

“Please, I don’t know what’s hurt you so much but I and the others are all here for you. You don’t have to bury everything and deal with whatever it is alone.”

“I-”

“Come back to camp with me though? We don’t have to talk but I, well I don’t really want to leave you on your own right now.”

Looking down, I’m greeted with a held out hand, he’s leaving it up to me to take it or not. Granted it’s not like there’s a situation I wouldn’t. It’s incredible how quickly he laces our fingers together when I took it though, the grin on his face as he does it making me feel a little fuzzy too. 

“I’ve got plenty of ingredients, if there’s anything you want I’ll make you it, or we can sit by the fire, or we could go sit somewhere separate to talk for a bit? Whatever you want, just say the word.”

“Could, can we just go be alone for a bit… I -sigh-  I don’t think I wanna be around the others right now.”

Not even a word had to be said as he nodded; gently running his thumb over the back of my palm. Leading us away with just a tilt of his head to the rest cluing them into what he’s doing. Next thing I know he's tugging me to sit next to a new campfire? When did that - am I really zoning out this badly consistently? He isn't treating me like there's something wrong with me though, he's just… here. Giving me the options for what I want to do, what I'm comfortable to share; it's nice. 

Sitting down next to him feels natural, leaning onto him even more so as he rests his arm around me reaching for my hand to trace lazy circles on it. 

“What can I make for you then [name], I heard you talking about pizza not really being a thing here but… well I’ve had it a couple of times so if you want I can make you some, or I’ve got some stored away so you could have that while we talk?”

“There a reason why you keep so much in your pad?”

“I well I… It's well… I keep it for times like this, if anyone needs a pick-me up quickly and since you've talked about pizza so much I thought that it'd be the best one to keep for you! I still don't know your favourite food so I just thought, until I learn your favourites, this would work.”

The nervousness in his voice is kind of endearing, the fact that he’s put so much thought into comforting someone he’s known for barely a week even more. He is a link though, so the fact that he’s a good person shouldn’t be all that surprising to me, not when I’ve both seen how the others act and played through his game myself. It’s different being able to live through it though, that’s for certain. It’s so comfortable here though; I can almost feel my eyelids drooping.

“I’ll get you something, I don’t think you’ve eaten today with how little you were here so you really should have something before you fall asleep sundelion.”

“Mhm, guess you have a point.”

“I've been worried about you you know? I know I probably don't have much right to be seeing as we haven't known each other all that long but I want you to know I really do care about you and that between me and the others you don't have to deal with whatever is bothering you alone.”

“It’s just thoughts, ‘m not exactly sure how to explain them.”

“Well, I won’t push, if you don’t want to share then you don’t have to. I’m not going to force you to do anything either way, just remember that I’m here if you ever figure out how to explain it.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, whenever you want.”

“Think I’m just gonna lie here for a bit before I decide.”

That seemed to reward me with a gentle nudge and a tiny - near unnoticeable - frown, not that I really know what caused… Oh, right, he said he thought it best that I eat something didn’t he? I shouldn’t be all that surprised he’s handing me a plate of food. 

“You don’t have to have it after all, I’m not even entirely sure it’s something you like. If it isn’t though I can make you something else!”

“No, no this is lovely. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve had something like this, I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You aren’t, I can promise you that.”

“But you’re doing all of this when I bet you’re tired too.”

“And you’re forgetting that I was the one who decided to do this, and even if you ever were a ‘burden’ you would be one I would forever choose to carry.”

[zealous-starlight]

Wow okay this has already gotten way more attention than I initially anticipated. Let's just hop right to it then!

To those of you that don't know, I'm making a TF2 visual novel! If you wanna learn more about that, you can check out this post for clarity. For now I wanna just explain the general idea for this thing.

So we are going to be following the player along this journey. I've yet to decide if I want to refer to the player as Y/n or if I want to find a codename for them yet, but for now that doesn't matter. They will be referred to with gender neutral pronouns either way, just so everyone can enjoy!

The basic gist is that you are an old friend of Ms. Pauling. She disappears from your life for a long while before calling you one night, pleading for your help. You agree, mostly because you owe her a huge favor (which I won't spoil for now). There's a year long time skip where it's revealed that she had recruited you as a sort of second hand to her, mostly just doing her paperwork. Every month or so the two of you take a trip to the base where you pick up paperwork and check on what needs replacing

The story picks back up with you and Pauling driving down the road in her car. It's about a month after the bread incident and the team has had to relocate to the cold front while the other base is fixed up so both you and Pauling have to do your check-ins there this month.

Little did you know an unlucky series of incidents would occur that end up with you, Pauling, and the nine mercenaries all trapped in the same building for the next month.

That's the general outline for the set up! As for the tone, I'm trying to stay true to a lot of the goofiness that TF2 has to offer so there will be plenty of the off the wall type humor in this. The level will heavily depend on the route you choose, some more serious than others, but all will have their moments. What I can assure you though is there will be plenty of intimate moments. This is a romance story after all!

I've got some bare bones plot written down and the different routes and such that you can take along the way, but it's still up for changing. I've got some stuff I wanna tweak here and there and plenty I still need to flesh out before I can even consider putting it down in hard writing, but I'm definitely working on it! If you guys have any suggestions or things you'd like to see change a little, feel free to let me know!

[mahou-furbies]

Closing thoughts on Magia Record Scene 0

Scene 0 has finally ended! Or the translation I've been following has been completed. To those who don't know, it tells the Madoka Magica story, but the point of view of a new character Mabayu, who for some reason keeps her memory through Homura's time loops and can move while time is stopped. And since we all know how the Madoka plot goes (right?), the main story here is the mystery of Mabayu having lost her memory of why she is already a magical girl.

(spoilers)

First things first, the whole premise conflicts with what I think is one of the core points of the Madoka Magica drama, that is, how Homura had to do her thankless time looping job all alone and became increasingly isolated because of it. But here it's "revealed" that she had a buddy all along, with whom she became very close friends and who is eventually cast as the reason why Homura is able to keep going on in the first place. The whole thing considerably waters down her devotion to Madoka, when most of the story is about how she bonds with Mabayu. And then there's also the inherent awkwardness of inserting a brand new nobody to the story you already know, to whom the characters you've known for a decade become the side cast.

Then again, that is the premise, so you just have to make peace with it if you want to enjoy the story at all. And in fact I like Mabayu a lot, so I'll take it, though I'll have to consider everything a non-canon super AU (even within the canon's actual AUs). There was also the other problem though that some of the stuff was kind of fanservicey, and not in the horny way but in the superficial "let's put the whole cast in maid outfits for no particular reason" way. But I was a fan of some of it, like Nagisa being un-witched in one time loop, so fine.

I don't know how much this is about what the story actually is and how much should be blamed on me not paying enough attention, but in the end I think there's still plenty of holes in the story. Like we learned how Mabayu became a magical girl and what how her personal magic power works, but I didn't understand how her memory doesn't reset through the time loops and why she can move when Homura stops the time. Also the way she erased other characters' memories was inconsistent, she had to cut Sayaka's memory all over again in each loop, but when she cut Mami's, the effect was carried to the next loop. And I guess it was explained how the final resolution worked (duh) but I don't think I quite understood.

That's a lot of complaints but I did have a decent time with this actually, and that is because I really like Mabayu. She's the kind of character I'd really like to see more in magical girl stories: low energy, kind of lazy and self serving, passive and loner but not in an edgy way, and it was interesting to see her grow to be more heroic. She also has a lovely voice, and it turns out the same actor also did Ha-chan whose voice is also great. She also had really good dynamics with the main cast, and I especially like growing friendship between her and Homura, they had good banter with Homura being super serious all the time, and their growing friendship was touching. And she had some interesting stuff going on with Sayaka and Mami too.

And while I complained about the whole premise being about rewriting canon, I also think there were some worthwhile additions. For example in this version Mami used to recruit other girls to become magical girls with Mabayu, and the guilt from that is a major reason for her breakdown when she learns the truth about witches. On one hand I prefer the version of a seemingly strong character actually being weak and emotionally unstable, like she's been through a lot and doesn't need a more noble reason for her breakdown, but I think the Scene 0 version is also interesting.

