#is literally a shell of himself at this point and i hate it. it actually turns my stomach sometimes because it all is so wrong

[n0n-sen-se]

💌 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐫. . .

includes ;; genya, muichiro content ;; pure fluff. a/n ;; stresstember eh? the perfect time to indulge in some adorable escapism! (´｡• ◡ •｡`) ♡

☆☆☆ # genya shinazugawa !

genya regularly receives check-ups at the Butterfly Mansion, thus you tend to bump into him a ton!

this is where things start to take a turn. . . he stops getting so angry and quick to shut you down. . . and instead, he starts watching you train a little more, keeping idle tabs on your schedule, daydreaming of you when he should be focusing on training. . .

then it hits him:

he's got a crush ?!

to this boy love literally feels lethal.

he can't function. at all. he's unable to stand or talk to you for more than a few seconds without becoming flustered and wracked with nerves.

so loving you from afar is the simplest-easiest option.

he stares a ton, and tries hard not to get caught.

daydreams when he shouldn't- and at the worst times- you can only get punched in the face while training so many times before you start to wonder if having a crush is really worth it.

i'm pretty sure anyone could see the reason this quick-tempered boy suddenly turns shy when he's around you.

and he hates admitting it. (what is he supposed to do? he's never been in love before?)

there are times when he's 100% undoubtably sure that you're busy- or far, far away from the scene of the crime. . . he'll sneak into your room (after double checking that the coast is clear, again) he'll leave a few wildflowers next to your nightstand.

just the thought that he's showing romantic affection towards you has his heart palpitating. . . even if it is, technically indirect.

has him paranoid as hell, like somehow even after all his precautions, you'll just know it was him. if you suspect him, or bring it up, he'll vehemently deny everything.

(whenever he leaves flower btw, it'll be up to a week before he works up the courage to bring another bunch, and in between he tries to garner the courage to talk to you. . . without success)

he'd actually get pretty comfortable with this scenario, and eventually saves up enough to produce a small vase to hold all the flowers.

and it feels like the biggest step yet!

its a painfully simple pot, and he feels he could do better, but he's tied a woven red string around the neck to help. . . at least a little.

you know. . . in the future he could tie notes to it. the thought has his ears burning red hot, and he flees the scene just as quickly.

☆☆☆ # muichiro tokito !

honestly, it doesn't fully occur to him that he is a secret admirer at first.

he just one day happens to notice you because you caught his eye. nothing in particular, there was just something. . . bright about your presence.

your eyes? your smile? who could really say. all he knows is that your very interesting to look at when you're around.

even your voice catches his attention, like the sound of bells to his ears. its calming and also so alluring? how are you able to charm him like this?

the couple times you caught him staring he looked away quickly, then he starts wondering why he's afraid of being caught?

that's when the idea of an idea starts to form in his head.

a crush!

honestly, i think he'd smile to himself at the thought. its all very confusing and all very new and exciting!

he'd stare a ton and try to be subtle. . . but then fail at that too. (at this point he's just standing beside a tree rather than behind it?)

muichiro gifts you things that remind him of you: things that are eye-catching and interesting to him.

. . . something that holds his attention as much as you do. . .

mostly things he's found, like the shiniest shells or rocks, broken ornaments or porcelain he's found. the best would probably be a tiny pearl he. . . acquired.

instructs his crow to deliver them to you, which in turn means you get hit in the head with said object- you don't need a more obvious clue to know that his crow hates. your. guts. (don't worry she's just a little jealous)

at first, he completely forgets that he's sent anything to you at all.

until he see's you holding them and it all connects.

silently hopes you to make the connection too. and i don't think he'd mind being caught at all. (its kind of like a fun game he's playing, that subsequently causes the faintest blush to appear across the bridge of his nose)

thinks about you maybe a bit too much, and starts to get excited at the prospect of being in love or a relationship! what would it be like to hold your hand, or even have all of your attention for once? (now he's just smiling up at the clouds like an adorable idiot)

if he writes anything (a note?) its just doodles and drawings he's done that he then hands over to his crow to deliver.

actually very fond of leaving you snacks too. . . or straight up offering to share while (innocently) asking you what ❛all those things in your hands❜ are.

[koralinewrites]

Okay so I’m having Lost Eden thoughts and I need to rant about it. I know people don’t like it, but Laito’s route is actually so good in this game. Something I like about it is that it shows more of the ‘family’ side of the Sakamaki’s, something you don’t really ever get in other games, besides the occasional show of brotherly love from Ayato. But okay, back to Lost Eden. There will be spoilers for the story below.

For those who don’t know, basically Karheinz dies and gives his ‘Demon King’ powers to whoever you pick to romance. The bad thing about this is that Laito wants NOTHING to do with Karlheinz or his powers; he’d rather not remember that he was related to that man. 

Something I like to think of is that when Laito doesn’t want to acknowledge something uncomfortable, he just stuffs it in a glass jar in his mind and closes the lid as tight as possible. What this results in is something that would normally be just the tiniest slip of those emotions becomes a giant explosion of everything that was pushed down. When this man breaks, he breaks HARD.

This is shown well in Dark Fate when he learns what Karlheinz did (the fact that everything — his and his family’s trauma — was an experiment and carefully planned). But I’ve already made a post about Laito’s crashout and this is about Lost Eden.

ANYWAYS, (I’m summarizing and skipping things just to get my point across, so I’d suggest reading the translations if you want the full story) Laito ends up making a deal with Kino to kill his brothers. The thought process is that ‘oh, my brothers don’t care for me so this should be fine’ or something similar.

This thought process is QUICKLY proven incorrect by Ayato when the two are facing off. It’s Laito vs Ayato, Laito trying to kill Ayato. Ayato doesn’t fight back besides defending himself, and he basically yells at Laito about how MUCH he and the rest of the brothers actually do care for and worry about him. Ever since Laito got Karlheinz’s powers, he was more irritable and worse mentally than before, and the others RECOGNIZED that. And they were worried for their brother.

This realization kinda shell-shocks Laito, enough to not kill his brothers. This part makes me so sick (in the best way) because it’s basically just Ayato shaking Laito, being like “Yes, dumbass, we’re worried sick about you because we fucking care!” And Laito’s just “…you guys… care…?”

Another example of the familial relationship shown in this game is when Yui gets kidnapped by Kino and taken away to wherever he lives. Laito is about ready to CRASH OUT at that point, and the others recognize that. So what do they do?

THEY LOOK FOR YUI.

They try to figure out where Yui is FOR LAITO’S SAKE. And Laito himself is, once again, stunned. That they’re being nice, that they care.

And the answer his brain comes up with is that “Oh, you’re just scared that I can kill you with the powers I have.”

This part is quite funny, as Ayato is like “oh, motherfucker AGAIN?!! How many times do we have to TEACH YOU THIS LESSON???? THAT WE CARE????”

But it gets better when fucking SHU chimes in with something akin to “Is that REALLY the only reason you think we’d be helping you…?” And when Laito says “duh?” Shu just… gives the biggest sigh and replies like “Y’know what, believe what you want. I’m not fighting this.”

(All dialogue is paraphrased to get the point across, seriously go read translations cause they do a way better job-)

But THIS is why I can’t hate Lost Eden. This, right here, the fact that, okay YES it’s the bare minimum when it comes to familial relationships, but it shows that they actually CARE. That they CAN be a true family, that they CAN worry for each other, that they CAN help each other. And something so tragic is that Laito almost basically refuses to see it, despite them literally yelling at him and waving big signs in front of his face.

There’s nothing anyone can say to make me dislike this game, at least Laito’s route. Because, in a route where you’re basically alone most of the time with only one or two other brothers talking to you besides Laito, these family moments are so pure and I cherish every one.

[brekkie-e]

Something I think about a lot when it comes to the Vallaslin debacle- whether they should be maintained as a tradition in the future and what they meant in the past- is Felassan's place in the rebellion.

Felassan and Vallaslin theory under the cut.

We see some of Solas's agent's in Trespasser, Tevinter Night's, and other media. And it's a bit of a toss up whether an ancient elf who serves Solas has Vallaslin or not. Based off the info we have about the rebellion and what the Vallaslin were, one would assume anyone who makes it to Solas's side wants theirs off. Isn't that notion backed up by the murals we see in Inquisition? Solas taking off Vallaslin by the dozens?

Which brings us back to the agents who still wear them. The first thought that jumps into my head is, "Oh, these must be spies then. People who opted to keep them as a way of offering a specific service to The Cause™️."

And…. That brings me back to Felassan. He's not a spy. He's a general. One might argue he could have fulfilled the role of a spy at some point or another. But in TME- he's not working overly hard to fit in. The guy is unapologetically behaving as himself. He doesn't care if he actually believably passes as a Dalish guy. Sure, he brings up old tales, but the whole time he's practically begging Briala to ask him if he's really Dalish.

In the memories we see of him and Solas, he's a second in command. He's leading people on battlefields. There's literally nothing he does in the name of subtlety. I don’t really see him as a character who has “cut out for spy work” in their resume.

So why does he still have Vallaslin? If any free elf of Solas's time wanted them gone, if they served no deeper cultural purpose than to mark someone as property, Felassan's decision to keep them is called in to question. His role in the rebellion that we get to witness would make sending him to spy a moot point. He's a known entity. He's the Wolf's right hand. So why does the Wolf's right hand wear the very thing that Solas hates on his face with no shame? The codexes he wrote in Veilgaurd don’t scream to me that he carried any significant devotion to Mythal, let alone in a capacity that rivaled Solas’. In TME, he tosses out “Mythal’s tit’s” or “Mythal’s bosom” whenever he finds the chance. So why would Felassan keep a mark of fealty to her when Solas, in contrast, does not.

My point being is, I stand by the idea that even before the Dalish- the Vallaslin meant something to the Elvhen people beyond slavery. To maintain such specific designs through the ages after Elvhenan fell- they had to have maintained the tradition from day one. Fought tooth and nail to keep it from dying out during the Empire's reign. When an Inquisitor tells Solas they want to keep them, he honestly reacts like it’s not the first time he’s heard that response before. Which makes sense when you think of his closeness to Felassan. I wonder if she reminded him of his friend in that moment.

Whether the writer's want us to think they were maintained with full understanding of what they were from the jump, I don't know. But it's the only conclusion I have ever been able to come to that makes any sense to me. It has never been a possibility to me that they only began the tradition of wearing them again once they made home in the Dales.

This is full fanon territory now, but here are some of my thoughts on what they might have began as. With the revelation of the Elvhen connection to spirits, perhaps it was a way to signify which variety of spirit you originated from. I know Felassan gives off the impression that he’s younger than Solas, but I still think he was a spirit that made a body. “He sat crossed-legged, calmed his breathing until he found his true self inside the shell of his flesh, and sprinkled the herbs over the fire.” This is a line in the last few pages of TME, and I don’t know about you but that sounds like someone who feels they’re a spirit inside a meat suit to me. Now, we all saw how much Solas looked like Mythal’s Vallaslin as a spirit. Part of my theory here is that her Vallaslin wasn’t a direct copy of him, but an homage to the archetype of spirit they were. If I had to make an educated guess, I would say Felassan was a wisdom spirit. His dynamic with Briala is based on guiding her to conclusions and helping her figure things out on her own. Not unlike Solas and the Inquisitor. Except Felassan looked at the young woman thousands of years his junior and developed a paternal bond with her instead of a romantic one because he’s a king with standards. Point being, if the original wisdom spirits gravitated to looking like Solas- then Felassan might have looked like that as well at one point.

I don’t think I’m the first person to wonder if the Vallaslin were all based off the Evanuris’ spirit forms, but I keep getting caught up in how that began. There’s something interesting to me about wondering if they had a hard time adjusting to their new bodies and way they experienced emotions similarly to how Cole did. Solas talks at some point about how feelings worked differently in the Fade. I can’t help but wonder if the very first Vallaslin were an attempt to identify themselves. Put their true nature on their face since it was now hidden behind a flesh mask. If it helped old friends recognize one another despite new forms.

