#landing action yeah!!

[baltharino]

Rikako Aida & Aika Kobayashi during Landing Action Yeah!! Aqours World Love Live! ASIA TOUR 2019

[vegaseatsass]

DFF Finale

Alright alright alright that took me on a rollercoaster like some REAL high lows in that episode, I love an ambiguous ending but also I crave so much more closure owwwwwwww However for now I'm just coming to share my theory. Ever since this post pointed out that New hallucinated Non in his death t-shirt, I've been sitting on the idea that the Janta drugs have actual supernatural qualities. These aren't just any old hallucinogens New cooked up, they're a strain of a drug that serves a specific purpose for a death cult. So now that EVERYONE hallucinated Non in his death t-shirt, even though Tee is the only one who ever saw him in it, and it's highkey unlikely that he described the shirt Non was wearing to them at any time (and certainly not to New when he hallucinated Non wearing it years ago), I would like to propose the theory that the ghost of Non they see is a very real very true ghost, and the things he says to them are very real very true things. The "thank you" he gives New is not a figment of New's troubled mind, but what Non actually has to say to him, just like everything else he says to everyone else: their actions may be the product of their guilt, but Non is actually speaking his ghostly mind to each of them.

[bicheetopuff]

Every day that goes by, the more terrified I become of the my hero academia live action project

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

anon because im on the wrong blog rn but i wanted to say i really enjoyed your witness analysis post. i havent really seen many comparisons about the colonisation aspect of what the witness does (though to be fair, im not really in touch with fandom). so it was nice to these themes touched on especially so eloquently !

Greetings anon!!!

Thank you so much for the kind message!! I deeply appreciate your words as the Witness is a character that is extremely close to me, quite literally being one of my favorite characters in media ever and someone who revolves in my head like a rotisserie chicken 24/7!!!

I truly believe that if you don’t see the content you desire in the world, you should go out and make it, so when I didn’t see mountains of the most bitter vitriol towards the Witness, I knew I had a job to do!

I’ve been left to pick up the pieces of the Witness’ long legacy of reducing my people and culture to what is “palatable and profitable”, my family has a prophecy (a destiny if you will) that I will form my own Witness in this life to enact an ideology and force that idea on me, I was once a precursor who raged against a silent god by abandoning my self, I’ve met many disciples of the Witness in my life and many more victims of it. This character has been so firmly tied to my life that I just had to share my perspective with the world in an attempt to make people understand just how important the lessons we can learn from it are!! I could talk about the Witness for eons!!!

There has been a lot of Witness works ( fanfiction, memes, art work, etc.) produced and a lot of it has been absolutely phenomenal work!! They are all clearly created by people who have a deep affection for the character that clearly shows in their fantastic pieces and I truly love that, but a lot of what I saw left me feeling restless because none of it (from what I’ve seen) truly tapped into the absolute nightmarish nature of what this entity has brought down on civilizations. I really wanted to bring in another voice on this character because I couldn’t be moved so deeply by its defeat and sit still on it!!

Again, if no one is making the content you would like to see, make it! That’s actually the biggest reason why I started making posts for this blog, I wanted to help others see that there is much more to talk about when it comes to the Witness than its philosophical views on reality and it’s big eyes (as well as not keeping my trillions of thoughts in my head).

To me, characters as awful as it should always have their victims struggles voiced first and foremost and the Witness is much bigger than itself for it has forced its necrotizing fingers into the lives of everyone in the Destiny universe.

The story and focus will never be on the Witness for me, it will always be on its victims and their recovery.

I think about how I struggle to find traditional names for my heritage because everyone has a name from the beliefs of our imperialists instead of the victims they forced to be remembered as necessary casualties on a path to “civilization and salvation” and I am putting the Witness through a million glass tables.

I think about how all I know of my relatives who were born not that long ago was that they were only allowed to be “field workers and strong believers “ and here comes a massive anvil over its head.

Speaking on this matter, I am still working on a small thought dump on how Rhulk is a prime example of someone who sheds their cultural and personal ties to go from victim to perpetrator and it’s been hard!!

In all honesty, it has really taken an emotional and mental toll on me for how deep it cuts and how much of it reminds me of all that could of have been in the lives of so many if they weren’t groomed into believing that the only way to get justice for their lives (lives affected by the conditions the ideological groomers use to be opportunistic) is to take on a position where they are a subjugator, not the subjugated.

It’s very painful to write about and Rhulk as a character makes the very core of my being ache as every time I read Shattered Suns, I have to sit back and clench my fists at the invasive, predatory behavior the Witness displays towards Lubraens. Those same words it coerces Rhulk with are the same ones that resulted in hollow people in my life who were prideful in turning their backs on their cultural ways and community if it meant gaining the security and sense of righteousness the oppressors offered. The Witness preyed on Rhulk and turned him into something truly awful, something I see so often that I cannot stand by and not say anything on it.