Ultimately the ending left me somewhat sour with how inconclusive it was. Mabayu cut herself from everyone's memories (including her own), but it feels like there's a ton of stuff about her that's not resolved. Like she's still able to move during Homura's stopped time and doesn't understand why, she's still a magical girl even if she doesn't remember it, becoming friends with Mami again doesn't lead much anywhere if she's going to die to Charlotte in a few days… If the idea is the bittersweet knowledge that Mabayu made a difference in the Homura-Madoka story but nobody can remember it, it doesn't work for me since I didn't really get what her contribution was. Or I guess it was pretty clear how important Mabayu's presence was for keeping Homura sane through all the failed time loops but that was like my number one issue with the premise, so maybe I'm just incompatible with the whole story to begin with.

Still I had a good time following this as the translations came out, I was eager to see where the plot would go and watching a short video every few days didn't require that much from me. Though I do think the story was too long for its own good and especially the early loops could have been condensed.

[olderthannetfic]

fandom social justice history anon here - aaah, thank you, early fandom being dominated by academics definitely connected the dots I was missing, thank you! Yeah, now looking at it with this in mind, it's pretty obvious how the tone of the meta essays from that era, while often snarky or even outraged, definitely sounds more like the tone of people who are used to passionately arguing in a setting that doesn't allow you to just throw whatever ad hominem accusation at your opponent's head. In contrast, tumblr's (and as a result, twitter's and tiktok's) style of fandom drama now reads to me even more blatantly like a catfight between high schoolers who have just recently learned some Big Words they only care to use as ammunition. I've read multiple older fans (including your invaluably informative blog) talking about how tumblr definitely reshaped fandom and brought in a TON of new people, and how slash was far from the "mainstream" of fandom even in the livejournal-ffn.net days, and I'm having a feeling that, for all the imperfections of this first tumblr generation of fans' activism ("let my gays marry" etc etc) the thing that got slash to be "mainstreamed" within fandom the way it currently is, also has to do with this pretty sizeable influx of new fans being mostly teenagers. As in specifically, overwhelmingly teenage girls who were having their first sparks of interest in romance during the height of the "I'm not like other girls" era + everyone shitting on twilight & "girly" musicians, because if you look at the posts from that period, they often contrast being a slash reader with being the slutty partying "other girl" or annoying hipster & at my school too slash kind of spread as a "not like the other girls" alternative to mainstream romance. Yes, not the healthiest attitude either, and it's good we've mostly grown past that, but like I said, there's a good chance that was what buffed up the numbers of slash fans to the point where today people are surprised fandom ever even was hostile to it, and at least in my environment, fandom activism, for all its flaws, was most people's first exposure to any sort of "-rights" activism at all. But (as is probably obvious) I did not experience most of even that era personally (I joined tumblr fandom in 2014). Anyways, excuse the rambling, if you feel like adding anything to confirm or deny my hypothesis, I greatly appreciate it, and I hope you have a nice day/evening!

--

M/M still isn't mainstream in plenty of fandom contexts, just not the ones I hang out in, and "not like the other girls" of the type you describe was already big in the 90s among people who'd heard of fanfic. It's just that fanfic was harder to stumble across overall.

I think the two biggest factors are the changing attitudes towards gayness in mainstream culture in a number of countries and... well... AO3 getting popular.

FFN was the big place in the past, though not for my crowd. Now, AO3 is taking a massive bite out of not only its market share but now, in the last few years, Wattpad's.

When the visible institution around which fanfic revolves puts filtering out het front and center, it sends a strong message that previous fandom platforms did not. You had your m/m-only archives and your f/f-only archives and your places that let you filter for those but that treated het as an unmarked default.

Look at early discussions of AO3. There's an undercurrent there that we all assumed it would be one of a number of archives and that we didn't expect it to get this big.

Nobody could have foreseen the Het-Is-Eternal-Default Wattpad crowd being forced by their own platform's suckitude to come camp on the thing built by slashers. Now, we are the admins and they are the also-tolerated. That never happened before.

The thing that makes people not report gay hand holding as evil porn that must be eradicated is simply AO3 putting its foot down.

Anyone who thinks that virulent slash hate is gone just hasn't looked at other spaces.

This is not about individual fans behaving better: it is about institutional power.

[wizzycore]

ok. this is my OFFICIAL wallaru copepost. i am a hater and this is going to be me hating specifically on the storyline of wallaru. if u dont liek that dont read XDXDXD -- MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD (also, this is a long as fuck post. so im putting it under a read below

Anyway .

ok so. my biggest gripe with this world is that plain and simple it just disappointed me. here are a good couple of reasons why:

1) events that didn't make sense... or perhaps absence of

ok, i'm starting out relatively weak in my reasoning and going toward stronger rationale as we go along. bear with me here. one of the most irksome things i found was events that didn't make sense, or the failure to create events that would follow up with previously established stakes.

let's recall where we're at by the end of novus:

dasein has forsaken everything, having seen the settlers on novus as the broad strokes of the entire universe - no more everything for him. meanwhile, the novus governors have sworn vengeance upon yourself as well as dasein.

(cont below)

but throughout wallaru we get very little peeps of either problem-- dasein is off fighting his own battles stuck in sap in the dreaming, and sure, the governors send some like... spiders.... to fight you, but it's never a substantial threat -- and they never really continue to escalate.... they just fade into the background until directly the end. (hell, dasein fades out too as the kroaker becomes a bigger threat.)

it feels like what should be our biggest priority going into wallaru is the continuation of the novus plot - be it through dasein or through the governors. but we're left basically floundering on that point until the Very Last Area(s) -- when there was plenty of space throughout the world to weave in information about what's going on there. they TRIED to weave in dasein information - but ultimately were so cryptic with it that it had no payoff and indicated basically nothing to us.

1.5) massive pov problems

I realized this is a continuation of my last point - so I'm putting it as a .5. When I say pov problems, I more mean "subject of focus" - wallaru had a bit many subjects of focus this time around for my taste, and certainly didn't pay appropriate attention to any of them.

dasein (existential struggle), the governors (colonial/power struggle), the 3(or 4) main wallaru groups (townies,drovers,kids,+dingos), sandiago(?), & the old one (past colonial/power struggle), joan&cane, judge veg, freddie kroaker, sybil, on and on and on.

you get my point, right? way too many hands in the same few bowls - all competing for attention, screen-time, characterization, and importance.

usually i've seen the golden rule for good characterization in wiz worlds as using characters at gateways. let's take novus for example.

copyqat/fuzhi - established as a strong character in her own right, (though is also a continuing character), who provides a gateway into catmandu npcs. you are compelled to learn more about catmandu through her (&later moo bu) strong foundations of interest - she becomes a companion, along with moo bu.

moo bu - also established as a strong character provides a gateway into the stone of heaven & the first leg villain, tung-ak. you want to learn more about the villain because he is the key to moo bu's character arc closure - not necessarily even because he's excessively interesting in his own right.

and tung ak passes the torch to dasein-as-novus! who becomes the grounding gateway for much of the rest of the world. it is compelling to investigate novus because he is it - and it is him - and he is such a strong (and priorly fantastically established) companion and plot device that he makes even the least tolerable of jokes semi-tolerable. and there are a lot of stakes to ending his suffering / opening his psyche back up to continue to talk to him. the moments with dasein in the gallery were a perfect example of weaving a fragmented dasein CORRECTLY into a world.

briefly we have that lil nonbinary dog person to carry us through the dog area even! & entwine them into dasein-as-novus motivation interests!

novus had a GREAT flow of attention and supplied a lot of motivation for a player to continue (thru emotional attachments to npcs and dasein) as well as a very sensical reason perhaps a wizard oc might continue as well.

wallaru however, much like karamelle, failed to supply a consistently meaningful companion baton toss while also introducing way too many one off characters w/o a meaningful connection to main npcs or companions .... leading to a very convoluted and confusing plot experience.

our primary&first companion, sandiago, theoretically has the motivating factor of a mystery - who is he, why is he /was he in wallaru, etc..... but because his involvement with the old one is introduced too late in the world, there's no clear connection to existing themes within his character - and therefore, very little drive to learn his mystery in comparison to other characters. he acts as an opinion device and a concealer of information, which is merely frustrating when he isn't a well established companion.