I also like this because of how it would mean that the Dalish wouldn’t necessarily have the core concept behind the Vallaslin wrong. They have placed a misguided religious notion on it, but in the end the decision of which god they honor with their Vallaslin is also a declaration of which spirit they identify with most. It declares something about their nature that others can discern just by seeing the marks on their face. The real reason behind the practice may have been lost but in some round about way the purpose was not.

Now, I should note that there are a few holes in my theory. I don’t know that I think they entirely sink it because so much of the lore has layers, but they’re there. The first is the fact Dirth’amen and Falon’din seem to be one spirit split in two. Whether that happened before they took a body or not, I’m unsure. If the split happened before- I don’t think that detracts from my musings because it means they could have developed further into fully realized separate spirits. But if it happened after it does beg the question why people would give them seperate Vallaslin outside of slave marking purposes. The other, and most damning, point is Cole’s line about Solas burning Mythal’s mark off his face. If the mark was to represent his spirit nature then why would it be referred to as her mark as opposed to his? Unless the line between Vallaslin for self expression and slave brands was blurred very early on. Though, it’s still not out of the realm of possibility that it began as one thing and by the time he got rid of his marks it meant another.

Anyways, regardless of the origins and my theories- we have atleast one significant Ancient Elvhen character who had every reason to remove his Vallaslin but didn’t. So when asking questions about the future of the Dalish and this custom- I’m always going to keep Felassan in the back of my mind. If someone who lived the worst of their cultural meaning, and was incredibly close to Solas still opted to keep his then the modern Dalish have every right to as well.

The irony of using Felassan, the certified Dalish Hater, to advocate for Dalish cultural value is not lost on me. I don’t apologize.

[moonsaver]

I READ YOUR POST (and also anon!) ABOUT REBELLIOUS! VERITAS/RATIO, GOOD LORD..

Your writing is very good! And I like it! I'm having it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, everytime

BUT LIKE, LISTEN TO ME, WHAT IF S/O WAS REBELLIOUS LIKE HIM TOO. But not like actually him, just typical rebellious student back then. Like, breaking the rules, pissing off the teachers, etc

AND, HIS S/O IS LIKE NOW, NORMAL. A PROFESIONAL, and probably embarrassed of their phase back then. I do see them being Friendly and chilled with Ratio?? Or like "Oh crap, it's the old rebellious dude that tries to teach me random smart stuffs"

But in my opinion, I do see S/O just being like "Oh, what's up Ratio" and just being neutral. Greeting him whenever they passed by or see each other again, while also slightly joking about the things Ratio tried to teach them back then. As they told him that they actually listened to his teaching.. Even though it's.. Well, it's used by unsuccessful methods

BUT ALSO, YOU KNOW HOW XINYAN WOULD TELL EMBARRASSING STORIES ABOUT SHEHNE AND GANYU?

S/O WOULD DO THAT, telling Ratio old rebellious phase embarrassing stories to his students whenever they feel afraid of him. Like

"Oh, did you know that your professor (Veritas Ratio), used to talk so much about our teacher that just give the slightest wrong formula, to the point he keeps getting send to the office? Hah! I was there!"

As Ratio stood there with hidden embarrassed look, as he tries to hold the urge to not shut S/O up.

I'M SORRY IF I'M BOTHERING YOU, THE VOICES ARE COMMANDING ME... THE VOICES OF MY SIMPING FOR RATIO.

QNON ANON QNON!!!!YOU ARE FEEDING ME TOO I PROMISE YOU CAN BOTHER ME (its not even bothering me i love these asks),,, THE TENSION THAT IUST DISSIPATWS HAHAHA WAIT WAIT

Under the cut,might be long!

Soso, you're the rebellious kid who's butting heads with the other jerkwad, the only difference between you two is that he's just a nerd on top of being a rebellious kid. He's the "worst" of both worlds.

It's a very cliche enemies to strangers to acquaintances who respect each other to tension between possible lovers. Its kind of funny.

In your student days, I imagine the moment both of you see each other in the hall, you scowl at each other. Or make fun of something the other has. Maybe he's lugging a bulky art project and you make fun of him saying he looks like a turtle dragging his own shell. Maybe you left your bag's zip open and Veritas comments on how "devoid of knowledge" it is, "like your head" (you forgot all your books somewhere, your bag is completely empty). God forbid either of you tried something experimental and the other catches a glimpse of it. If they're not within talking distance, they'll shout on the top of their lungs. To both of you, the louder it is the more humiliation is involved. You'll find this method is often used by Veritas, as he openly quizzes you and chides LOUDLY that you're a BUFFOON and an IDIOT for not knowing a SIMPLE FORMULA. You decide to retaliate by stealing more than half his stationary, so now he has to scramble to gather extras and literally no one helps him cause he's a jerk lol.

Everyone on campus absolutely either hates it or loves it. Theres fanpages of you two with cringe edits,or those really well-made shitpost ones. Sometimes your classmates just bait the other to go a certain place just so you two cross paths and stir up a lot of trouble. The teachers are all done with both of you.

Cut to the future (or present?), reader's a professor too now. Let's assume either of them is unaware when they join the job (as implied by the request).

I imagine professor reader, if they manage to stay calm and just.. talk normally, it does give Dr. Ratio some whiplash. His pride demands he straightens himself out though, so it's not too soon before he himself drones on about some or the other tedious topic. You mention the past and how often you used to butt heads, and Veritas' first instinct is to immediately retaliate the way his past self would have done; but he stops himself in time, and sighs at it. You've painstakingly ingrained that response into him. But he's still slightly embarrassed nonetheless. It's not too soon before the conversation becomes more relaxed (I mean.. considering Veritas,as relaxed as he lets it be), and as a form of "nostalgia" he brings up all the questions he used to ask you back then, only to be pleasantly surprised when you give him detailed but professional answers. It's not too soon before he learns that you've become a professor aswell. Dr. Ratio congratulates you – with reservations of course, which is completely thrown out the window when you tell him you knew all of this because.. you listened to him.

Ugh. Don't make him feel so sappy. A part of him detests it; warming up and being all chummy with a hopeless classmate of all people. But a part of him is.. kind of happy about it.

Which is promptly changed the moment you also realize he's a professor now.

And that his students aren't spared from the nostalgia either.

He's bursting through the door, jaw dropped, angry and shocked face as you prattle on about how much of an asshole he was back in the day to his students. For a moment, he contemplates whether he should just throw chalk at you and make an example of you to his students, or drag you out. After a few seconds of paralyzed contemplation, he immediately grabs you by the back of your collar and drags you out before something else comes out of your mouth.

It's almost the same all over again – both of you bickering back and forth as he's all pissy about you spilling everything to his students! You've positively tarnished his reputation! Perhaps he shall tell your students how you used to walk around wearing a lanyard and a shirt with the institution name written on it in big, bold letters on the first day? Or that time you tripped and faceplanted right into the trashcan while you complained about his (axe bodyspray) deodorant?

Ugh.. he'll just deal with you later. Although he won't admit this even to himself.. it's nice seeing you again. He didn't think of that, it must be the headache you gave him that's making him think all weird.

--

[coffeesleep-ooc]

LiuShen thoughts

Im unsure why, but im obsessed with this ship. LQG’s devotion to someone he once hated is amazing, we know that his character is always righteous and follows his principles to the extreme, which usually doesn’t make him as approachable to common ppl or ppl in general. But there’s something about SY!SQQ getting under his skin and wife beaming him softly bit constantly? To the point that LQG has no idea when he started to love the man that he believes tried to kill him when they were disciples. I love that.

But it makes me really sad when authors subtly make SQQ ooc, like, i won’t declare myself an authority in sv or in SY or anything, but sometimes LiuShen ends up feeling a bit too much like Wangxian? With the stoic type and the flirty type???? SQQ does tease LQG but he does not flirt! That man is 100% heterosexual in his head until you break thru his extra large concrete walls, and once you do he completely shuts down for the rest of his life, he becomes a shy stuttering mess and when he finally realizes he is actually in a relationship with a man that he actually does love, he is not going to call him love, beloved, husband, etc unless he literally is convinced that he has no choice (this tsun lil shit), so it’s so weird for me when SQQ is the one to initiate so boldly fully knowing what he is doing??? It feels ooc to me. LiuShen is completely slowburn unless we are stepping away from the canon settings or a third party interferes a lot. LQG would be the type to be shy but also be upfront about his feelings but managing to make Shen oblivious Qingqiu think that Liu-shidi is truly a good friend, a good shidi, etc etc! They are both shy flustered messes (LQG less so but still flustered) and once they are married SQQ will totally pretend he doesn’t need small or big gestures of affection and LQG will pretend he doesn’t notice SQQ wants those said gestures while doing them anyway. I believe their love is not super flashy like BingQiu’s can be, but everyone knows that SQQ is obsessed with LQG and vice versa! SQQ is a creature of blatant obsession while denying it to himself, and LQG is a creature if firmness and loyalty, i also think he is so awkward bc he feels deeply (tho this is more of a headcanon to me) so everyone would know and watch for the day they finally acknowledge it dammit!

I think that BingQiu has balance in a way that LiuShen doesn’t, bc LiuShen are both shy and usually won’t take the first step unless something extreme happens, LBH brings SQQ out of his shell almost by force (SQQ still loves him in canon but the methods are wince-worthy) and that’s something LQG doesn’t do! I wouldn’t say it’s good or bad, the storytelling sometimes needs one or the other, but it’s true that it makes everything between LiuShen softer and less angsty (again, depending on the story you are telling), both pairings have the identity issue, but i believe in LiuShen is often overlooked that it would be a bit more hard for LQG than for LBH (the amount of time they passed with SJ!SQQ varies wildly) to accept everything happening after SY comes to that world without a proper explanation. But again, LQG thinks is amnesia and accepts the new SQQ just fine in sv so…

anyways, if you are here thanks for reading my thoughts rant on LiuShen characterization <3

[ro-bee]

It's too wrong that I kinda maybe wanna see a "bad ending" pupigoat au? Like we're Goat doesn't find out Kiran's plans until it's too late and Kiran already has the crown back, something something doomed yaouri something something

In my head, there is two ways a tragic version of the pupigoat au could go but I cant decide what route I like the most. One is Kiran getting to the "killing Goat" part of the plan and realizing that it isn't what he actually wanted and wanting to abort the plan but for some reason he can't bring them back (at least until well into late-game, like with Narinder in canon if you choose not to spare him) and he has killed his own children and siblings for this and it was all for nothing and he's free but he's completely alone and it's all his fault... well, at least, he gets to reunite with this siblings (and children, but he already does in the regular timeline, so that's besides the point) in this timeline but not before some 100 to 200 years worth of depression so yay...?

Or the alternative route (in my mind at least), where Kiran actually fully goes through with the plan and it's less "everything sucks forever and Kirander is drowning in depression and self-brought grief" and more Kiran goes full self-gaslighting mode as he sits alone for thousands and millions of years as he slowly waits for life to grow back to what it once, dulling himself with "This is what I wanted, its all going according to plan. Once the plan it's finished and life is back, then I'll be happy and it'll all been worth it" as he totally 100% absolutely doesn't slowly become kinda insane and not all mentally there in his own denial, deeply buried grief and genuine complete loneliness (as he is not just without everyone he once care about, this version is literally the only bring left for quite a fucking while). This timeline is just every trauma TOWW gets in his/their imprisonment times 100 billion so good times.

(Sorry for this insanely long ask, I just love your au and character so much and I'm very biased towards tragic endings and alternative versions of stories that reveal aspects and facets of characters that we could never get in their regular form. I hope you like my insanity and mental illnesses as much I liked writing it lol)

Long anon 🔥🔥🔥🔥♥♥♥♥

We can absolutely have a bad ending because of course!!! We have one in original game why not having one here >:)

My favorite for now is the first one you wrote because think about it... Kiran bringing goat back because of regrets and loneliness but he does that for last... First he takes care of his siblings and the pups but things don't go as he planned, his siblings still hate him, they don't have their crowns anymore but that doesn't mean they will make kiki's life easier... And the pups? What if they don't come out right...? What if now they're doomed to a cursed life or worse now they also hate him because they realized how selfish his plan was 👁👁

So as a last resort he brings back goat but that only makes things worse for him because at best he now has to live with a killing machine that hates his guts (why best? Because at least they can talk when they fight) and at worst an empty shell of someone that he once loved

Incurable catatonic goat... Uhg ouch

Anyway you sent me another ask let me go answer that really quick 🏃‍♂️

[music-interpretation-review]

Feeling Emotions Song Tournament Round 2

Sometimes a song just hits you right in the heart and might even find you falling to the floor in tears. Or the joy it brings you is so palpable you can't help but dance. Submitters were asked to include propaganda to make their case for why their choice was the most emotional song and now you get to vote!