I wish to see Rhulk content that does not focus on him just being a devoted disciple of the Witness or some super strong villain who’s cool, I really want to see more content touching on what happened to make him fall so far into the Witness’ clutches and views him as the victim he is! I want to make content that shows how REPUGNANT their relationship is and how Rhulk is an example of the need to provide preventative community and understanding to those vulnerable to ideological grooming, especially in our modern era where harmful beliefs are ever present and looking to find people to sustain them!

This is getting very long, but in essence, thank you! Thank you so much anon for your words!!

I truly believe in the importance of POC voices, especially black voices, in fandom spaces as we have been left out of a lot of discussions that have heavy implicit (and explicit) ties to race and culture when it comes to sci-fi and fantasy settings! We get strength from community and understanding, it is how we can better make fandom spaces comfortable for all!! By giving my views on the Witness and its ills, I wish to help the Destiny fandom understand some of the ties it has to real life issues and hope that it helps people be more conscious of the teachings in media they invest in!

It was so nice to see people contribute to my Witness post with their own connections or point out connections other people have made like with evangelicalism and Polish fascism. I’m very glad many people can unite on the fact that the Witness is abominable and that we can face irl Witnesses by defeating ignorance hand in hand!! My understanding and beliefs are always evolving with new information and I’m always happy to grow alongside others!

Just remember guys, make the content you want to see in life and if you are a POC, voicing your discomfort or offering your perspective on matters discussed in sci-fi and fantasy settings is essential to getting proper representation in media that is done with nuance and respect as well as help both audiences and writers craft better narratives!!!

And trust me, the Witness (especially the behaviors it displays towards Rhulk and it’s other victims) makes me deeply, deeply,

deeply

deeply

Uncomfortable.

I will never forgive the Witness for all it has done and I never want to see it pleased with its work EVER. The only redeeming I want to hear about the Witness is how it can redeem this coupon for my fist in its face, free of charge, guaranteed by me, filled with the force of all my relatives who did not live long enough to see that they could have always mattered in this world.

[brick-van-dyke]

If there's one thing I've respectively noticed from Zionists and defenders of Israeli war crimes, it's that every source, argument and potential avenue to explore each explanation is riddled with cherry picking, moving the goalposts and mental gymnastics to explain why their conclusions, which typically are barely even related to the sources they use, somehow overshadow literal reality and what we see with our own eyes.

While scrolling, one example I came across was the repetitive misrepresentation of BLM, antifa and quotes from Martin Luther King Jr, as well as statistics, scholarly journal articles and government website information. These are all good sources, yet every single time they're mangled completely until the only possible "interpretation" of any of them is "well Israel is right to defend itself after shorting rockets beforehand because the retaliation was brutal and all Arabs are bad by default therefore". As if any of these sources are even about individual exceptions of Israel versus hatred towards Arabs.

I think what I find most absurd, as someone in the middle of their own studies, is how every bit of critical thinking and logic goes out the window as they do every single thing possible to do what professors worldwide say NOT to do when evaluating sources. It's like watching a race to see who can tangle and misconstrue scientific information to fit their world view the fastest. Then said people say "um actually I studied at university before so it's actually not wrong that I'm doing this exact this everyone is warned not to do because I have a permit". Ignorance I can forgive, but willful and arrogant manipulation? That's another thing entirely.

[clowningaroundmars]

previously:

Here, the Doctor leaps over to the side, narrowly avoiding a fist to the jaw and swinging 42’s still unconscious body into the air… letting him tumble over the ledge.

"Catch!" He announces brazenly.

42 falls down, down, down.

Gwen watches in horror.

here we are you guys!!! the final chapter! are you guys ready? :)

don't worry, i won't play with your guys' hearts for too long! well. i mean

oh yeah, and remember that death tw on chapter 1? well yeah. no gory details ofc but just mind the warning

anyways, enjoy! :D it's the final stretch

<< part 4 of 4

Doc Ock cackles gleefully as he watches 42’s body tumble into the air and down onto the concrete parking lot several stories below.

With one last burst of rage-filled strength, Gwen football-tackles him over the ledge while his guard is down, sending all three of them sailing through the cool night air.

Doc Ock clearly doesn’t expect this, if his screaming was anything to go by.

But Gwen wasn’t concerned at all with his idiotic cries, she was a woman on a mission and by god if she wasn’t going to complete it!