then: for a little while it's that acting gator guy? who is funny i guess, but not a grounding or continual companion - he's a one-off joke character we drag about for a while.

same with all the judges - they're mostly samey people.

essentially for the bulk of the middle of wallaru's plot, we're stuck playing sidekick to various wallaru npcs we don't already know in order to be immersed in their world (a very tourist-y perspective even once the overt tourism wears off).....wasting time that could be spent learning about sandiago (or god forbid, dasein&the governors.)

the intermittent time spent with dasein in the dreaming is great, don't get me wrong, the irks-as-emotions is a great explanation device and actually led to some of the least annoying exposition in the world -- but he's not much of a companion this world.... because other than "vaguely stuck in the dreaming" - we don't know where he is, how to get him, or WHAT HE'S GOING THROUGH. HOW HE CHANGES FROM THE END OF NOVUS TO WHEN WE MEET HIM FORMALLY AT THE END OF WALLARU IS ENTIRELY UNCLEAR (because it's told largely from sybil's perspective, who is just as cryptic as sandiago if not worse).

i consider joan locke & judge veg some of the stronger companions of the world, w/ judge veg having GREAT prior establishment and characterization and joan locke being a decent theme character. but they can't save what's already a train wreck - judge veg can only weakly 'introduce' freddie kroaker - mostly because we already know full well who he is.

what we needed from this world was the same tight plot we recieved from lemuria&novus - characters who scaffold the world and themes, rather than flounder and drown within them.

and we also needed tighter focus in general - to the same themes novus&lemuria were about (power, colonialism, *old one manipulation*, etc) and to a few concrete, reliable and lovable companions/minor antagonists. (if it were me, i'd go santiago -> judge veg/morb -> any novus character with dasein information weaved more strongly throughout... and leave sybil&the old one to fill out between santiago, dasein&morb. but alas).

2) events that didn't provide any meaningful payoff or further the story in any way

here's a running list:

-dasein's suffering in the dreaming (we don't see an arc from him, just senseless suffering & constant prodding from sybil to produce a realization we don't see)

-the huntsmen spiders (empty threat / annoyance, no real information about novus gleaned and especially not about the governors plan for novus)

-the entire fake walkabout tourist area (enforces the surface themes of wallarus tourist problem, but could've been resolved a little faster and gotten more done in the meantime)

-honestly? most of anything the furryosa crowd was involved in. maybe i'm just a dedicated hater but i feel like their agitation could be completely removed from the plot and it wouldn't have affected much, especially if the dingo family took the stage as the main third force as oppressed colonizer ?

-sadly some of the old one historical information. it felt... too spotty, inconsistent, or too late delivery of information to matter. which sucks and is the exact same way i felt abt karamelle's t.o.o information

3) MASSIVE amounts of exposition in inappropriate places

all dasein sequences pretty much struggled with massive exposition problems. exposition is great in wiz, it can feel earned, but because most of the world was spent in ignorance and suspense (so to speak), the massive worddump about the dreaming and dream water and the reverie and the dreamer and dasein..... feel unearned and almost annoying.... and that's coming from somebody who eats up lore with a spoon.

sandiago also did a fuck ton of it - which is fine, that's what he does, but he did it in big short bursts rather than slowly throughout. which did suck.

constant constant constant exposition about wallaru's political landscape and an npc's place in it. really really obnoxious after a certain point especially when the writers overtly showed pro-tourist/settler bias while arguing an ambiguously pro-indigenous point.

a resolution that didn't feel earned

see above: im still absolutely stunned.... the exposition and then a sudden truce..... felt so weird.

4) story felt secondary to gameplay/visuals (which is fine, BUT...)

but in an arc like arc 4, where story&visuals feed into each other very well, and where visuals were at times sacrificed (at least in effort put in - work smarter not harder) in order to serve story development -- seeing the opposite in wallaru was unnerving. it was gorgeous, yes. absolutely. i was fascinated by the architecture, the landscapes, the character models, the lighting&colors, the spells. it was all fantastic. but it felt like a distraction from a confusing plot... or rather an excuse for a confusing plot. not to mention, wallaru itself seemed a subject of focus (see above bulletpoint) throughout, but not in a thematically interesting way - wallaru is inert, subject to the whims of magic and politics, all while sitting very pretty and consumable for the viewer... and it is a non-diegetic as well as diegetic consumption. it's a rather odd turn from novus, in which we are carefully informed that the world matters too, yknow. (even if it isnt directly sentient.) in novus, when we stare at beautiful architecture, it was beautiful and served a very good thematic or characterizing purpose -- in wallaru, it seemed more an exercise of pushing the boundaries of scenic and character art. (which - again - is fine. i like it. but with a weak plot it just makes me sad.) -- not to mention, story seemed molded around cool battles and cutscenes rather than the other way around at certain times, especially toward the end battles. the only time this really felt excusable to me was during the lead-up quest to malus, mostly because there was a self-awareness involved that i did respect a bit.

very annoying characters, too many throwaways

furryosa, freddy kroaker, many random judges my beloathed. 0 meaningful characterization despite taking up so much goddamn screentime. fuck off forever

5) long running puns and jokes that sucked

again, furryosa&freddy kroaker - the nightmare on elm street joke was fun until it got dragged through the entire plot and also got misused to be pretend creepy. that's not what these damn jokes should do. same with mad max - it ACTIVELY inhibited furryosa's character from going anywhere to be a mad max archetype.

straight up continual racism toward indigenous ppl (in australia and elsewhere?). (known going in - somehow worse than imagined.)

i could make an entire whole post about this. the terms dreaming and walkabout being thrown around either as wizard101 lore terms (sitting on the same infamous shelf as 'cabal' i reckon, for being both technically important but very embarrassing and racist) or as a basically meaningless word for 'journey' dressed up to sound more """drover-y""".

the feeling that this story got drafted much like a spell circle that you run out of space for at the end.

all the exposition, realization, and heavy hitters got saved for the end, and happened so fast my head spun. they were all regarded with the same importance when some really did not have the same importance. (joan locke's reproduction of harmful power structures was not nearly as important as why the old one was even mentioned in relation to wallaru in the first place.....)

TLDR: come on, man. novus had some big shoes to fill, but wallaru was an offbrand novus shoved through the lens of curious tourists just begging for some 'nuance' . could've used a couple more cuts, tighten-ups, killing of darlings, ceasing of jokes, etc.

but malus was cool as fuck and well executed, and so i guess the team put their whole pussy into that and said oh well, theres a hot prime minister in wallaru and also dasein is there.

[genshin-obsessed]

Wondering how Childe, Itto, Al-Haitham, and Kaveh would do if they had a blacksmith s/o who knew how to make hybrid weaponry (e.g. a whip rapier)?

✧ Oooh! I've always hoped they'd add more weapons buuut I don't think they will lol, these are kinda short i hope you dont mind ;w;

✧ characters: childe, itto, alhaitham, kaveh

✧ Childe ✧

He loves it! Honestly, he had no idea that you were into blacksmithing. Of course, he wanted to see all your masterpieces and boy was he surprised.

His favorite had to be the hybrid gun. You can shoot people from a distance and use it in close quarters! This is like the perfect weapon for him!

He comes to you for any weapon repairs, suggestions, or whatever. You can also ask him about his opinions too, and he's got plenty of them.

What if- hear him out- you put a hammer... and a spear.. in one.

Ok, he's got some silly ideas, but you're always up for the challenge.

yes, he will absolutely always try out your new masterpieces.

✧ Itto ✧

Are you freaking serious?! Why didn't you tell him!? Itto spouts the fact that you're a blacksmith to the entirety of Inazuma!

This was good and bad because it did get you business... too much of it. You were definitely backed up with all the orders.

No worries, the Arataki gang is on your side! They... have no idea what the hell to do, but they're definitely helping! In whatever way they can.

Itto cannot shut up about all the fancy things you could make. You just laugh and add the idea in your sketchbook and in your free time, you add upon it.

The first weapon you finished that he suggested, you gave right to him. He loves it- shows it off to everyone.

His favorite weapon that you've made so far is the halberd! Yeah, he's used to his big ol claymore, but he definitely wants to try out the halberd.