The Dark I Know Well propaganda by anon:

(cw: child abuse, sexual abuse, incest)

You say all you want is just a kiss goodnight Then you hold me and you whisper “Child, the Lord won’t mind” It’s just you and me. Child, you’re a beauty

In the scene preceding the song, Martha tells her friends that her father beats her with a belt and, at one point, locked her out the house at night. She asks her friends not to tell anyone, for fear that her parents would “throw her out for good,” like what happened to Ilse. The song starts after the conversation between Martha and her friends.

“The Dark I Know Well” is a heartbreaking song about child sexual abuse and incest. In the song, Martha describes the part of her abuse that she cannot tell her friends about—the sexual abuse she has experienced at the hands of her father—, and Ilse eventually joins in and recounts her own experiences with CSA. Ilse and Martha’s feelings of anger and fear really show through vividly in both the lyrics and the actresses’ performances, and it’s absolutely devastating to watch/listen to.

One Step Ahead propaganda by anon:

(cw: Spies Are Forever spoilers)

One step ahead, you played me from the start Well, look at you, without a clue You know you broke my heart

gay love cold war fake death gay divorce. tfw you thought you killed the love of your life but he was actually alive and plotting your downfall the entire time!!! they give me actual physical symptoms. background: Owen "died" on a mission 4 years before the main plot of the show. Curt blamed himself, quit his job, and grew an ugly ass beard - but he's back for one last mission to defeat a villain he later discovers is his "dead" partner.

this song is not only Curt trying to save the world from Owen's scheme but also their official breakup. ugh. the "old buddy/ old pal" the "I'm sorry, my old friend" they sound so fucking bitter and so so sad the way they can't even face the fact they used to be in love. "this is it, we're done/we're through" like HELLOOO. for the past 4 years Owen hasn't been Curt's ex, he's been his dead boyfriend. Curt hasn't been Owen's ex, he's been the man who left him for dead. only when they are literally fighting over the fate of the world do they take the time to officialise their breakup. like do i even NEED to go into "don't deny, I was the better spy/ I liked you better when you were dead" I HATE THEMMM. in Owen's mind he's made such a villain of Curt that he can't accept him as an equal. but Curt can't even think about that bc he just wishes he'd been able to mourn the man he loved, and not the spiteful shell of Owen's former self that's trying to go full fuckin Big Brother on the whole world!!

tl;dr Owen spends this whole song mocking Curt for not being able to stop him (because he is One Step Ahead) while Curt is trying to push aside his grief and anger and confusion so he can stop his ex's evil scheme. my fav doomed yaoi (60s spies from a 2015 musical)

[insult-2-injury]

Scream Queen - Part 1/2

Gojo Satoru/FemReader

When it comes to horror films, Gojo considers himself a connoisseur. He knows a good chase when he sees one, and he's had his sights set on you for a long time.

AO3 Link

NSFW, 6.3k wc, porn with plot, dirty talk, fingering, pussy eating, masturbation, mild predator/prey

Part 1

Gojo had picked the horror flick that night. Had insisted it was critically acclaimed. But it was just some campy thing where the heroine was running all too slow down a flickering hallway, her screams serving only to alert the pursuing monster of her exact location. The woman’s hair was as beautifully curled as when she’d arrived, her skirt hiked up to her upper thighs, tank top torn in a way that left little to the imagination. 

“‘Amazing cinematography’ my ass,” you mumbled. You lay sleepily on Gojo’s couch, head in his lap, his fingers carding through your hair.

“You don’t like?” 

“She’s tripped over six times.”

“Yeahhh she’s a little clumsy,” he agreed. “But try and think about it this way: every time she stumbles, her tits go bananas. I mean talk about breaking the fourth wall.”

The woman ran into a room, barricading the door with just a weak press of her shoulder, weeping hysterically. You pointed at the screen, livid. “I can literally see a cameraman standing in the corner! Critically acclaimed? Really?”

“Yeah. Critically acclaimed by my penis.” He frowned. “Did I not say that?”

“No, actually, you failed to mention that, deviant.”

The tug of sleep was beginning to draw your eyes closed, the warmth of his thigh and the drone of shitty TV lulling you into a dreamlike trance. It was a rare occasion that you didn’t like the movies Gojo picked out; in fact this was a first. He actually had a surprising eye for pretty things and a knack for picking out quality flicks you’d never even heard of. But this was… decidedly un-epic.

The sound of wood splintering through indicated the start of yet another chase sequence that you couldn't care less about witnessing.

“Couldn’t be me,” you mumbled, melting further into his lap with a deep sigh, eyes finally closing. “I’m fast as fuck.”

“Yeah?” His voice held more than a touch of amusement. “You’re alright.”

With a cursed technique that granted you a speed on par with the all famous Gojo Satoru, you’d fare more than alright in a horror film.

“You could never catch me.”

The fingers in your hair paused for a good minute before he responded.

“You think?” he said.

Your only response was a sleepy hum.

“Hm.” The fingers continued. “Alright.”

You were too tired to think much of it, honestly, or the fact that you had inadvertently issued a challenge to the most insufferably competitive man you’d ever met. 

As your breathing slowed, his touch switched almost absentmindedly to the shell of your exposed ear, sweeping softly along the curve of it. Back and forth. Goosebumps tracked down your arms and you shivered, pulling your legs so tight to your chest that they knocked into his. You opted to ignore the puff of amusement from above – not like you could help that his couch was so comfortable.

Not to mention his apartment was bafflingly huge compared to your 400 square foot rabbit cage – with one of those open plan living spaces boasting enough area to plant a giant sectional couch right smack in the middle of it. But for how filthy rich he was, the place wasn’t ostentatious at all. It was cozy. Blessedly quiet, too, in comparison, even with the constant murmur of background noise that you were convinced Gojo would drop dead without. 

His apartment had become somewhat of a home base in recent months for you to decompress after tough missions. It hadn’t been easy finding friends since your move to Tokyo. Not that Gojo had started out as anything close to one. You’d hated his guts at first, actually. Still did sometimes - your first meeting ending with you fuming and him grinning down at you like you were the funniest little creature. He had a habit of that, making people feel small, what with his 6 '3 string bean stature and a perma-smirk that did little to fight off the asshole allegations.

You weren’t sure if you could deign to call whatever this was a friendship, either, with the two of you pushing each other’s buttons like it was your sworn duty to do so. But the bickering was a strange sort of constant in your life, and jujutsu sorcerers didn’t get many of those. So you showed up here time and time again for what? Normalcy? Comfort? Something like that. You just took it for what it was, and Gojo was certainly never one to complain about company.

You dozed off to the thought of how surprisingly cushy his thigh was, even if he was built like a string bean.

A sharp pinch on your earlobe jolted you awake. In an instant, you’d snatched the offending wrist and pulled yourself up. “Ow! The hell was that about?!” 

“Whoopsie! Sorry ‘bout that.” Gojo shrunk back from you, his sheepish apology so comically phony he reminded you of a kitten caught testing its boundaries. “Got scared. Hand slipped.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Sheesh. Careful, no second chances with this one.” 

He was being extra annoying tonight, and you said as much. Grumpily, you released your hold of him and he made a real show of it: inspecting for bruises, rubbing at his wrist and shaking his hand out like he’d been in iron shackles. Worst of all, the movie seemed like it was only a little past the halfway point, which means he hadn’t let you sleep through much of it at all. 

“Well.” You clapped your hands together. “you’ve just got to fill me in on what I missed.”

He inhaled.

“Sarcasm.”

His bottom lip stuck out in a pout, his head falling against his shoulder as he regarded you.

“You’re so mean to me.”

With a dramatic huff, you turned and collapsed back into the couch beside him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the heels of your palms. With senses so finely attuned to Gojo’s impulsive tendencies by now, you blindly knocked his hand away with your forearm before he could reach out to aggressively ruffle your hair in retaliation.

Just as smug as he could be, you crossed your arms and smirked. You’d found he often liked to justify inciting violence by lecturing how a good sorcerer was always on their guard. Well, guess what.

“Who’s the strongest now, bitch? That’s twice now I’ve blocked your ass.”

You caught the tail end of his quiet, mournful suffering – “could’ve seriously been injured…” 

“You have a weak constitution.”

He pointed at himself, looking around the room as if to say ‘me?!’  You nodded solemnly.

“Uh oh, I smell jealousyyy,” he sang, fingers drumming a scattered beat on the leather behind your head.

“Yeah? What of?”

He raised his chin with a dazzling smile. “My dainty, effeminate wrists, of course!”

Despite your best attempt, you snorted a laugh. Damn if he didn’t look pleased as punch about it, too.

“Strongest,” you scoffed. “You can’t even stand up from the couch without groaning. Let’s get you home, grandpa…reduced to bone dust if someone tightened your watch band a little too hard–”

You let out an angry squeal when the fingers behind you finally seized the chance to reach up and tousle your hair– not in the cute little gesture of affection kind of way. More in the pure violence for violence sake kind of way. You threw your arms over your head, forehead tucking into your folded knees, shouting over his witchy cackle.

“Strongest guy at the bingo table more like! Stop. Stop!” You smacked at his accosting hand blindly but it was like swatting at a relentless swarm of bees. “THAT’S ENOUGH.”

With one final ruffle, he let you go. You threw him your fiercest scowl.

“I hate you.”

His fiendish laughter trailed into the low, drawn out sound of your name, hummed with a purring appreciation that had your stomach flipping oddly, twisting in knots. You froze. Dear lord, when had you gravitated so close to him? If you tipped your head back, you’d be lying on the crook of his elbow. 

Quickly, you averted your gaze and got to work on your hair, smoothing down the devastation he had wreaked upon it. But strangely, his touch never quite left you, knuckles stroking gently at the base of your neck in an unfamiliar act of intimacy. You waited for him to launch an attack again, but he didn’t. Just quietly kneaded his fingers into your spine. The whole thing left you feeling a little stranded by what seemed like an unnerving insinuation of closeness, gaining an invisible weight to it the longer it went uncontested by you.

You blinked and spouted the first lie you could conjure up.

“You make for a terrible pillow, by the way.”

He made a throaty noise of disappointment, studying you a moment longer before turning his attention back to the movie, touch abandoning your neck. “Come into my home…” 

“And I’ll walk right back out of it if you’re not careful.”

“Ooh, consider me scared!”

“You should be scared.”

“Don’t I know it.” His long form slouched impossibly further down into his seat, his fingers lacing over his chest before he barked out one startlingly loud laugh, as if he’d just remembered you’d said the funniest thing. “Careful,” he said, a self-satisfied grin beginning to creep across his lips. “You would hate careful.”

You frowned. “What–”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he waved you off. “You can do whatever you want.”

Your jaw clenched at the pet name. But still it took a moment for your brain to kick back into gear. It was just… the way he’d said it that gave you pause, like he knew something you didn’t.

“Shit movie,” was all you could think to say.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’, sitting there still with a far-too-pleased grin.

Hit with a sudden bout of nerves, you turned to the coffee table, which was littered with a variety of sweet snacks he’d fished out of his cupboard. Stomach already full and strongly protesting to anything more, you panic-swiped two kit kats and jammed them into your mouth, taking the opportunity to scooch yourself away from him.

For a guy whose cursed technique allowed him to control space, Gojo was awfully oblivious to the concept of it. He was a taker; give him room to spread and he would take it unapologetically. It was no different now, his long form stretching immediately into your space again. His knee chased yours almost mindlessly, leg knocking into yours, bouncing there with a fervor.

“Stop.”

He looked at you with a raised brow. “Heh?”

“You’re encroaching.” 