If she failed two of her friends and directly lead to both of their demises, then what the hell was she wearing the mask for?

No, this ends now.

She quickly grabs Doc Ock by the back of his neck and grips onto another one of his tentacles as they fall through the air, ripping it straight out of the node on his spinal cord with all of her might.

“N-no-- don’t!! AAAAAAAAAUGHH!!”

The Doctor’s soul-wrenching yowl of pain might’ve made Gwen feel a little bad… under normal circumstances. But at the moment, her every bit of focus was pointed towards Miles-42 like a compass pointing True North, and she wasn’t letting him out of her sight now.

Making split-second calculations, she kicked the Doctor’s body off of her and used the tentacle’s technological properties as a last-ditch effort to hook herself onto a nearby streetlamp, swinging her entire body’s weight with a loud grunt of effort.

She intercepted Miles’ flailing body in mid-air and succeeded in grabbing a hold of him, swinging down onto the ground safely and falling onto the concrete. She crashed onto her knees and rolled over a few times, clutching 42's head protectively all the way down.

The Doctor… didn’t make it.

With a sickening crunch and splatter, he was a disgusting mess of red, wet garbage on the concrete. His tentacles weren't long enough to reach back up to ledge of the building and his slower reflexes caused him to miss the streetlamp entirely.

His remaining tentacles laid next to him just as limp and as dead as he was.

Well, shit. That was gonna be a nasty surprise for the paramedics to find later on, huh.

Gwen sighed with relief as she laid her head back down and took a minute to catch her breath.

What a day. She wanted this to be completely over now, but… she knew that despite this small moment of relief, she wasn’t quite out of the woods yet. Literally.

But also…

“Miles,” she grunts with effort, every muscle in her body crying out as she pushes herself off of her elbows to sit up.

Miles-42 is laid across her lap now and showing zero signs of waking up anytime soon. Gwen’s heart started kicking into overdrive again, and she held him in her hands…

Just like you held Peter… after killing him, an evil little voice sneered at her from the back of her mind.

“Peter? Peter, oh god. What did you do?!” Gwen sobbed, excavating her beloved friend from the rubble of her school’s gymnasium.

He wasn’t gonna make it… oh god, he really wasn’t going to make it. The poor boy could barely open his eyes, and his bloody, beaten face was something that was going to haunt her in her nightmares forever.

It was etched into the back of her mind, the back of her damn eyelids, especially when to her delight-- or horror, it was hard to tell in the moment-- he managed to crack open his swollen eyes and look directly into hers.

“Gw-- Gwen…” he coughed, weakly.

Gwen continued to cry. “No no no no no, no, no! What did you do!? Why?!” She pleaded, wanting any answer, anything to hold onto.

“I… I wanted to be special. Like you,” he managed, even weaker than before.

Gwen knew it. She could feel the thready pulse of his heartbeat growing weaker and weaker with every passing second, and time was running out.

But she still held on.

“… Peter?” She sucked in a breath.

“Peter?”

“Peter?!”

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“Miles?!”

Gwen sobbed once more, clutching yet another beloved friend in her arms, in a position eerily similar to that fateful night. “Miles!”

All of the feelings she felt the night that her best friend had died came crashing back down and flooding into her chest like a tsunami.

She sniffled angrily, ripping her mask off of her face and working to pry Miles’ mask off of his own face, too.

... Damn it! What the hell was this stupid thing made out of?!

She didn’t want to break his tech, as complicated and extremely well-made as it was. She knew it was valuable and expensive to make, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

She needed to see if he was still possibly alive, if he could give her a sign or something, and she wasn’t going to be able to do it with this stupid mask in the way!

She didn’t trust her shaking hands to be able to read his pulse in this state… she needed to see his face.

After a couple of minutes of careful jabbing and prying, Gwen was finally frustrated enough to just slide Miles right off of her lap and pry the whole thing off of his face with one firm pull.

She managed to do so without injuring him even more, and immediately got to checking the color of his lips in the low lighting of the near-empty parking lot. She fussed over him, sniffling and wiping her tears all the while.

It seemed like his bleeding stopped for now at least, but that was without even knowing how much he had lost in the first place.

“Miles… Miles?! Please,” she begged as she held him in her arms once more. “Answer me, please! Let me know you’re still alive, anything! Wiggle your eyebrows or…” she sniffled, “I… I don’t know but god, please, anything!”

What the hell did Doc Ock even do to this kid anyways?

She examined his face once more through the tears in her eyes and noticed a new injury that looked relatively fresh, still bleeding somewhere from his temple.

Maybe he knocked Miles out for a longer time in his mad dash to the roof… and if that was true… he really, really could be dead.