✧ Alhaitham ✧

He was surprised! He had no clue you liked blacksmithing! Of course, since learning he always visits you to see if you come up with new creations.

You're pretty busy forging the usual items- swords, claymores, bows, etc., so you don't often have time for your own inventions.

However, when you do, you excel in all of them. By far, his favorite weapon you've made is a whip. You should him how to use it and all- he tells everyone he knows.

As he watches you come up with ideas and looks through your sketches, he can help come up with ideas.

One of his ideas was a dagger, but it was double-sided. You came up with ideas, forged it, and called it the haladie.

He loves the dagger, takes it everywhere and practices using it every single day.

✧ Kaveh ✧

Holy hell, he's so into it! The man may be an architect and not a blacksmith, but that doesn't mean he can't help with designing.

You're the master blacksmith, you know metals and weaponry. But Kaveh- he's who adds the beautiful touches to your weapons.

You made the claymore that he uses. However, Kaveh loves your more avant-garde weapons.

His favorite weapon has to be the urumi! It's part whip, part sword and you showed him how you best felt it could be used.

Kaveh loves the design and has practiced with it before, but he's a little scared because he did end up cutting his hand open because of it. He refused your apology, saying it was just a new weapon and wasn't your fault.

Though he can't use it, he still really likes it!

[jmdbjk]

Are they or aren't they?

I know I'm not the most jikook-centric blog around here and I don't go on and on about them every time content drops. (Or do I? 🤔)

I am not here to convince anyone of anything. I just say what I think about what I see and that's pretty much all there is to it.

I guess I take it for granted that most see what I see and it’s not necessary for me to point out the obvious all the time.

But for some reason today, I started thinking about Jimin and Jungkook and what they are to each other and how that has manifested itself to us this past year. Even though we see very little of it all, speaking for myself, I still see what I see and its all fine.

A super-long ramble:

The past year's solo era has definitely been an eye-opener for me as far as learning more about ALL the member's individual personalities, of how they work and how they view each other.

As far as Jimin and Jungkook, as time goes on, I don't sense anything that makes me feel whatever they are to each other has diminished at all. If anything, I feel like it is even more intense.

It is not so much what I see between Jimin and Jungkook because dang, there has not been very much to see with them in the same room has there?

But if we aren't seeing them together, I just sound delulu right? I just said I say what think from what I SEE... how can I see anything, you ask?... well...

Hear me out...

I see Jungkook figuring out this new phase himself... he has said in the past he still had some maturing left to do. I think he has shown us plenty of his true self and maturity this past year.

We know all this because he's shared a lot with us via his lives. He's been living his introverted life his way until its his time to get to work.

He likes to cook. He likes to watch TV. He loves to sing. He's keeping up with his boxing training. He has a goofy sense of humor. He's trying to be a normal person and go out in the world and eat at restaurants and attend concerts and hang out with friends. We've seen him being his "rebellious" 25 year old self. We know he has serious stalkers and he is very direct about it. He shows no fear to us.

We know he's most comfortable when he knows we are there with him. Unfortunately we've also seen him suffer through loss and we've seen him working through some feelings that have made him emotional. We've seen quite a bit from JK.

He has spoken to us about serious things and not so serious things. He is very good at phrasing things and expressing things clearly.

Jungkook is figuring it all out.

Kookie has spent a lot of time showing us himself and where he lives. He has had a lot of time to do so.

I see Jimin, on the other hand, has returned to being somewhat more like the Jimin we knew before the pandemic. The perfectionist workaholic. Also a new (to me) layer of sweetness and gratitude that exudes from him no matter where he is, interacting with fans at a radio station, in the audience of a performance, interacting with others in general and during his lives or just walking through the airport, Jimin is thankful for it all. This extra-strength gratitude manifests itself in the way he takes his time to thank just about EVERYONE and how he always seems genuinely surprised to see the outpouring of love.

Earlier last year it was obvious to me (me who pays very close attention to Jimin) that he was not himself. During photoshoots and promotion recordings he was not engaged. His mind was elsewhere. They all looked less than thrilled don't you think?

But since about last October, Jimin has been the happiest I've seen him in AGES during his lives. His music is making him happy. Working is making him happy. He says it at least once during every live: "I am happy."

And the sassy has returned. Jimin is SO HAPPY that we are seeing the re-emergence of a more assertive Jimin during a live broadcast! We haven't really seen this Jimin since... a long time.

This most recent live, I see a Jimin who is doing well and taking control of his life again. A Jimin who knows what is coming and is going to meet it head on.

From what I've seen, I can say that Jimin and Jungkook's time together was most probably curtailed this past year. I think a lot of people agree with that assessment. We infer this because Jimin was working his ass off and therefore he was elsewhere busy with schedules. I think the bulk of this was for his Face album but he was also busy with his new brand ambassador responsibilities. Side note: I saw that Robert Pattinson was getting $12 million dollars for his deal with Dior so I think its safe to say Jimin is getting at least that if not more for his deal. And he also has the Tiffany deal... Jimin is doing very well...

So where does this leave any sort of relationship (whatever it may be) between Jimin and Jungkook? How can they be "together" if that is what they are? Or how can they even be "close"?

JK has made it clear and obvious that he is very thrilled to see Jimin commenting during his lives. We've all seen it. He spontaneously combusts when he would see Jimin commenting.

[When someone commented that Jimin did not come live to tell us the Rainy Day Fight story so Kookie proceeded to spill the tea.]

My opinion from what I see: I think JK started looking for Jimin in the comments after a few times of having him show up there. I think he craved the interaction with Jimin. The knowing that Jimin was aware of him and took the time to acknowledge means something to JK.

And finally it clicked and Kookie realized "wow, turn on notifs and I too can know when JM goes live!" And so he did when Jimin was in the car and JK proceeded to have a full blown conversation while Jimin was on his way home from work.

When Jimin's album release date got closer Jungkook was giving us spoilers of some of Jimin's work via some of the songs on the playlist while doing a live broadcast. We weren't aware those were spoilers until Jimin's album and other songs came out: Muni Long, JVKE, the butterfly hair twisty thingy, playing Letter on the guitar... and then just outright telling us something amazing was coming out at midnight when Set Me Free Pt. 2 dropped.

... something amazing... I'm pretty sure JK knew how much work Jimin put into this first album and what it meant to Jimin to purge some emotional demons that had been plaguing him for some time. I would even say that JK was proud of Jimin and therefore, made sure to hype it up even though we saw that JK had some sort of emotional moment by himself on White Day back in March.

The lives progressed into Jungkook just outright spending either the entire live or big chunks of time totally ignoring Armys and focused solely on Jimin content.

He turns on a live because there is some sort of comfort to him knowing Army is present and then he turns his attention to Jimin...

He does all of that on purpose. Without just saying the words: "I adore Jimin and support him wholeheartedly" he has proven that he feels that way with his actions. He figured out a way to express this even when Jimin was who knows where.

If he didn't want us to think that, he wouldn't have done what he did, would he? Why would he spend so much time focused on Jimin?

We know JK's stopped having a presence on social media except for Weverse. And using just Weverse Live, he's been able to accomplish more visible support for Jimin than any other member has shown for any other member during this solo era.

And if he's doing all of this on Weverse, what else is he doing behind the scenes, in person, with Jimin?

We know they spent time recording Run BTS episodes last year.

We know of at least one instance of JK visiting Jimin while he was working hard.

Having Jungkook's support is probably one of the best feelings for Jimin.

"But Jimin asked JK to visit again and JK said 'no'." And yet JK contradicted himself telling Jimin he'd come to a music show recording but Jimin said it was too late, and that it was ok because JK had already visited him during this dance practice above.

"Jimin said that JK has not cooked ramyeon for him yet." Jimin also said it is off limits, he's eating a high protein diet. JK has also mentioned in the last year that he should be eating less gluten so sounds like they both avoid the type of noodles that are high in carbs and gluten. FYI: "ramen" is technically the Japanese style noodles with a milder flavor and "ramyeon" is the Korean version which is spicier. I have a habit of calling it "ramen" when I mean "ramyeon".