His gaze flicked down, noticing the personal space violation for the first time, blinking, making a small hum of decision. He leaned in close, murmuring into your ear. “Well here’s an idea, yeah?” He grabbed your knee with an outstretched palm. “Go on and walk right out of here, then.”

You could only pray the movie was loud enough that he didn’t hear your breath catch. God, his hands were huge, his long, spidery grip bleeding warmth across your lower thigh and knee.

The feel of Gojo’s breath swept across your cheek as he observed your reactions closely. And you couldn’t help but gulp as a different, more alarming heat burned its way slowly up your thigh like a lit wick.

A thumb brushed featherlight across your bare skin, the pads of his fingers beginning to crawl gently inward to tickle the sensitive skin at the inside of your knee. You quickly jerked your leg away.

“Here’s an idea,” you sputtered, fumbling to find anything clever to say and failing miserably, “stop… being the way that you are.”

“Uh. Alright.” Gojo scratched his head, pulling back to give you the space you thought you wanted. “Don’t know what you want me to do about that, really. Sheesh. What’s a guy to do? Not like I can stop being hot or a genius or whatever. You want me to just ‘say goodbye’ to my baby blues?” He cupped his palm over his mouth in hushed confidentiality. “My giant horse cock?”

You made a horrible retching sound.

He shrugged away your disgust. “Just sayin’, you’ve gotta see it to believe it.”

“Cut it out.”

It was like you’d told him there was strawberry cake on the ceiling the way his eyes lit up, rolled back in his skull, jaw dropping as he threw his head back in fake ecstasy. And you just knew what he was about to do.

Your fist pulled back to prepare what should’ve been a non-punch to his infinity. 

“Stop or I will punch all the way through you.”

In an outrageously high-pitched, shrill voice, Gojo moaned.

“Make me, daddy–!”

The words were cut short by a choked grunt as he allowed your fist to connect to the soft of his stomach. Hard. His head lolled backward, a long, appreciative groan slipping from between an open-mouthed grin. The slender column of his throat bobbed as the raunchy noise dissolved into giggles. And you might as well have been struck in the gut yourself with how violently you yanked yourself back from him.

Because Gojo Satoru was beautiful like this. In that stupid, unfair way that made you want to run your tongue up and down his neck just once to see if he was made of real flesh and blood. You shook the thought from your head.

“You’re so weird.”

“You think so?” he asked, voice just a touch raspy.

‘Yeah. I do.”

His eyes rolled coyly to the side to meet yours.

“Brat.”

“Pervert.”

Gojo lifted his head lazily, perfect tufts of snow white falling across his forehead, a dangerous grin stretching slow and wide across his face. “Babe, you have no idea.”

Your face heated, nerves shooting off like a flurry of butterfly wings in your chest. You wanted to hiss at him. What was he playing at anyway? He’d flirt with the likes of a potted fern, but still.

It wasn’t something you could afford to think too hard on. This was just who he was: an irredeemable flirt, someone who couldn’t help but poke around the edges of boundaries just to test the strength of the fenceline. A guy like him wasn’t interested in the long term, anyway, and probably wouldn’t last with someone who didn’t want to sit around and stroke his vanity all day. 

Besides, it was nobody’s business but your own whether you occasionally thought about how it might slap his thighs when he walked.

To your growing horror, you found yourself unable to tear your wide eyes away from his; gaping far too long to chalk it up to a mental hiccup. And he was eating it right up if his stupidly smug smirk was anything to go by. 

You fell back into your earlier TV watching position, but instead of settling your head in his lap like before, you curled yourself beside him, the crown of your head pressing against his outer thigh. Safer that way, better to avoid his gaze. Mortification burned bright and unbearable in your chest. 

“Stop staring. And stop calling me babe.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” you said sharply.

“Because,” Gojo considered, nodding, seeming to roll the word out on his tongue. He laughed, insincere. “Because! You’re so right.”

You remained stubbornly silent. The pad of his thumb dropped to smooth over the deepening scrunch of your brows and you barely allowed it to stay. It was just a thing with Gojo; his hands always had to be fiddling with something, touching something. And you were usually the closest thing.

That was all.

“Ya know, you get all twitchy when you’re nervous,” his voice purred from above. “You nervous?”

Having little hope that he missed the small shudder that tracked your spine, you craned your neck to shoot him a warning look. But the sight that greeted you had you forgetting how to breathe.

Gojo was studying you with a shocking intensity, the glowing Six Eyes flicking between yours like he was carefully mapping you out. The ghost of a fascinated, greedy sort of grin curled at one corner of his mouth, seeming only to deepen at the sight of your unease. You dropped your head back into the couch, squeezing your eyes shut to will away the stone of want that had lodged itself firmly at the base of your throat. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Never been able to stop you before,” you snipped.

Gojo hummed, undeterred. 

So sly that you hardly registered what he was doing until his shadow was looming over you, he repositioned himself, one leg sliding onto the couch so he could turn sideways to fully lean over your balled up form. With a quick move and a scooch forward, you found your head propped on his lap again.

A large palm cut off your furious protests, sliding to cup gently beneath your jaw, two fingers grazing over your clattering pulse. A calloused thumb slid across the seam of your downturned lips.

“Do you like feeling helpless?” he asked softly.

You stilled as a drop of startling heat slithered between your legs. His hand drifted down the column of your throat to follow the contraction of your nervous swallow, like he’d predicted it, like he was fine-tuning an instrument. Shit, you felt so small tucked into his lap like this.

You averted your eyes back to the movie.

“Serial killer question,” you said, wretchedly anxious with him peering down, every tiny response of yours seeming to be dissected and filed away for something sinister.

You pretended to be invested in whatever Oscar-worthy, nonsensical bullshit was happening on screen, the woman now captured in the monster's clutches. That is, until you were thrown headfirst into a crippling silence.

“Hey! I was watching that.”

The remote landed with a loud clatter on the coffee table. “Sorry, baby. Can’t have you holding out on me.”

And then suddenly, the real horror was right here in the dead quiet. The only light source was a soft overhead. With a burst of anger drawn up from a slowly drying well, you rolled onto your back, glowering up at him.

“Can I fucking help you?!”

“Mhmm.”

Your teeth clenched. “What are you even talking about, helpless?”

Gojo propped back on one hand and pretended to think about it. “Ah, you knowww. Scream queen style or whatever. When the cards are down and you’re all played out.” His eyes flicked down your form to where your hands twisted nervously into the bottom of your t-shirt. Then back up, voice dropping pensively. “So fast you’ve probably never felt it, though… being chased down like that, backed into a corner. Never been challenged the way you deserve, I bet. You like the thought of someone who can keep up with you?”

If the body was a chest of drawers, yours overturned all at once. Someone who could keep up with you… Challenge you. Like… him? Your jaw clenched. A desire you didn’t even know you had settled with a pulsing heat in your lower belly.

“So, what I’m hearing, and correct me if I’m wrong.” You stopped, centered yourself with a deep breath. “What I’m hearing is you asking whether I’d get off on being chased?!?

“Get off on it?” Gojo’s jaw dropped, acting as if the idea had only just occurred to him. “Wow. Uh. Dirty girl. Well. Sure I mean, yeah. If you want.”

Your nails scraped across the leather of the couch, trying to distract yourself from how ridiculously enticing the idea was. Because it shouldn’t be at all. Nope. Not to a well-adjusted person. What made it exponentially worse was that the longer you went without storming out of his apartment, the more Gojo looked at you like the cat about to eat the canary. And damn it all, you didn’t hate it.

No. You hated that you didn’t hate it.

“If I want?” you grit out. “First of all, there’s something wrong with you if you get your rocks off on the idea of hunting women. Elmer Fudd over here. Get a grip.”

He smirked. “Be nice, kitty cat.”

Using your elbows, you shoved yourself up, whirling around to sit on your heels so you could better set him on fire with your eyes. 

“Why should I?!” you spat his earlier words back in his face.

Gojo went still, his slightly widened eyes flitting across your red-faced indignation. His gaze dropped to your lips as he chewed on his own for the span of a few breaths. Finally, he clucked his tongue. Whistled softly.

“Well, shit,” Gojo said. “Would ya look at that.”

Without an ounce of shame, his hand slid down the front of his pants.

“Wha–”

 “Sorryyy,” he sung. “Mind of his own, it’s the darndest thing!”

You gawked at him in disbelief as he casually adjusted himself.

“Really, man?!”

“Oh relaaax. Ever seen one before? Wanna take a peek?”

You tried to clear the image of those long fingers wrapping his cock, bringing himself to completion for you with that same groan he’d demonstrated for you earlier.  The thought had you too hot in your skin. 

“I’ll kill you. They’ll never stop finding your body.”

“Oh, keep going, I’m almost there!” he groaned theatrically before he shot you a cheeky, lopsided grin. “Gotta give it to you, babe, you really know how to get a guy goin’. I’m half hard and we haven’t even started.” His head cocked just a degree further and suddenly the playful grin he sported gained a sharp, predatory edge, voice dropping in low warning. “Keep looking at me like that. All angry. Sweetens the deal at the end of this thing. Makes it allll worth the wait.”

You swallowed, throat like sandpaper. “Deal?”

“When I catch you.”

You should walk out. You should walk right back out, like you said you would.

Unfortunately, your silence spoke volumes. Frustrated on several different levels, your hands flew up to cover your eyes, fingers pressing into the lids until you saw spots. But nothing could distract from the hyper awareness of the ache between your thighs.

“What do you want?” you asked, voice sounding small.

A long-fingered hand encircled each of your wrists, prying your hands away from your face. He held them hostage, pinning them to your upper thighs so you couldn’t retreat as he leaned in. Your heart stopped when his cheek brushed past yours.

“What I want is the whole thing. Listen. I love it when you play dumb with me. Seriously I do,” Gojo murmured into your ear. “But I think we’ve been sitting on the same page here for quite some time now, yeah? All the fighting, dancin’ around the tension and whatnot. I mean it’s sexy as hell, don’t get me wrong, but we both know it’s just extra bullshit.”

Your entire being was up in flames, face so hot you wondered if he could feel the heat emanating off your cheeks, his own pressed so tightly to yours he could probably feel your jaw work out a response.

“Make your point.”

He laughed, dipped his head, the tip of his nose nuzzling down the slope of your neck. The tiny, experimental flutter of warmth against your skin made you twitch, but the sudden hot drag of his tongue had you violently shuddering, searching for purchase until suddenly you were the one holding onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders. You could practically hear his arrogant smile as he breathed you in long and slow, the following sigh one of genuine contentment.

Gojo leaned back to have a look at you, disgustingly pleased with himself.

“Sure thing. I’ll make my point,” he said. Your arms felt strangely bereft when he moved out of your space, falling limply at your sides. Casual as could be, Gojo settled back into the couch, one ankle perched over his thigh, fingers clasping together like the two of you were discussing weather patterns. “Here’s the thing. I wanna find you, chase you, and fuck you in that order. Think you’d like somethin’ like that? Being pinned down with my cock in you?”

His eyes dropped to the motion of the unsubtle squeeze of your thighs, a razor sharp smile spreading slow across his lips.

“Yeah,” he purred. “Always thought you might.”

“You don’t know shit.”

His eyes flicked back to yours.

“I know that pussy has to be nice and wet by now.” Another spasm of want rocketed between your legs. God, he was so arrogant. “No shame in it, sweetheart. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop the whole thing.”

A palm settled on your knee, thumb stroking in a gesture of mock comfort. His voice was soft. “Orrr you could just admit you’re making a mess of your panties right now hearing me talk like this.”

It was like your strings were cut all at once, your chin tipping to your chest as you lost whatever self-preservation instinct you had left. “Shit,” you whispered.

A finger hooked into the bend of one of your knees, tugging invitingly. His hum was a soft, rolling lull.

“Come here and sit on me.”

You may have been cracking, folding beneath the weight of your desire, but nothing could have dulled the precision of the homicidal glare you leveled him with. 

“Think you have it in you to shut up for like six seconds?”

Gojo laughed. “Damn, my girl gets mean when she’s frustrated, huh?” At your lack of response, his smile dwindled and he seemed to truly consider you, taking in your stiff form. His gaze fell unabashedly between your legs again, tongue running along his teeth in deliberation. “You want me to eat you out a little? Loosen you up?”