"Jimin doesn't hug JK like he does Hobi." Uh... yeah he does:

And then we have started seeing this pattern... coincidence? Not anymore... of Jungkook coming on live right after Jimin has left the country. And then we get the same thing from Jimin the other day after Jungkook leaves.

My opinion from what I've seen:

These two are very close and have worked out how they deal with separation. They spend time together when they can. When they can't they share things like everyone else does, by texting and phone calling and face timing and all that.

From what I've seen them say during their own lives, I think they spend time together talking about work. I especially think JK has participated in helping Jimin rehearse, practice and just generally hanging out. I think they spend time eating together and watching tv or youtube together.

I think they are fine and are navigating their relationship (whatever it is) very well, regardless of their careers and impending military service, existing as global superstars as well as being normal day-to-day Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin. They are making it work because they've been doing this for at least ten years already.

So, long ramble to say, I will continue to not state the obvious every time we see something, because to me, its obvious everything is going well for them.

[fanficbrainrot25]

CAN WE PLEASE GET SOLID SNAKE SMUT PLEASE IM BEGGING LITERALLY ON MY KNEES🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Lonesome Cabin [MDNI]

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Out in the Alaskan snow, you and the legend — and old friend — Solid Snake have a sparring match. You practically begged David to train with you, wanting to show off your improvement since the last time you saw each other. However, the weather has other plans for you, and a snowstorm cuts off the session early. In the cabin, with powdery snow blowing past, you look for warmth in each other's arms.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

TAGS: Solid Snake/Reader, Fem!reader, PRE-MGS1, friends to lovers, smut, snowed in, SNOWSTORMS!!!, oh no whatever will we do, hmmm I guess we could snuggle... just for warmth ofc, a little rushed, not really proof read, i did this in a weekend, my first time writing smut lmao

WORD COUNT: 1,975

A/N: I just wanna say this is heavily inspired by a solid snake bot I saw on c.ai. The creator is @ caetuna ! Although I don't use c.ai anymore, if you do, please support them! Their bots were simply fantastic and made me enjoy the app a little more 

anyways, thanks for being my first request! enjoyyy 🫶

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

You're not sure why Dave agreed to your crazy idea. Afterall he had every reason not to.

Snake and you hadn't been in contact for quite awhile. Granted, you both had your own life's to tend to but, you still should have atleast called. So when you did, and asked if it was okay if you stopped by his place on your journey across Alaska, you most definitely didn't expect him to say yes. 

It was an obligation really, to atleast say hi to him. And show off your new skills in the process.

"Are you sure about this?" Snake grumbles.

"Yes I am."

"You really think you've improved enough to beat me? You?"

"Snake c'mon..."

"I just find it ridiculous is all." With that thought, he gets into stance. "Well, if that's the case, then come on. Show me what you got."

Getting into stance, you face him in the snow. The clothes you two had on were probably not enough for the chill, but who cares about that anyway?  Snake's brown hair danced along with the gentle breeze that came through, obscuring his face for a moment. He seemed to have grown a bit of a stubble since the last time you saw him, though you don't blame him. Who would bother with shaving out here? He's retired anyway, and lives in a lonesome cabin, it's not like he has anyone to look nice for. Not that you know of.

It looked good on him.

"Let me know when you're ready." 

His deep voice brings you back to reality. "Ah, right." You shift in the snow a little more, trying to get into your flow state. 

Fists clenched, you spring towards him, sending a few jabs towards him which he blocks with ease. You try to sweep his leg, which catches him off guard, sending him flying down. He's quick to recover, springing back up and sending a kick in your direction. Somehow he grabs your arm and spins you around until you land against his chest. His breathing is heavy, you could see the mist of it infront of you, coming out unevenly. You just him in the ribs, catching him off guard. With him distracted, you put some distance between you two. Snake however, is quick to chase you down.

He sends punches one after the other. It's relentless, one after the other, and he just screeches to a stop. You take the opening, sending a punch — which ends up being really foolish — since he takes your arm and flips you over on your back. The impact explodes your back with pain, the frosty snow numbing the ache. 

"Ouch..." You groan.

Snake looms over you, the bastard having the audacity to smirk at you. The last golden rays of sunshine fade behind him. "Looks like you haven't learned a thing." He extends his hand out.

"I've learned plenty I'm just... a bit rusty is all." You grab his hand, pulling yourself up. 

"I'm sure you have. Maybe next time." He brushes himself off, "By the way, there's a snowstorm coming through soon. So I'd stay safe out there."

"Really? Hm," You purse your lips in thought. "I could stay here for the night then."

"Oh."

Oh? Why did he say it like that?

"Unless, you don't want me to-"

"No."

"What?"

"No I," He looks away, "I'm just surprised." He coughs. "Uh, you can come inside."

Trudging through, you follow closely behind Snake as he leads you to the cabin door. He pushes it open, the inviting smell of wood and ash flooding your nostrils. You close the door behind you, taking off your jacket and hanging it on the coat hook. The living room was beside you, an ancient woven carpet beneath an even older looking table.  A sofa sat sung behind it, velvet and parts of fabric missing. It sat across from the fireplace, which from what you could tell, looked like it was used earlier.

"Nice place you got here..."

Snake made a noise of approval, but from the tone of your voice he could tell you weren't really, approving of it, to say the least. "You can sit down if you want."

Taking the invite, you kick off your shoes and run towards the sofa, plopping yourself down. It was surprisingly comfy despite it's looks.

"I'll get the fire going. Do you want anything to drink?" He asks as he fiddles with getting the flames to spark.

"A few cups of beer would be nice."

He chuckles at that. "Not surprised." 

"I need to relax, Dave."

"Yeah, after getting your butt kicked from me."

You scoff. "Shut up."

Finally, he got the flames going, the crackles of fire soothing your ears, a stark contrast to the howling winds of outside. As he left to go get drinks, you reminisced on old memories. You missed this. The back and forth banter, the talks that lasted way too damn late into the night, the occasional play fighting, you missed it all. But most of all, you missed him.

A part of you would never admit it, but you've fallen so hopelessly in love for him. It started out platonic, but as you grew closer and closer, you felt your feelings towards him shift. It's horrible, truly, and seeing him again like this? It just made things worse. Thoughts swam and zipped through your mind, the noise becoming a bustling city. A corner store of wholesome thoughts there, a corner store of thoughts-you-would-never-share-aloud-even-for-a-billion-dollars- there. You pinch the bridge of your nose to steady your thinking. 

Footsteps approach, and you notice Snake coming back. It looks like he already changed into something more comfy, wearing a simple white shirt a navy sweatpants. Beers in hand, he sits down next to you, the weight of the coach sinking along with him.

He offers you one. "Here."

"Thanks." You groggily answer, taking it from him. For a moment your fingers brush, and a cackle pops.

The sound of opening cans fill the room, you and Dave chatting with one another. Just like you used to. You drink a few more cans, but not enough for you to be completely drunk. Dave however seemed unbothered, despite already drinking four cans of it.

"So," Alcohol bubbling in your system. "You've meet any pretty ladies as of late."

"How recent are we talking?"

"Mmm like in the past few weeks, months."

"I have."

"Yeah?" A tad bit of jealousy bites at you. "Who's the lucky woman?"

"Well, it's you."

"Oh, stop it."

"I'm being serious."

He looked you dead in the eye, and you couldn't help but laugh. You knew he was being serious, but you just couldn't believe it.

"Haha! Very funny, Snake." 

"What about you, you've met anyone?"

"Hm." You ponder for a bit. "A few, but nothing ever serious. Or, lasting." With the last word, you look away. You could feel him still staring at you. Okay, new topic. 

"Um, anywho, where are your dogs at?"

"They're hanging out in their room. I didn't want them to bother us."

Us.

Not you. Us.

"I guess that's fair," feeling cold you move a bit closer to him, brushing against his thigh. "Wasn't much of a dog person anyway."

"Excatly why I kept them away."

You're not sure what gives you the courage. Maybe it's the alcohol running your adrenaline, or something else entirely, but you decide to push this a little further.

"Is that the only reason?" A little closer now.

"No, I have plenty other reasons why." A glance at your lips.

"Which are?" You drawl out your words.

"It has to do with a certain someone who's in my home."

"Hmm, and what else?" You place your drink on the table.

"And... how they're driving me just about crazy right now." He leans in. "Making my mind go wild."

"Care to explain those thoughts of yours?"

"I'd rather show."

Just like that he's on you. Ravaging every part of your lips, so expertly you can't help but deepen the kiss. His right hand travel to cup your cheek, while the other hold your waist. Gently, you're pushed down against the couch. Fuzzy warmth envelopes you all over, igniting a spark deep inside you.

Eventually, you have to break the kiss to breath, panting breaths mingling with each other. Oh, the way he was looking at you. Like he's been waiting for this for so long.

"Listen-" He panted, "-If if you don't want to do anything more we can just-"

"No."

"Huh?"

"Snake, I wanna spend the night with you."

By his gaze, you knew your words shift something inside of him. The fact that your words held merit, that you could do that to him, made you clench your thighs.

"Then the pleasure is all mine." He's back to kissing you, his hands wandering over your chest, thighs, arms, whatever he could lay his hands on. It's instinct, of course, when you hook your leg around his waist. You needed to be closer, but it wasn't enough.

Thankfully, Snake seems to sense your thinking, lifting up your shirt so he has more skin to access. Making quick work, he unclasps your bra and pulls down your pants, now resting at your calfs. He trails kisses down from your neck to your stomsch, and back again, each one becoming more desperate than the last.

"You're downright gorgeous." He mumured. "Fucking beautiful."

You whine at his praise, Snake smiling at the sound. Taking his fingers, he toys with the band of your underwear, before slipping them under. Two fingers enter you at once and you could hear the lewd sound of how wet you were. 

"Can't believe all this is for me." He breathes, picking up his pace. "How long have you wanted me like this? Huh?"

"Snake-"

He perks up at the name, thinking it sounds better than the one he was born with. "Say that again." He pushes his thumb against your bud, earning a delicious moan from you. You could feel pressure building within you. Rapidly coming closer and closer. What else could you do, but chant his name over and over?

Ripples crash through you, and you let out a silent scream. Snake keeps going in and out, riding your high, before removing his fingers and wiping your juices off. You see him pushing his band down, springing out his hard cock in all it's glory. Slowly, he pushes your panties to the side, lining up his dick to your cilt. Very, very gently he pushes in, letting you get used to the side. 

"That okay?" He asks, sounding like he's barely holding it together. You nod.

That's the only warning you get before he plunges in. And you just feel him around your walls, the lewd slapping of skin on skin filling the room. His grunts were in perfect sync with his rhythm, and you both ascended to nirvana together. Pure bliss.

Snake starts to blabber on, giving you praise and telling you how beautiful you were and what have you, causing your orgasm to build quickly. By the way he was stammering, you could tell he was close too.

"Where- argh fuck - where do you want me to-"

"Inside," You beg. "Please."

That pushes him to the brink. Earth shatters and you can feel him spasm inside you, filling you up with his seed. You're close behind, white starts filling your vision as you cry out. You both take a few beats to relax, taking a break from the high. Snake was still inside, laying his head on your chest, his arms embraced around you. Lazily, you run your fingers through his hair, smiling at how soft they were.

"Looks like we're staying warm tonight." You whisper. Already half asleep he just grunts, "You could say that again."

[keyh0use]

what do u think rafes reaction would be to first hearing barry speak spanish (especially for the first time too!!!)

Because I envision Barry as first gen, I think he has a soft spot for newcomers who struggle with the language barrier And I think I've written out maybe six different possibilities, some I've probably already posted here, but a (newer) favourite of mine is: Rafe and Barry make a trip off the island for a pick-up, something the older man likes to do by himself and it's the first time he's ever invited someone along to meet his supplier. Not that it's a big deal or anything. (it is, Barry's heart races every time Rafe shows even a smidgen of excitement) It's unusual for them to be so carefree. Even though Barry puts on a relaxed facade, he's always carrying, always prepared to be in some altercation. And Rafe's image and expectations loom over him, guide and guilt him in everything he does. Until they're an hour off the island, away from the judgemental stares of people who will never think they fit together, as anything. Even friends, which is all they are, of course.

On the way back they pull over at a tiny corner store to grab something to eat, knowing everything will be shut by the time they arrive back in the OBX. Rafe has zero experience with communities off the island, every vacation the Cameron's have taken so far have been to all inclusive resorts, where his family is treated like royalty; untouchable, never to be bothered. So he's a little jittery as they wander out of the truck and into the store, groups of people filtering in and out that are nothing like the self-involved kooks he's normally surrounded with, they're offering him easy greetings and stepping aside, not because of his status but out of natural kindness. It makes him stick closer to Barry with uncertainty, never straying any further than a few feet as they walk the aisles, grabbing snacks as they go. Then the checkout is backed up, two groups before them who are clearly growing annoyed as an older lady at the counter stumbles over her words, very flustered the longer the broken interaction continues. Barry can remember watching his parents go through the same thing as a child and it makes his heart ache, especially when the other customers start complaining just loud enough for him to hear. His father was a labourer and his mother did some under-the-table work, like babysitting, so he was the only one forced to socialise with the locals and in turn, learn English.

In a sense he was glad, because it meant they never had to hear the hurtful comments made about them when they were in situations just like this. So Barry takes it upon himself to step out of line, leaving a momentarily panicked Rafe with an easy be right back, to approach the cashier and bridge the gap, introducing himself in his native tongue and interrupting the obnoxiously slow-speaking asshole behind the register. Meanwhile, Rafe is standing frozen in the line, clutching a bag of crumbling chips in his large hand absentmindedly, fully enraptured by the scene playing out in front of him. He should have known Barry spoke Spanish, given how utterly obsessed he was with learning every single detail about his dealer. There were plenty of signs, he releases while thinking back, like cheerful cards with Feliz Navidad sprawled on the covers stacked amongst glossy restaurant coupons atop the fridge, and telenovelas quietly playing on the TV when Rafe finally rolls out of bed in the morning and Latin music the go-to while cleaning up around the trailer.

Still, Rafe is shocked silent, watching on as Barry listens intently before translating, again and again until the conversation has reached a satisfying conclusion. And just like every time the dealer watches over him when he's too high or drunk, every time Barry comforts him and brings him back down when he's too emotional, and every time premade plans are suddenly cancelled just because Rafe made an offhanded comment about wanting to hang out together: Rafe chest swells with affection at Barry's desire to take care of those around him.

Sometimes, admittedly, watching Barry help others makes Rafe uncomfortable. Even upset and angry. Possessiveness (even when unwarranted) tugging at his nerves, desire to be the only thing the dealer's attention goes into present at the most inappropriate times, like when some poor woman needed her tire changed on the side of a backroad. There's also a tug in Rafe's groin, too, obviously, which makes him look away bashfully when Barry finally moves to join him again. After that night it becomes a personal goal of Rafe's to see if he can elicit that part of Barry. Sometimes he'll start bickering over unimportant things, just picking apart sentences for no other reason than to be brat, just to hear Barry playfully curse him out. Rafe never misses a chance to visit with Barry's family, either, because he gets to hear his man socialise with an easiness that's usually not present and that accent Barry unknowingly slips into.

After that night it becomes a personal goal of Rafe's to hear more. Sometimes he'll start bickering over unimportant things, being a brat because it works in his favour, rejoicing when Barry playfully starts to curse him out. Rafe never misses a trip to visit Barry's family, no matter what he has to postpone, because he gets to watch his man socialise and unknowingly slip into an accent that drives the kook insane; Barry's usual southern twang, so unlike his own despite residing on the same island, showing through the foreign language, making it sound a thousand times more romantic than it already does.