Your jaw clenched as the mental image tore across your mind: hooded blue eyes looking up from between your legs, warm tongue put to work lapping at your cunt – he always did like to stay busy. Shit, why could you conjure up that image so well? 

Because Gojo had looked at you like that before, hadn’t he? Like he wanted to take you apart, piece you back together. You’d just been too blind to see it.

He continued, his other hand reaching out now so both were hooked behind your knees. “Yeah… Yeah. That’s what you need. About time, too, huh. Makes my dick so hard just thinking about it. C’mere.”

“I don’t–”

In a single movement, you were pulled off balance, falling flat on your back. He cut off your yelp of outrage, seized your ankles, spun and dragged you to the edge of the couch, your thighs now bracketing his. You squirmed, head spinning as you panted up at him with searching eyes. It wasn’t a comfortable position you’d been suddenly squeezed into, your head bent awkwardly against the back of the couch, trapped in a slouched position by the oppressive energy coming from the man standing between your spread legs.

Gojo loomed above. His fingers twitched at his sides, drawing your attention there and then directly over to the glaring evidence of his arousal pressing against the front of his pants. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Feels like I really don’t even have to check,” he breathed, hungry gaze trailing across your body like he couldn’t decide what to focus on. “Just know you’re soaking. It’s crazy.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said again, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Last chance.

“I– you’re�� F-fuck you.” His grin was deadly, eyes sparkling in dark victory. It was unsettling, how much you wanted to fall headfirst into that blue.

Gojo Satoru collapsed on his knees like he was about to start muttering prayers. He tugged you closer, the weight of his head falling against your inner thigh with a satisfied hum. Laying there so he could simply observe the slight quiver in your legs as he slowly drew his oversized palms up and down any bare skin available to him.

“Fuck. Look at you,” he murmured, breath sweeping across the damp crotch of your sleep shorts like he was talking right into your clothed pussy. 

At the sound of your tiny, pathetic squeak, his shoulders shuddered violently. He slid forward, fingers hooking into the hem of your shorts, teasing there. His eyes raised with a hooded intensity, holding yours for a few heated seconds. Terribly slow, he let his jaw drop, tongue unveiling itself, and leaned forward to press it firm and flat against the thin fabrics covering your entrance, letting the heat bleed from his mouth. A groan choked out of your throat, coming out more as a grating wheeze, the noise met with a gleaming, wicked satisfaction.

“So the…” you swallowed thickly, voice so ragged it was almost completely foreign. “The thing with eating pussy is you have to remove my-”

There was a sharp, reprimanding smack on your thigh. “Don’t start.”

You half expected him to rip your shorts right off; you wouldn’t have been opposed. But Gojo instead rolled the hem down little by little, so torturously slow your fingers ached with how hard they dug into the couch with anticipation. He nipped, sucked bruises into the skin as it was exposed, gently guiding you to lift your hips so he could pull your bottoms the rest of the way.

His eyes danced in wonder across the arousal that you could feel being squeezed from you just by his appraisal. “Shit,” he exhaled, his warm breath brushing gently across your soaking cunt. You gasped, legs automatically attempting to clamp together. To get away. When was the last time you’d been this vulnerable to anyone? 

“No, no. Nope. None of that,” he reprimanded, pushing your knees into your chest, spreading your legs more lewdly for his perusal. “Lemme see what I did to you.”

“I– I c-can’t.” You averted your gaze. It was all too much: the sight of Gojo Satoru kneeling between your legs, looking as if he’d let the world burn just to get a taste of you. He breathed across you again, his mouth so damn close that you wanted to start tearing at his hair.

“Shit,” he said again. “Pussy got hot hearing me talk about how hard I’m gonna fuck it later.”

You couldn’t help but let out a muffled cry when two fingers stroked down your slit, pressing against the entrance to your pussy, swirling there. He coated the tips of his fingers thoroughly in your wetness, raising them to the light just to slowly scissor them apart. Watch your own fluid stretch thin between them before going back for more, just lightly teasing. Your face felt impossibly hot, chest rising and falling in short gasps, chasing the stroke of his fingers, needing something to clench around, the slow spread of your slick too ridiculously loud in the quiet room.

“You always this wet for me, baby?”

“I d-didn’t think your head could get any bigger.”

Gojo hummed in amusement, giving no warning before he began to slowly ease two fingers inside you. A string of expletives punctuated the air as your cunt throbbed and clamped down in relief, accepting him greedily.

“Look at that,” he said, hooking the long digits inside you and pulling another whimpered curse from your lips. He took his time dragging them out, pushing them back in with an obscene squelch. “You’re a sweet girl letting me finger fuck you like this. Shit, look at your pussy suckin’ on my fingers. So fucking hot… my girl letting me do this to her.”

“You–You’re- I d-” You attempted to mouth off, snap back that you didn’t belong to him, but a targeted curl of his fingers cut you off at the pass. 

“I know,” he crooned. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

A thumb pressed into your clit and your back arched as bolts of pleasure shot up your spine, hips rolling with the pump of his fingers, chasing more. You needed more. You couldn’t even breathe you needed it so badly.

Gojo bit the inside of your thigh, moaning obscenely and latching harder when you yelped in pain and smacked him hard in the head. 

“Ow. What the– what the fuck,” you gasped, although you hadn’t really disliked it at all. He soothed the sting away with little licks.

“Sorry,” he said insincerely, voice in shreds now, strained with an odd concentration. “Wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve whacked off to the thought of this right here. But now look at you spreading your pretty legs for me. Still tryin’ to act like you’re not starved for my cock after all this time. Making me wait like that. Dripping your cum all over my couch. Makes me fucking crazy. Filthy girl. You’re my filthy girl, aren’t you? Ffuck,” he hissed. 

It took you too long in your blissed out state to realize his shoulders were rocking slightly, and not just from the push and pull of his fingers inside you. “And my sweet girl’s gonna let me hunt her down, isn’t she? Spit on her tits, slap her, fuck her from behind.”

You couldn’t see it, but there was no doubt now that Gojo was masturbating himself in tandem. Thrusting his hips, not fast enough to relieve himself, just to appease the torment. God, he was vulgar, he was disgusting. He was sexy. He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

With a wet schlick, his fingers pulled out of you. And you could only assume from the way both his gaze and hand fell down to his lap that he was spreading your cum along his cock. Fingers wrapping himself, Gojo choked on something between a salacious moan and a manic laugh. His eyes slid up to yours dangerously.

A quick flash of pink was all you got before he was leaning forward and sliding his tongue through your drenched folds. Finally, you let loose the keening cry that had been stuck in your chest. Your spine felt close to snapping with how hard it pulled taut, your fingers leaping from their death grip into the couch cushion to embed deep in his soft hair, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

A long, appreciative groan came from deep in his chest and he sighed, relaxed further into his task. One hand fisted around his cock, the other wrapped round one of your thighs to draw you closer, hand splaying across your lower belly to better hold you down. The rough pad of his thumb found your clit, dragging tight circles. 

With long strokes of his tongue, he lapped at the wetness collecting at your entrance. You wanted him to go higher, needed his mouth elsewhere, for that wet heat to replace the thumb steadily masturbating you. You dipped your hips to guide him there but he didn’t relent, tongue fucking into your cunt with the same aching slowness. It was like this wasn’t even for you.

“Gojo,” you said weakly. He just hummed, the vibration sending arcs of pleasure up your spine. God you were so close already. You just needed… “G-Gojo.”

Still he didn’t speed up, acted like he hadn’t even heard you. And it pissed you right off. He wanted the whole thing, didn’t he? He’d said that before. Gojo Satoru wanted you. Badly. He was good, but so were you. Gojo was a man who took. Had taken his entire life. He didn’t want someone who sat around and stroked his vanity. No. He wanted someone who took, too. He wanted you.

A rising anger loosened your tongue.

“Gojo, you f-fucking prick,” you spat. “Take your hand off your fucking cock and do this the right way.”

Deliberately, his tongue pulled from you, thumb still working you at an infuriatingly slow pace. A lazy, dangerous grin began to crawl across his lips, still wet with your juices.

“Careful,” he warned.

“I hate careful.”

Something dazed crossed his face then, like you’d struck him square across the face. He shuddered, his eyes darkening, glimmering suddenly with an almost terrifying devotion.

And then both his hands were on you.

Arms wrapped under your thighs, palms splaying to lock your hips down completely. A blessed heat enveloped your clit with a gentle suction, tongue fluttering where you had so desperately needed it.

“Ffffff” was all you could manage, your back arching, unable to even watch him like you wanted to as your body contorted with the pleasure shooting to a quick crescendo. 

“Shitshitshitshit,” you cried, fingers yanking at his hair, uncaring whether it hurt him, shoving his face impossibly further into your pussy. A vulgar, encouraging groan left him and with one final suck and a flicker of his tongue, you were sailing into oblivion. You clawed at him, a string of filthy curses stuck in your throat as you spasmed against him. It was long, debilitating, and drawn out by warm, slow slides of his tongue against you as he continued to lap up what you spilled, murmuring soft praises.

Your spine laid flat against the couch again as you collapsed with satisfaction, the pleasure still buzzing like a livewire across your skin. You twitched with sensitivity when his thumbs spread you apart, observing the final, tiny convulsions of your pussy.

“I– you’re amazing,” he groaned, like he was imagining himself deep inside you. “God, baby I… I wanna ruin you. My fucking cock is…” His forehead fell between your thighs for a second, like he was gathering himself. “I’m so fucking hard.”

Gojo leaned back on his heels as you sat up, assisting as you pulled your pants back up. He helped you up on shaky legs, until the two of you stood looking at each other, him unmoving, just eyeing you silently with a dark intensity. 

Gently, you pulled his face down to yours, placing a short, gentle kiss to his lips.

You pulled back. 

“I really do hope you’re as fast as they say you are.”

And you disappeared.

[artsyannierose]

Nene’s Dead Corpse and her ghost bf

randomly made a crap ton more sense to me

why?

fricking school (screw school I hate you (no not rly I’m just stressed))

Anyway I’m a biomed class where unit 1 is studying medical investigations forensic science style

and one of the things is like, what happens to a person after the body has been dead for a while (post mortem or sum, see im learning :D)

Things like algor mortis, livor mortis, I’ve heard of. In fact I’ve even studied the clouding of the corneas before, but it never got to me till today

maybe it’s cause I cannot for the life of me study forensics without my wild imagination giving me nightmares or just panicking when I’m alone but aNyWays

I tend to imagine characters associated with death in these scenarios so I don’t lose it in class💀

*cough* Nene *cough cough*

So as I was taking notes on the slideshow, some of the images of clouded corneas reminded me strangely of something familiar, but at that point I couldn’t tell. There’s something haunting about the eyes (or maybe it’s just my over-analytical brain loving small details like this) they’re GORGEOUS

LIKE

IDK THEYRE PRETTY

Maybe it’s ‘cause the true color of the iris is completely visible in all its glory, without the pupil obscuring it

(something like this?? A little vivid tho lol)

but like

there’s no

life

no reflection, no emotion…nothing (which is so hauntingly beautiful leave me alone I’m a sucker for this now)

it’s literally just an eye with nothing but color

and then it hit me…it’s exactly the look Nene had when Mirai fast-forwarded her time

you can see in the image it’s just her plain magenta eyes with a fuzzy de-saturated blob in the center…aka clouded corneas

And that honestly made me realize that in this scene she’s not—she’s not even unconscious

No she’s literally, physiologically dead

THAT IS A CORPSE HE IS HOLDING

she is literally a dead body this hits me so hard😭😭

and I can imagine algor mortis kicked in by then, her body was probably cold to the touch

so imagine how he felt, and I’m aware people have analyzed his emotions but just think about it

he’s always seen her so full of life and hope, and now all he has left is an empty shell of her, cold and dead with no life left inside

…just like him

the more I think about it Hanako is just an animated corpse

he has no reflection in his eyes most of the time because he is ✨dead✨

I mean Mei, Mitsuba, and Hanako don’t have a little white reflection dot like Nene and Kou