It's not one-sided, either. Barry loves teaching Rafe, and that his boy is so willing and eager to learn. He doesn't laugh (too much) when Rafe butchers words, the two of them repeating it back and forth until the kooks wrapped his tongue around the syllables correctly. Barry also loves ordering Rafe around in the language he's only starting to become more familiar with, getting rewarded and praised when he follows the commands—but Barry will sometimes add on extra words just to throw him off, speak too fast for him to follow and watch as Rafe panics and scrambles to obey, giving the older man the perfect excuse to punish him. <3

Thanks for the ask!! <3 (and sorry I didn't answer it for like a week. I actually did...and then it got buried. PLUS tumblr does this weird thing where it says my posts can't be saved? And then I lose all my progress)

[multi-fandom-lunatic]

The emergence of new adult lit on booktok throws me off as an adult. You are asked to imagine adults with the mindsets of teenagers, who fall into tropes commonly found in YA books, engaging in explicit content. That's wild. You would think authors wouldn't make use of tropes for books about adults - there is plenty of adult lit that focuses on characters and worldbuilding, and doesn't use tropes. The whole new adult lit phenomenon feels kind of condescending, honestly. "Oh well you're becoming an adult, let's ease you in!11". But you don't have to be eased into adulthood once you reach it. When I became an adult I just started reading adult lit and I really liked it. No adult should have to be told that they need to read this book full of YA tropes aimed at adults in order to understand adulthood, that's kind of ridiculous.

It's another flavour of escapism. Booktok is typically aimed at teens to people in the early twenties, which is quite a lot of age difference. Authors, in recent times, recognise that Booktok is a guaranteed (well, as guaranteed as becoming an author can be) way to have your book reach people and be success. So they use Booktok's wide demographic by writing Adult Lit books with YA tropes. It's a pity because it compromises the Adult Lit genre as a whole.

I've observed that the reverse is also true. YA books are darker than ever, because, again, authors want to appeal to the widest demographic. Both these phenomenon waters down the quality of reading material, and it's interesting how they go both in hand. I do wonder how this will reflect on the behaviour and mindsets of adults and teens out there, if it hasn't already.

I think it's also an insecurity thing (among readers)? There's always been a parade of people telling you what to read at a certain age, and, more specifically, what not to read. So, blurring the lines between teen books and adult books is a solution (a bad one. A terrible one) to get rid of the negativity.

It's a vicious cycle: authors write watered down Adult Lit, readers eat this shit up for the escapism it provides, other authors see its success, and repeat. It seems as if authors scroll on Booktok to see what's popular, mix in a mish mash of the tropes in the books, make the YA darker and the Adult Lit more YA and sell. And it sells incredibly well, unfortunately (something something there's a conversation about consumerism to be had here).

This phenomenon only stops when people stop being insecure about what they read, imo. And THAT only stops when people stop policing what other people should read. And that will likely never stop. The problem now is that social media broadcasts this stuff far more than it did in the past.

I happen to hate most YA stuff (at least, in the way it's written currently. No doubt that'll change in the next thirty years or so). The insufferable teen who has to learn to be less insufferable (and somehow always ending up with a boyfriend) is a tired, tired trope I am very ready to move past. I read middle-grade even though I'm past the age for it because, hey, it's a fun read (imo, middle-grade stories have much better arcs than YA stories do, but that's personal opinion)! And if you honestly need a whole (two) genre(s) to bend over backward because of an insecurity you aren't reading the "right thing" you might have bigger problems than your taste in literature.

Thanks for the ask! I hope this is what you meant by what you said. It's my interpretation of it, anyways, and that's as good as any.

[commodorez]

Hi! I'm so sorry if this has been asked before, but I'm completely clueless on computers, but I want to learn about them. Any places you'd recommend starting for bare bones beginners? I'm also interested in early-mid 90's tech particularly too. I'm guessing I have to figure out the basics before I can move onto specific tech though, right?

You're really knowledgeable and nice so I figured I'd just ask. Any help at all would be appreciated. Thank you! :]

That's an excellent question, I don't think I've been asked it before in such a general sense. I was raised with the benefit of being immersed in computers regularly, so providing a solid answer may be a bit difficult since for the basics, I never had to think about it.

I had computer classes of various types throughout my school years. We learned how to use a mouse, typing, word processing, programming -- and that was all before middle school. We got proper typing, html, and general purpose computer science courses in middle and high school, and you can bet I took those too. I also have the benefit of a bachelors of science in computer science, so you'll forgive me if my answer sounds incredibly skewed with 30+ years of bias.

The biggest suggestion I can give you is simply to find a device and play with it. Whatever you can get your hands on, even if its not that old, as long as it's considered past its prime, and nobody will get upset of you accidentally break something (physically or in software). Learning about things with computers in general tends to have some degree of trial and error, be it programming, administrating, or whatever -- try, learn, and start over if things don't work out as expected the first time. Professionals do it all the time (I know I do, and nobody's fired me for it yet).

Some cast-off 90s or early 00's surplus office desktop computer running Windows would be a good start, just explore it and its settings. Start digging into folders, see what's installed, see what works and more importantly what doesn't work right. Try to find comparable software, and install it. Even the basics like old copies of Microsoft Office, or whatever.

I recommend looking through the available software on winworld as it's an excellent treasure trove of operating systems, applications, games, and other useful software of the time period. I'd link it directly, but tumblr hates links to external sites and will bury this post if I do. If you're a mac fan, and you can find an old G3 or Performa, there is the Macintosh Garden's repository of software, but I'm not the right person to ask about that.

Some of you might be like "oh, oh! Raspberry Pi! say Raspberry Pi!" but I can't really recommend those as a starting point, even if they are cheap for an older model. Those require a bit of setup, and even the most common linux can be obtuse as hell for newcomers if you don't have someone to guide you.

If you don't have real hardware to muck about with, emulation is also your friend. DOSBox was my weapon of choice for a long time, but I think other things like 86Box have supplanted it. I have the luxury of the real hardware in most cases, so I haven't emulated much in the past decade. Tech Tangents on youtube has a new video explaining the subject well, I highly recommend it. There are plenty of other methods too, but most are far more sophisticated to get started with, if you ask me.

For getting a glimpse into the world of the 90s tech, if you haven't already discovered LGR on youtube, I've been watching his content for well over a decade now. He covers both the common and esoteric, both hardware and software, and is pretty honest about the whole thing, rather than caricaturish in his presentation style. It might be a good jumping off point to find proverbial rabbits to chase.

I guess the trick is to a find a specific thing you're really interested in, and then start following that thread, researching on wikipedia and finding old enthusiast websites to read through. I'm sure there are a few good books on more general history of 90s computing and the coming internet, but I'm not an avid reader of the genre. Flipping through tech magazines of the era (PC Magazine comes to mind, check archive dot org for that) can provide a good historical perspective. Watching old episodes of the Computer Chronicles (youtube or archive dot org) can provide this too, but it also had demonstrations and explanations of the emerging technologies as they happened.

There are so many approaches here, I'm sure I've missed some good suggestions though. I also realized I waffle a bit between the modern and vintage, but I find many computing troubleshooting skillsets transcend eras. What works now can apply to 10, 20, 30, or sometimes even 40+ years ago, because it's all about mindset of "this computer/program is dumb, and only follows the instructions its given" . Sometimes those instructions are poorly thought out on the part of the folks who designed them. And those failures are not necessarily your fault, so you gotta push through until you figure out how to do the thing you're trying to do. Reading the documentation you can find will only take you so far, sometimes things are just dumb, and experimentation (and failures) will teach you so much more about the hard and fast rules of computers than anything else. I'm rambling at this point...

So, let's throw the question to the crowd, and ask a few other folks in the Retrotech Crew.

@ms-dos5 @virescent-phosphor @teckheck @jhavard @techav @regretsretrotech @airconditionedcomputingnightmare @aperture-in-the-multiverse -- anything big I missed?

[moonlit-mystery-writer]

My Oc's Relationships with the Varia

@childe-of-saulot @myrmyrtheorca

Okay! Fair warning before I start on this oc, there will be a lot on her lol. I've been able to play around with her the longest of my KHR ocs and I have her entwined with a handful of other ocs (That I might post some other day).

Secondly, she's the wife of the Arcobaleno and partially cursed as such, so Viper/Mammon will be done later when/if I ever get around to writing out her dynamics with that group lol.

Thirdly, Fran will be on a different post too if/when I get to the Kokuyo Gang.

Celeste Thorne or Celeste Épine is naturally a very caring and kind woman. If she's not actively taking care of someone, she's inevitably mother hen-ing someone. The type of person who's always wanted to be a parent; someone who's always dreamed a big family. However, her chances of being a mother were mostly dashed when her spouses were cursed into infantile forms and her own age permanently frozen no matter how many years pass. Even so, she did everything to keep herself hopeful and positive for the sake of Aria who she was now raising.