Or maybe I’m overthinking it and Nene’s eyes are just super reflective

even for someone who presumably took his own life, he probably never saw tsukasa’s body start postmortem and actually feel dead bc it looked extremely bloody ngl (I’m guessing he killed himself right after 💔)

and now he’s holding someone he cares about like this for the first time and I’ll bet that scarred him

and he figured out that never, never ever did he ever want to see his sweet assistant like this again, lifeless in his arms

and so after that, cue Hanako in his villain era who basically became a yandere the entire picture perfect lmao

and he was unbelievably adamant about it too

I mean honestly if I held anybody I knew lifeless like that I’d be scarred for life and crying for days

seeing the light drained from someone’s eyes is so interestingly sad to me

Look at the difference:

Happy

vs Sad/Determined

vs Depressed (ig??)

vs Dead

She still has so much emotion in her eyes

and then d e a d

literally looks like a porcelain doll

wait she looks so pale in the last image compared to the others now that I think about it

I love aidairo’s eye for detail it’s so fun to figure out

Well anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk essay atp-

IT’S PAST 1 AM AND I SHOULD BE STUDYING FOR SAID BIOMED CLASS AND HERE I AN GOING ON A TANGENT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER’S EYES

send help

anyways excuse me while I grab a box of strawberries to munch on and cry my eyes out all over my homework before I sleep-

[moonshynecybin]

please give me all your thoughts about the Academy boys in this world, I am thinking about two of them right now :

— Pecco (who definitely knows he’s attracted to Luca, might be starting to realize he has feelings for him as well, maybe they’ve fooled around or maybe Pecco has been too scared to do anything yet) : I can’t decide which way he would take the whole thing and what he would focus on (either the good things and how that might mean he could have what Marc & Vale have in the open one day or the bad things and how the world sure isn’t ready for talented™️ gay motoGP riders so there is no way it would ever be okay for him) which has a direct incident on how he treats his relationship with Luca

— Bezz : 17 yo Bezz who obviously doesn’t hate Marc because this is 2016 but he’s heard Vale complain about him a little through 2015 and heavily through the 2015-2016 break and it might have influenced him a little but I think he would genuinely feels really bad and sorry for Marc (and how he was the most negatively impacted/compromised by those photos) and could tell him so, and also go quietly ‘I don’t know if I could ever do that’ [the whole going public thing] and Marc telling him he doesn’t have to, not if he doesn’t want to

forced coming out au and the academy boys.... my white whale.... no but literally!!! since its set in the 2016 season the academy is full of sensitive little gay teenagers at this point (pecco's like 19 luca is 18ish bezz is 17) and like.

pecco and luca were around for the good times initially but also the entireeeee divorce, so like it IS insane to them to see marc and vale making out in the paddock tbh. buttttt !!! theyve also seen how they were when they were friends, so they have the groundwork. its not ENTIRELY out of left field.. actually bc of this i think luca knows rosquez arent actually together (he sees he perceives he can tell vale is being weird) and he has um. inklings that things are unresolved and tense, while pecco (who is young and newer and doesnt know vale as well) thinks they are 100% together for realsies... which means LUCA is very aware of how this is a PR thing that his brother and marc have been forced into, while PECCO thinks the power of gay love is saving the day... so its a reversal of their usual dynamic a bit... like luca sees the pitfalls/violence of the situation and pecco is coming out of his shell, testing the waters, being cautiously optimistic for the future of gay riders in the paddock... i think once luca tells pecco that its fake it is. AWFUL for them ! pecco thinks its rejection (its nottttt) and all of that careful scaffolding of hope collapses. truly takes them way longer to get together here as a result. pining for MONTHS luca thinks he blew his chance and doesnt ask again...

and for BEZZZZZZ like. truly all i think about. i think without the years of escalating and calcifying rosquez tension to be absorbed by him he gets on with marc like a house on fire i really do. sublimated into the werewolf pack really fast they VIBE they are very SIMILAR they are insanely LOYAL they like their PEOPLE! so in my mind (like you say) bezz has some realizations and instead of repressing it, he decides to talk to marc (a lil less fraught than his HERO valentino i think) and marc nearly cries lol. it is honestly a very healing experience for them both ESPECIALLY marc after the trauma of coming out. like. marc thinks if he cant have his privacy and everything is awful with valentino at least he can do this for a young racer who reminds him of himself... very sweet imo

[harukapologist]

rambling about Haruka

As an ND person I just hate how Haruka's character is either completely infantilized or reduced to a selfish, evil murderer, when, to me, he is so much more than that.

Especially the latter; I hate when any MILGRAM character is called evil because what's the point of MILGRAM, then? They're all morally grey! That's how they test us. But Haruka in particular because I feel like it comes from a place of ableism, intentional or not.

I'm not sure if I should put TWs, but well I talk about ableism, murder (obviously lol), childhood trauma and well... it's Haruka

Haruka's outburst in the VD and his implication of killing animals (I know it's basically canon but erm... i can explain why I think it's an implication later) (i just finished writing the post and actually i explained why at the bottom of the post but its not a full explanation so lol) are the reasons I see people calling him either evil or childlike, and while I do think that Haruka is stuck in a childlike state in some aspects, this is emotional dysregulation of an ND and/or traumatized person, to me.

The uglier sides of being ND/traumatized, the ones that get heavily stigmatized and seen as intentional or evil; I think this was a display of one of them. And I really wish to see more people focusing on Haruka's disability in the ways it can affect his communication and day-to-day life skills more than "oh, poor baby, he has a disability that makes him feel unwanted" without actually understanding the details of the disability and, well, the reason why it is a disability.

Like, the emotional dysregulation that comes with being autistic, which is my headcanon for him. The hyperempathy and literal thinking that might make him harder to communicate with, and get people frustrated with him more often.

That and being severely neglected; I think neglect is one of the lesser discussed forms of childhood trauma and the fact that Haruka was shown to be neglected as well as abuse really means a lot to me, because I think some people don't quite understand just how much neglect and isolation fucks you up.

All those factors combined are a recipe for an unstable, impulsive, clingy shell of a human, and him getting called evil for that really saddens me. It's important to remember that these MVs are extracted from the prisoners' own memories and thoughts. It comes from their perception of their surroundings, their murders, and their own selves. The manic look that Haruka has on his face for a lot of AKAA, for example. The makeshift shirt he's wearing, as if he's desperately trying to sew himself together into a normal person, the exhausted, frustrated look when he picks up the necklace, it's important to remember that this is how he sees himself. A monster who has lost control of himself. The line "I'll keep killing to be your good boy" was a shock, but the way he meekly apologized to Es at the end of his VD, I really think that shows that he feels guilty, that he wants to convince himself more than anyone that he was a good person, that he was really trying to be one despite how his unlucky life frustrated him to his breaking point.

As for his infantilization, it has already been addressed by many thoughtful members of the fandom and I'm grateful to see that, but I also want to say it myself since god knows I hate being patronized.

It feels very ableist saying he's just "someone stuck in a childlike mindset/age regressor" Yes, and how does age regression as a coping mechanism develop? Usually through prior trauma that makes you "stuck" at said age, and that can present differently. It can be longing and yearning for a simpler time, for an actual happy childhood, or having flashbacks to a traumatic event that happened at a certain age; it is not uncommon for trauma survivors to be "frozen" at the age their trauma took place.

I think both of these are the case for Haruka. Frozen at that moment, but trying to reduce himself to nothing but a little, unaware child to avoid reliving it again, relishing in the innocence and purity of his good younger times (emphasis on purity--Haruka's murder was by strangulation, yet there's a shot in AKAA where he's covered in blood. I know it's after he killed the animals, but he's in the stitched-together outfit here; I think there's more to this MV than just killing the animals. Since this outfit is... not very likely to be worn in reality, did the animal killing happen at all? Even if it did, I think this shot remains an indicator that he sees himself as impure; guilty. I have a LOT to say about the inconsistencies in Haruka's MVs, but I'll save that for later... Anyway, back on topic) It is NOT "having the mental capacity of a child, so being unable to date etc." Haruka has still lived 17 years, maybe even more, since he isn't too interested in remembering his age. How do you treat actual neurodivergent people if this is how you see him?

When I rewatch the MVs, relisten to the VDs, reread the interrogations and timelines, I see no evil, just an incredibly broken, misunderstood person.

[creechurrr]

I have come to the conclusion that I am a SUCKER for the "you're no longer you, you've been twisted beyond recognition, but I depend on your so so much I will do whatever it takes to stay by your side to the point I lose myself" relationship because I am now hopelessly into Link Click, Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint, and the Summer Hikaru Died.

Skephalo is also there on its own level.

Link Click isn't where one is already twisted beyond recognition, but it is "you have already died before and I am doing everything in my power to bring you back even if it makes the world's biggest hypocrite, even if I am destroying myself and alone in the process".

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint is kind of like Link Click in the terms of it has the vibe of that dynamic I like, where "one is dying so we keep going back over and over again for you, even though your so freaking INSISTENT that you must die to save everyone, BUT WE LOVE YOU LIKE YOU LOVE US."

The Summer Hikaru Died is the "you died and now you're something completely different, by all accounts you are a monster, but I love you so much that I want to stay by you no matter what, no matter what it'll do to me". And it is BEAUTIFUL for that. It is my absolute new favourite thing. I genuinely cannot wait to read more, because I am rattling the bars of my cage for them.

And then Skephalo is my og obsession into that dynamic and probably why I'm not gonna main tag anything because it's really stupid funny to have one of the best ever donghua's, a 5,000 page novel/comic, and a manga being adapted into an anime, and then MINECRAFT ROLEPLAY 💀

BUT EVERYONE HAS GOTTA HEAR ME OUT BECAUSE C!SKEPHALO IS PERFECT IN SO MANY WAYS. IT'S LITERALLY PERFECT YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. Bad is already corrupted and becoming unlike himself after meeting this Eldritch deity, and Skeppy is so frustrated and desperate to have HIS Bad back. So Skeppy gives himself to the deity to free Bad, but Bad is so distraught he ends up falling COMPLETELY into this Eldritch deity's hold, because Skeppy is now a shell of himself, and Bad will do ANYTHING to save him, including build an empire and kill everyone else he knows and loves. Bad is angry with how dull and hateful this shell of Skeppy is towards him when Bad is trying to create an empire and kill their friends to SAVE HIM, kills Skeppy in anger, Skeppy revives uncorrupted, realizes this means he has to kill Bad in order to save him, and when Bad fails everything to try and save a Skeppy he thought he killed, he escaped and Skeppy kills him on the dock, during a sunrise, filled with love and forgiveness.

But time goes by and Skeppy realizes Bad is still under the Eldritch entity's hold, and becomes scared of losing Bad again, Bad who is also beginning to lose his memories and sanity once more. So Skeppy goes against all of Bad's wishes, goes back to the deity, works for him to kill all of their friends for GOOD, because Bad is worth more than all of them, only for Bad to get caught up in the plan and fall into the deity's hands again anyway.

AND THEN WHO FUCKING KNOWS WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THAT, BUT BAD AND SKEPPY SACRIFCED SO MUCH FOR EACH OTHER AND KILLED FOR EACH OTHER AND THEN ACTUALLY KILLED EACH OTHER LIKE. C!SKEPHALO IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE.

[davekat-sucks]

Anon from the karkat rant ask again. To follow up on some of the points you made, I think part of why they're treating him as a joke is much do to with what Karkat in part represents (or has come to represent in many ways, at least in my opinion) as much as they're disdain and low-opinion of their audience. He's kind of the Embodyment of Justified and often Vindicated Fandom anger and RAGE. Obviously at times that anger is overblown on occasion and can be directed against the wrong things but its purpose is as much to hold the creators or "IP Owners" in worse cases, accountable and its very existence at least when not wholly forged from a political desire to change the property in question (You know what I mean.) show that the fandom actually gives a shit. That you *have* that audience and that they will for all its faults also DEFEND that thing to end, or at least until theres either nothing left to defend or they've been ostracized to the point they just... can't care anymore. Making the character who, while often overblown in his anger was also a major voice of reason and understanding (and the TEAM LEADER for the trolls.) nothing more than a joke I feel like is much a slap in the face of the few old fans who still want to salvage... anything from NuStuck. Its also just Salt in the wound of Karkats already shell of a character I guess. Originally karkat was a genuine caricature of the type of fan that means well but get overzelous in their fandom, or overly spiteful at times but his anger was almost never unjustifiable. The beta kids? Ruined his session by denying the Beta trolls their new universe and prize. Trying to help John and Dave by warning them about the literally crazy chicks they're dealing with? Ignored despite the fact bad shit ALREADY HAPPENED (John got literally killed causing that Doomed Timeline.) (I'm a fan of DaveRezi and Spider8reath but Karkat was definitively *not* wrong and legitimately trying to help.) Not to discount his own "Up his own ass-ness" ofc, the Terezi situation (Relationship wise) is entirely his own fault, with his obsession with future and past karkat (Not that any of his team actually did much to help him get over that either. Gamzi and TZ weren't really in the best shape to help and Nepeta was stuck Pining instead instead of actually making the push to start something. of everyone among the Beta Trolls I think NP was probably the best bet Karkat had at having someone to help him get over... himself. literally. But I suppose Hussie didn't particularly like Nepeta that much and Jade was a main character so w/e.) I've wondered off the point somewhat. End of the day, everyone who is responsible for the current state of things both Want their Bishi interspecies fanfic cake and to eat said cake, with "We hate the fans" Icing and "We can't keep our headcanon or politics to ourselves" Sprinkles.

On to the topic of how they're drawing the trolls again (briefly.) Just making their Skin/Carapace darker is just... *sigh*. End of the day, unless their adult designs (silhouette) were flat out poorly designed the vast majority of people who actually read the web comic would be able to, if not outright identify them, make very good assumptions. though tbh if they couldn't identify them based on design thats probably an issue with the design itself than anything. I mean if you look at Meenah, then look at HIC (Especially where you get her in a CG, like her holding Boondollars) you can genuinely tell its just Beta!Meenah. or I guess, really its the reverse but still. The logic applies both-ways with the Dancestors and Ancestors. The biggest departure is probably Aranea + Mindfang and Kurloz + TGH but with context that doesn't matter much.

Hard to believe that the Nu-Fans don't find this sort of thing insulting, not that actually care about Homestuck but you'd think they'd notice that the people behind all this don't think they're particularly smart. or that they're getting served fanfic infinitely worse than ACT 6.

You also have to remember though, Epilogues and Homestuck 2 was also made to spite of the fandom. Even James Roach admitted this back with his talk with the Vtuber and believed in that similar philosophy. It's not even trolling at this point. It's just Andrew Hussie and his team pissing and shitting on our faces and making fun of the audience/readers to have cared and wasted their time on the Homestuck series. Psycholonials puts Andrew Hussie as the victim of creating the series, but in reality, he has similar blame to how he acted during the comics run and completion. I mean, dude still blew off 2 million dollars in Kickstarter for the Hiveswap game that's STILL in development after 10+ years since it was funded. How the fuck has no one thought he scammed everyone at this point? Also didn't help people assume that most trolls turned out black by the end, was in Collide when said detailed version of The Condesce has her skin full on black, so people assume it's not an artstyle or silhouette to parallel the human guardians. Bitch is black and she's dead cause a white woman killed her. Surprised that never go through the fandom either that The Condesce that was called literal Sea Hitler, who people headcanon her as black, despite having made a racist class system, she would be killed by three white kids and a midblood class troll (Kanaya).

One could argue since different artists were involved and it's not Hussie directly himself, it doesn't count. But hey, people have taken Pesterquest's designs as canon despite being stated multiple times that the series is LOCKED canon from the base webcomic and HONE's designs for Viz Media were made years before Pesterquest was a thing.

[saltsicklover]

Mud on the Floor - BRB - Broken House

I had this one ready to go because I thought the poll was going to go this way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it anyway, even though this is literally not what you asked for!

Title: Mud on the Floor

Series: Broken House

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2600+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Themes, Thunderstorms, Angst Fluff Angst Sandwich.

A late afternoon storm hits the Hard Deck on Friday. Honey seems to be the only person not completely taken aback by the opening of the sky as she drives into work. The streets of California turn from open window joy rides to panicked skidding and hydroplaning as the concrete is pelted with rain. Honey drives slow, humming to her favorite song playing through static over the radio. The music takes her back to the first time Bradley held her close, in rain just like this, her mind no longer focused on chasing a ghost.  

"Hey, eyes on the road there, handsy," Honey pushes Bradley's hand from her thigh. He lets his fingers graze over the warmth of her skin, savoring each micro-moment before his hand hits the space between them. He turns his eyes back to the road, obeying her request, though he would rather sit and stare at Honey in the passenger seat. 

"You didn't seem to mind me being handsy this weekend," Bradley's tone is full of tease, the point of his tongue darting out of his mouth to tease the woman sitting next to him. He knows she's watching him. Honey's eyes haven't stopped tracing the edges of his profile for the last fifty miles and he doubts that fact will change any time soon. 

There is a meekness to the hum Bradley's comment is met with, it's noncommittal and unpressed, but he feels the warmth of her fingers snake through his own. Bradley lets himself smile, wide and toothy. He has stopped hiding his smiles since he met Honey all of four days ago. Their chance meeting at a bar in a rainstorm lead to their bodies tangled in cheap motel sheets, the fabric scratchy against their kiss stained skin. 

"You weren't driving this weekend," Honey points out. An absentminded stroke of her thumb over his own sends a shiver up his spine. God, Honey has this effect on him. This overtaking feeling of warmth that scatters across his skin like sparks on pavement. Bradley tries to soak in each ripple, each shiver, each spark, afraid that it will be gone as quickly as it came. 

"I thought I was driving you crazy, Sweet Girl," Bradley's words are coated in sugar water, sweet and refreshing. That nickname was new, and the way it left his lips made Honey wish he would whisper it again just so she could let it roll over her, slowly this time, so she could actually take the time to appreciate it. Still, she basks in it, lets it take over her senses- and it makes her feel alive. 

Lately, with Honey chasing any information about her father from base to base, post to post, port to air field and back again, she's felt like more shell than human. Her father is basically a ghost when you're a civilian. He lies hidden behind red tape and security clearance; both too full of bureaucracy and too lacking in empathy for the abandoned. 

"You are starting to drive me a different kind of crazy here, Brad," Honey's gentle fingers meet the side of his chin, pushing his eyeline back towards the road. Bradley wants to roll his eyes at her, but the feeling of his hand now holding onto the thickness of her leg, her own hand set atop his, keeps his eyeline unrolling on the road in front of them. "It looks like the sky is going to open up again any minute," 

"I hate the rain," The mutter coming from the man causes a gasp to all but rip through Honey. Her hand leaves the rolled spine of her book on her lap, dancing quickly through the air before she covers her newly gaping mouth. Bradley all but puts the break pedal to the floor, skidding to the side of the road at the noise, panic shooting though him. The Bronco is thrown in park so hast the gears of the engine almost lock. The look he gives her is nothing short of bewilderment when he finds her unharmed and looking a him like he's the crazy one. 

"What the fuck was that?" 

"You take that back," 

Both speak at the same time, each sentence their own version of momentary anger. Neither of them mean it, and both are quick to swallow the remainder of emotion still sitting on their tongue. 

Then, the sky opens up with a large crack of lightening, lighting up the massive gray sky. The bolt flashes over cabin of the Bronco, lighting up their faces. Honey looks at Bradley, her lips parted slightly. They are plush and full, the bottom one having just been released from the prison between her teeth. There are light teeth marks in the flesh and Bradley wants nothing more in that moment than to slide his own tongue over the groves and ease the pulsing under the dimpled flesh. 

Honey's eyes are drawn to the amber flecks in Bradley's eyes. They shone almost gold in the flash of purple white light not a moment before. Honey can't help but lean closer to him. She brings one leg up onto the seat, the other still on the floorboards with the book that slid from it's place in her lap. She leans closer still, trying to locate the gold hidden in the rich molasses of his eyes, hidden behind curled lashes that dust his cheeks with each too short blink. He doesn't dare look away from her too long for fear that her eyes would no longer be on his. 

A little crack of a smile crosses across Honey's expression, the attempt to hid it with a flick of her tongue over her lips catches Bradley's attention. He tentatively brings a hand up to her cheek, swiping the pad of his thumb over the fullness of her bottom lip. His fingertips barely graze over his cheek before they make a home near her hairline. The way she leans into his touch does nothing to quell the embers burning in Bradley's chest. Before this moment, he didn't know there could be so much passion behind the smallest of movements; his heart beats rhythmically against the backside of his ribs in a way that almost knocks the breath form his lungs. 

"What'cha smiling at, Sweet Girl?"  He almost has to suck in another deep breathe as he watches her shudder lightly, goosebumps breaking out over the expanses of her skin. He wishes he could see that little shiver again is slow motion, the way her eyes close and the corners of her mouth pull 

There's that name again, and the way he whispered it so huskily it makes her hands shake. Honey swallows thickly, trying to get control of her own body. She almost finds her hands reaching for Bradley, dying to feel him under her hands again. The weekend they spent tangled in each other, now gone behind them, and it didn't do enough to keep her satiated. 

"I was just thinkin' tha's all," Bradley doesn't trust the little ribbon of playfulness laces through her voice, so he presses just a bit further, pressing the pads of his fingers just a bit harder against her scalp. 

"What's on that beautiful brain of yours, huh?" 

"Just thinkin' 'bout how nice it is to be trapped in your car during the storm, tha's all," There is an air of nonimportance to her shrug, like she is trying to devalue her own thoughts because she doesn't like the way they sound coming from her own tongue. 

Bradley's fingertips leave Honey's scalp for just a moment, and she fights not to follow them. The laugh that wracks through Bradley surprises her, but she loves the smile that spreads across his face and the way his cheeks flush. It looks like raspberries have been smushed into his cheeks, and Honey can't help the way she stares. 

"Did I say something funny?" Honey keeps her tone so sweet. Bradley melts just a little further. He presses the pads of his fingers back onto her skin and Honey lets the warmth spread through her from his touch. 

"Yeah, you did, Sweet Girl. This isn't just any car we are sitting in, it's a Bronco," He explains, bringing his other hand up to wander over her exposed upper arm. Bradley's tone is far from condescending, and now he has Honey under both of his hands. She fights off the shiver threatening to break over her body, crest over the skin like the ocean does that sand. Bradley swears he can feel the electricity flowing under her skin, but maybe that's just his own heartbeat pulsing through the tips of his fingers. 

Then, Bradley takes one hand away from Honey, though it almost physically hurts him to pull his fingers away from the softness of her skin, but he needs her closer. Pulling the handle below his seat, Bradley uses both feet to slide the driver's seat back as far as it can go. It click, click, clicks all the way back and Bradley loses touch of Honey for a second. Then, he is leaning forward, reaching across the center console to pull her straight into his lap. 

The little squeak that escapes Honey is short lived as she settles hard down onto Bradley's strong, wide thighs. She cages them in with her own, her skin pressed up against the cold leather interior of the door and console. Bradley's hands are flashing over her skin, warming her up with the heat of his palms. Then, his hands wind into her hair, sliding up the back of her neck before the tendrils laces through his outstretched digits. A small moan passes Honey's lips as she takes in the depth of his touch, all fever and passion, almost a new, blooming sort of love. 

Their breath mingles together in the small space between them, the tip of Honey's nose all but grazing Bradley's. They are so close, lips just brushes each others, exchanging the same deep breath of air as eyes search faces. The tip of Bradley's tongue skims over the fullness of Honey's low lip and she chases the feeling as he pulls back. The headrest stops Bradley's movements, and Honey's lips meet his just a touch too hard, a carom of a kiss, but Bradley is quickly pulling her back into him, hands in her hair as she messes with the top few buttons of his shirt. 

It's all hot kisses and buttons slipping through fabric, palms to marred skin exploring the imperfect nature of it all. Bradley pulls the leaver on the side of his seat, reclining them backwards, further away from the wheel. The pair are as horizontal as they can get, but Bradley wants more. His hands come up to her ribcage in an attempt to lean her, to guide her to change places. He wants her underneath his own body so he can explore her chest with his tongue. 