Squalo: Celeste is best friends with Squalo's mother and is his godmother. She was one of the first few people who held him as newborn and basically helped raise him throughout his life. Right there for almost ever major milestone of his life, and for the few she wasn't, she showed up not long after. She adores him with all her heart, having a slight tendency to still view him as the ambitious little boy she knew so long ago; the baby who'd stubbornly fuss in her arms no matter what she did as his mother got some much needed rest.

One thing she still does for him that she's done since he was young is get him at least one birthday gift with his birthstone, something she does for anyone she loves. For Squalo, he has plenty of jewelry and charms with aquamarine, but his favorite (though he'd never fully admit it to her) is the bloodstone locket that has the Varia logo on it with a picture of him and Xanxus inside. She got it for him for his first birthday after he became part of the Varia; the bloodstone being both March's second birthstone and a bad joke about him being an assassin now.

Nowadays, when she visits him, she tends to fuss over his hair a little. Celeste knows full well that he can take care of himself and his hair is doing just fine with how he cares for it, obviously. However, as someone with really long hair herself, she instinctively wants to take care of it for him. In fact, she tends to fuss over his health in general, if he gets snippy about it she will point out all his near-death experiences and how he cut off his own hand when he was young. In her eyes, this perfectly warrants her concerns over him.

Bel/Belphegor: Since she was a little girl and knew she wanted a family of her own, Celeste would go on and on about wanting twins. As she got older and older, she was certain one day she'd have twin sons. And well... She wasn't wrong per se, but the method wasn't exactly conventional at all.

She met Bel and Rasiel when they were 4 years old, or more specifically, 3 years old and 11 months. She was in their kingdom after their father contacted the Giglio Nero Famiglia, wanting to discuss the idea joining the mafia life. She was hesitant at first, but after learning he had young sons and running the idea of the visit past Aria, she couldn't help agreeing. Thus, her and the then 12 year old Aria, ending up staying in their kingdom for almost a year. She thought she'd be getting into a situation where the boys were loved dearly by others and that their father was an actual parent to them. That was not the case and she was so angry for the sake of both boys. If she could've, she would've killed their father a million times over and taken them far away from there. The only thing that held her back is the risk that regicide would pose for Aria and the Giglio Nero Famiglia as a whole.

Bel's first memory of Celeste is of him opening a birthday gift she got him. The toy inside was a simple stuffed animal, but it was a mink stuffed animal. To a little him, the fact she took effort in getting him his specific favorite animal instead of just grabbing him something generic meant the world. To this day he has that toy, far more weathered and aged, but still the same. Its also where his dear box animal, Mink, gets its name from.

Celeste tried everything she could to get the boys to stop fighting each other entirely. She could get them to pause for moments, namely by distracting them with activities or singing for them, but it'd never last for too long. Even so, she never yelled or used force or do anything that could hurt them forever. She'd gentle scold, explain why the actions were wrong, then tend to any injuries that may have happened or would clean them both up.

She did everything she could to make sure both twins knew they were loved, but especially Bel. She knew the pains of being the spare heir(ess) very well herself. She knew what it felt like to have everyone's eyes on an older sibling rather than you. So she made sure he knew that she was always there for him. That her eyes were always on him too, not just on Rasiel. Celeste also did this by giving both unique and kinda silly nicknames. Bel's are: Little prince, mon loup, and Baby-Bel Cheese. She still calls Bel these to this day.

I don't think we're ever given a proper timeline as to when the twins gave each other laxative and worms. So! When Bel got sick after being force fed worms by his brother, Celeste stayed right by his side. She took care of him and made sure he got better instead of force. At the time, he was bitter because she'd done the same for Rasiel a week earlier when he poisoned him. However now, whenever he's sick, he will often find himself missing her soft words and gentle touch and how she'd only leave to get things he needed, to check on Aria, or when he was asleep.

Both of them equally hate when she had to leave and leave him behind. Celeste just also hates that she had to leave Rasiel behind too given she loved both twins as her own after all.

Celeste met him again basically right after he joined the Varia. When Viper had called her and said they had a gift for her, one of her lost babies wasn't what she'd expected. But she was so happy to have Bel back in her life, even if she couldn't be right there for him full time. Of course it hurt to learn Rasiel was gone, but she'd never tell him that directly. And it's not like it was a big surprise to learn given that she was the only trying to actively curb their violent tendencies towards each other, there was a part of her that figured one of them would end up killing the other as much as it hurt to think.

To this day, he's the Varia member she spends the most time with outside of Viper. She loves taking him out to places he wants to see or to events or even just short shopping trips. She wants to give Bel the best sense of normalcy that she can despite his upbringing and the fact both of them are so deeply involved in the mafia. As, she knows he'll never fully be able to get it for himself.

Lussuria and Levi: Combining these two because there's not much to them and her! However, that doesn't mean she doesn't care for them at all. She simply didn't get to know them well until after Xanxus got frozen. Celeste did small thing for them to show she cares for them too. Though, her biggest act involving one of them has to be when she bought Lussuria a whole set of diamond jewelry (necklace, bracelets, and earrings) because he's an April birthday like her.

Xanxus: On all level except physical, Xanxus is her son. That's how she sees it at least. They met at a Vongola party when a then 8 year old Aria dragged a less than happy 8 year old Xanxus right up to her, declaring the boy her new best friend. From that day on, he became her own son in her heart. She hated Timoteo, but she was willing to set all of that completely aside so Xanxus could spend time with her and Aria. She doted on him like any spoiling mother would. She showered him with attention and praise. She helped him with homework and made sure to reward his good grades. But she knew that she wasn't the one he wanted that from.

Celeste wasn't stupid. She knew all the boy wanted was his father's acknowledgement. Part of her wanted to fight Timoteo until he gave Xanxus what he wanted. In her eyes, her baby was more than deserving of it. But she held back, knowing it'd just hurt him if he ever learned she had to step in to get him what he wanted most. And she doesn't want him in pain after all. She didn't know what eventually caused Xanxus to hate Timoteo too, but she supported him.

For her, like with the rest of the mafia world, Xanxus simply disappeared. She mourned like any mother would when their child is missing without a trace. However, it wasn't hard for her to learn the real story from the others she's close to in the Varia. She was pissed, beyond pissed even when she learned. At Timoteo, at the rest of Vongola, at the rest of mafia in general, and even at herself.

To her, she failed Xanxus. She didn't love him enough clearly. She didn't give him everything he needed, that's what caused this. Maybe she should've fought Timoteo into give Xanxus the attention he wanted, even if it hurt him emotionally. Hurt feelings are better than being frozen in ice after all... She should've done more for him...

The main reason she hates the rest of the mafia for this though is for a simple reason: They don't miss her son. They miss Timoteo's heir. They don't miss the boy who always struggled getting up in the morning after sleepover with Aria. They don't miss the boy she helped finish hard math homework. They don't miss the boy who loves ligers, who's favorite color is orange, and who loves to read. They don't miss the boy who'd struggle to fall back asleep after a nightmare. They don't miss the boy she taught to swim. They don't miss the boy she carried to bed when he and Aria fell asleep on her couch. They don't miss that Xanxus, her Xanxus. They miss the Vongola Decimo candidate, Xanxus.

For every year he was frozen, she still got birthday gifts for him. Of course, she wasn't sure if he'd actually like them at that point, but she took an educated guess of what he might've liked as he got older. His first birthday after he got unfrozen, she sent him every last one of those gifts.

Nowadays, she still love him with all her heart as her son. He'll always be her baby after all. But, he's not a kid anymore and she knows it. He doesn't need her to hold her to hold his hand and guide him around anymore. Her little boy is all grown up now. Yet... She can't stop herself from showing him her love the same ways still. She can't help herself from fixing his hair when there's a part out of place. She still calls him all the little nicknames she came up with for young him. She still buys him opal cufflinks and suit pins and more for his birthdays.

She also will still carry him to bed if he falls asleep around her. And I do mean will, she can be frighteningly strong when she wants to be.

Also this applies to Squalo, Bel, and Xanxus. But she does loves sharing those "embarrassing" stories parents will tell about their kids. Like odd games they played, silly mishaps they had, and things like that.