Honey is jostled form her perch on top of Bradley, and in a second, she is falling through the door, her hand having caught the handle in an attempt to steady herself in their fruitless effort to switch positions.  Suddenly the rain is now coming in, and Honey is falling out. Bradley isn't quite fast enough, only managing to soften her fall as her ass makes contact with the muddy, sandy, very wet ground. 

The curse is almost off Bradley's tongue as Honey's laughter erupts throughout the air, in harmony with the thunder above. It cracks throughout the sky, shaking the Bronco as the rain slicks down Honey's hair against her skin. Bradley leans out of the cab to look at Honey, his own hair catching it's fair share of the rainfall. The smile spread across her lips is undeniable, and he will look back on this moment and know that this is the exact moment he fell for her. This is exactly what happy looks like, and he yearns for a way to stop this moment just so he can look at her for a little while longer, skin slick with rainfall, her clothes now absolutely soaked through. 

There will be a bruises tomorrow, Honey is sure of it, from sickly yellow to deep purple. She really couldn't care less. Her shorts will be caked with mud from now on, and the t-shirt she is in sticks to her body in a way that feels like she may never get it off, but the whole damn situation is so funny and she can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Bradley is half way out of the door now, reaching for her, wanting to pull her up to her feet and back into the relative safety of the Bronco. They clasp hands, mud from Honey's squelching between their fingers. Bradley braces himself to pull her up, but instead, he slips on the wet metal of the door jamb, and Honey just tugs him the rest of the way out into the wet. 

It's Bradley's turn to laugh now, most of his large body's fall broken by the lovely woman who is now absolutely soaked to the bone. He should apologize, really he should, but she was the one who pulled him out of the Bronco, and she is already laughing from beneath him. 

Their lips meet again, somewhere between the laughter and the muddy touches. There are handprints, some smudged, some clear, decorating each other like maps. They trail over their bodies, a detective could read the desperation in their marks. 

The door above them remains open above them, doing nothing to shield them from the rain as they make love for the first time, down in the muddy ditch on the side of the empty highway. There should be no romance there, but from their desperate hands come gentle touches and their hot mouths birth deep kisses that make the world around them spin, each to dizzy drunk on each other to notice the rain begin to let up. 

Bradley climbs into the Bronco, his white t-shirt speckled see through with rain. The cloud are open and rain falls from them so thick he wants nothing more than to stand up the welcome back party at the Hard Deck. After the way he watched Honey walk away and the fact that he knew he'd be seeing Maverick again after their most recent falling out, the rain seems like a good enough reason to stay in. A call from Phoenix changed his mind, at least partially. 

The Bronco pulls into the hard deck in record time, the rain barely slowing him down. He catches sight of Bob's truck parked near the door and he realizes just how good it will be to see the old team again, to drink at the Hard Deck just like they used to. He can see Penny again, and drink one of her off the menu cocktails and maybe flirt with a bartender if he can find it in himself to do so. 

Bradley unclicks his seatbelt, hand on the doorhandle; he looks down to see the rain markings on the inside of the door, stained into the leather from the last time he saw a storm quite this bad. Bradley thinks of Honey and the way she laughed, the way she looked covered in mud, underneath him, skin warm to the touch even with the chilled rain running over him both. 

That's what happy looks like, Bradley knows that for sure. But, now, Honey is a two-thousand miles and one slammed door away, and Bradley feels like a goddamn broken man. He pushes open the door and lets the rain come in, feeling it on his skin. It's cold and it trails wet lines down his exposed skin. He feels the way his clothes begin to stick to his skin. He swears that he could still feel the way her muddy hands wound around him, pulling him closer. 

Bradley dares to let himself think of her, think of what happy looks like. The rain has never felt so fucking cold. 

[bibibbon]

Honestly, I feel like Spinner calling Shoji a "squid" is a out of character moment. Specifically, with the purpose of undermining the whole mutant quirk discrimination plot line.

The idea being: the leader of those violent protests doesn't actually care about the topic (discrimination) and actually has more in common with who they're protesting against (being discriminatory).

This is alright from a Watsonian perspective, but annoying to awful from a Doylist perspective.

Basically, Spinner is written as straw man for violent protest, and the best thing for a straw man is to be a hypocrite. Like, Amon from the LOK.

And to be clear, as character, I find Spinner to be the most boring of the LOV, even more than just simply flashy Mr. Compress. It's just that what Spinner represents, the bad minority victim, makes me question the writer's intent.

Agreed anon!! I also feel like spinner calling shoji basically slur ("squid") was way out of character and to me it didn't make sense in either views.

I get the whole Amon vibe that horikoshi maybe tried to go with I guess but it really doesn't fit spinner at all not from a doylist or watsonian view. It's much more simpler and honestly better to stick with the idea that spinner is a victim of discrimination and wouldn't discriminate against someone like him because it just doesn't fit his character at all and there's almost no build up for him to be someone like amon from the legend of korra.

Even though Iam critical of the legend of korra I did actually enjoy Amon's character and I thought that him being a hypocrite was an interesting twist and added to his character but with spinner it's lacking build up and development. Spinner's whole reason for doing what he did was because he hated being discriminated against it literally got so bad that he shut himself at home and only found hope in some of stains ideals which encouraged him to join the leauge so on. Even within the MVA arc spinner is confronted by the fact that it's mutants that actually make up the most of the villain statistics which is brought up to be due to discrimination.

However you do offer an interesting explanation to spinner and how horikoshi took his character in a different direction than expected yet I can't help but feel that even the whole "squid" moment is rather brushed off quite easily. I remember the time when hitoshi called ojirou a monkey and izuku made a huge deal about it to the point that he got hypnotised under shinso but this izuku is a shell of his former self and didn't even bother in pointing spinners hypocrisy or anything.

[justanothafanaccount]

KNY Incorrect Quotes: Kamaboko Squad Edition pt.1

── ୨୧ ─── ୨୧ ─── ୨୧ ──

*The Squad is at the Kamado’s*

Aoi: Ohhhh we each get our own oven?

Tanjiro: …N-No…

Tanjiro, laughing: How many ovens do you think I have???

Aoi, motioning to the kitchen: Three, I thought!

Inosuke: I see a-

Tanjiro, motioning to one device: This is a microwave.

Aoi: Oh, well I-

Tanjiro: Hey, wait wait, actually- hang on- *fiddles with the buttons on the microwave*

Tanjiro, amazed: Its got a bake setting!

Genya: Ohoho, you learn something new every day!

Kanao: Do we- Do we roshambo for who gets to pick first?

Tanjiro: Now I’ve discovered more ovens than I thought, we don’t have to roshambo nothin’!

Tanjiro: I am someone who owns four ovens…

Tanjiro, louder and way too happy: I am someone… who owns FOUR OVENS…

Nezuko , pointing to another appliance: Also, the toaster oven!

Aoi: Ohhh, toasty boy! Four- Five ovens!

Tanjiro, ecstatic: I AM SOMEONE WHO OWNS FIVE OVENS.

── ୨୧ ─── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Inosuke, Aoi & Genya: *screaming*

Muichiro: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Genya?!

Inosuke: Wait, why are you asking Genya that when Aoi and I are also here?

Muichiro: Because Genya wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Muichiro: I'm going to get so much done today.

Inosuke: I'll hold you to that.

*8 hours later*

Inosuke: So how much did you get done?

Muichiro: One thing.

Inosuke: Well, that's one more than usual.

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Genya: I've been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now.

Tanjiro: Wow. They sound stupid.

Genya: But they're not. They're really smart actually. Just dense.

Tanjiro: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don't know... "Hey! I love you!"

Genya: I guess you're right. Hey Tanjiro, I love you.

Tanjiro: See! Just say that!

Genya: Holy fucking shit.

Tanjiro: If that flies over their head then, sorry Genya, but they're too dumb for you.

Genya: Tanjiro.

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Kanao: Question, how difficult would it be to bowl in a bee suit?

Zenitsu: Not that hard, I don't think, as long as you can move.

Inosuke: I'd assume as hard as it is to bowl in a maid outfit.

Inosuke: Wouldn't be any harder, but you'd get some WEIRD looks.

Genya: Are. Are you speaking from experience.

Inosuke: No!

Inosuke:

Inosuke: ....Maybe.

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Muichiro, in the hospital: Will you visit me when I get out?

Genya: Lol nah, I hate graveyards.

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Muichiro: When will Ted himself..finally show up to the talk?

Tanjiro: The final boss.

Kanao: You guys know TEDtalks stands for technology, entertainment, and design talks, right?

Muichiro: I will not let Ted hide behind these lies any longer!

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Genya: Protip is you do not feel good about yourself after eating tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce.

Muichiro: What's wrong with you??

Genya: I literally JUST said I ate tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce?? Pay attention.

Kanao: No, they mean other than that.

Genya: Ohhhhhh.

Genya: I haven't slept in 4 days.

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Tanjiro: The floor is lava!

Inosuke: *helps Aoi onto the counter*

Kanao: *kicks Zenistu off the sofa*

Zenitsu: *lays on the floor*

Tanjiro: ...Are you okay?

Zenitsu: No.

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Aoi: Who wants to make fifty bucks?

Nezuko : How?

Aoi: I need someone to take the fall.

Nezuko: What did you do?

Aoi: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked.

Zenitsu, from the other room: Oh my god.

Aoi: ...

Zenitsu: OH MY GOD!

Nezuko: Make it a hundred.

Aoi: Deal.

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Inosuke: I know what a prism is! It's where you put bad people.

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Aoi: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell!

Genya: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Fucking say that next time!

── ୨୧ ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Inosuke: *points at Tanjiro* A human turtleneck, *points at Kanao* a narcissistic monster, *points at Genya* and literally the dumbest person l've ever met.

Genya: And who am I? Describe me now.

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Zenitsu: Do you love Aoi?

Inosuke: Yeah, I do.

Zenitsu: Tanjiro! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks!

Tanjiro: We all love Aoi. You should've asked if they were IN love with them.

Inosuke: I thought that was implied.

Tanjiro: ...

Zenitsu: ...

Inosuke, looking straight at Tanjiro: Congrats Zenitsu, you just won 100 bucks.

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Nezuko : Good news! I didn't screw up!

Genya: ...

Nezuko: I screwed up less badly than usual!

Genya: ...

Nezuko: Screwed up with less immediate consequences than usual.

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Kanao: When I said you should try being friendlier this isn't what l meant.

Aoi, stirring a cup of tea aggressively: Oh, so now I'm TOO friendly? There's no pleasing you.

Genya, who broke into their house an hour ago: Two sugars please.

Aoi: Coming right up.

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Inosuke, knocking on the door: Genya, open up!

Genya: It all started when I was a kid.

Inosuke: That's not what I-

Aoi: Let them finish!

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Inosuke: PEASANT. I REQUIRE SUSTENANCE.

Zenitsu: You know there are other ways to say you want McDonalds.

Inosuke: FOUL PLEBEIAN. YOU DARE SPEAK AGAINST ME-

Zenitsu: *sigh* What do you want?

Inosuke: Chicken nuggets please.

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Kanao: Are you trying to give me a fucking aneurysm?

Zenitsu: Pretty sure we all are.

Tanjiro: I wasn't.

Inosuke: | was.

Genya: I was trying to stop them, for your consideration.

Nezuko: I just cause aneurysms naturally.

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Genya: *eating a cinnamon roll*

Tanjiro: Cannibalism.

Genya: *confused chewing noises*

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ��୧ ────

Inosuke: *heading out to see Aoi*

Zenitsu: Don't do anything I wouldn't do!

Inosuke: I think I crossed that line when I got a date.

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Nezuko: *Gasp*

Aoi: WHAT??

Nezuko: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish?

Aoi: *inhales*

Kanao, in another room with Genya: Why can I hear screeching?

── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────── ୨୧ ────

Nezuko: Why are Kyojuro and Obanai sitting with their backs to each other?

Senjuro: They had a fight.

Nezuko: Then why are they holding hands?

Senjuro: They get sad when they fight.