Miles-42 wasn’t a superpowered being like the rest of the Spider Band, he was a regular kid with cool gadgets and intense at-home training, but a regular kid nonetheless. Gwen could recover from a hard head injury herself just fine, all she would have to do is just sleep the pain off.

But Miles…

Miserably, Gwen sunk down even lower to the ground and sobbed her eyes out, tears wetting her face and staining the spray-painted Prowler logo on Miles’ shirt.

She stays like this, clutching onto the limp body of someone she would’ve been happy to call her friend-- especially after all they’ve been through today-- and now he won’t even live to see the fruits of his labor.

Fuck.

Gwen’s wandering thoughts takes her over to his uncle Aaron’s face, how he was going to react to the news of his nephew’s untimely and unfortunate death.

Gwen thought about Rio and… well, she cried even harder.

But she didn’t get to finish because… Miles then stirred a bit, his breathing speeding up a bit before he laid his head back and sighed softly.

Gwen stopped crying. She was shocked, staring back into his blank face with wide, teary eyes.

… Was it her imagination, then? Did she want Miles to be alive so badly that she convinced herself that he moved a bit while she wept?

No. No, she’s got to suck it up, stop letting her emotions get the best of her and give it a real try this time.

Steadying her breathing and wiping the snot from her nose, she brushes her hair back from her face and turns Miles’ face towards a nearby streetlamp that casts down a cold, white light onto the scene.

With gentle fingers, she lifts up one of his eyelids, then his other eyelid, and then finally bends down to listen to his chest as closely as she can.

She hears a heartbeat, though not so loudly underneath all of the gear he wears, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

Miles really stirs this time, groaning and sucking in a breath as he slowly comes back online.

Gwen laughs wetly, wiping more of her tears and boogers and sadness away, only tears of joy left brimming in her eyes.

“Miles! Oh my god, you’re alive… you’re alive! You made it!” She announces gleefully, giving him a happy little squeeze.

“Ow,” Miles answers hoarsely, squinting in the harsh, cold light of the streetlamp overhead and coughing a bit.

“S-sorry, sorry. I’m just. Well, y’know pretty excited that you’re alive. I thought that you were actually dead for a minute there, bud! You really gave me a scare!” She laughs and sniffles.

Miles finally cracks an eye open long enough to exhale a bit and lay his head back down.

“Uhhh… who are you again?” He mumbles, and Gwen’s heart sinks.

Oh no.

“What? Uh, i-it’s me, Gwen! Y’know, the girl who you’ve been fighting to escape this horrible building with this whole night? Oh no… is your head injury that bad?” She frets.

Miles then cracks a smile, not quite being able to laugh but getting pretty damn close to doing so.

“Gwendy, relax. I know who you are. Joke,” he explained, and it earned him another head bump from being promptly dropped right back onto the hard ground.

“Ow,” he complained.

“You are a dick,” Gwen replied, folding her arms over her chest. She didn’t stop smiling through her tears, though.

“Were you crying over me? Oh my god, you were totally crying,” Miles says with a smile, not making any movements to get up at all.

Gwen unfolds her aching legs from underneath her and stands up on her knees. “Shut up. Stop talking. You’ve sustained a critical brain injury and you need to not make stupid decisions before we get you out of here, alright?”

Miles chuckles quietly. “Mmnyeah, true. Lemme keep my mouth shut.”

He wasn’t slurring his speech or confusing her for another person, so that was a good sign.

He wasn’t moving any of his limbs, though. So… that was possibly a bad sign.

“Can you, uh,” Gwen starts, glancing all around her as she fully stands up, “can you walk? Or sit up? I can carry you, but I need to know that you’re not paralyzed from the neck down first. I don’t wanna risk any more injuries, y’know?”

Miles wiggles his feet and flexes his hands inside of his gauntlets for a bit before laying back down and sighing again.

“Yeah, I can move my limbs. I don’t think anything’s broken… except for this massive fuckin’ migraine I got goin’ on right now. Just, uhm. Just gimme a minute.”

Gwen continues looking over her shoulder. The blades of a chopper are vibrating through the air several miles away but it’s gaining speed quickly, and steadily getting closer.

“Okay, you might wanna hurry up on that, because we’ve got company coming and we still need to get the hell out of here,”

Miles blinks on the ground for a few more seconds, gears very obviously turning in his head as he does.

After a few seconds, he says, “okay. Help me up, then. Slowly,”

It takes them several more minutes of pained grunting and a slow ascent up to get Miles standing again, but once they’re both steady on their feet, they get a move on.

Gwen has one of his arms over her shoulder, steadying him and carrying some of his weight.

“Wait,” Miles says suddenly, just as they’re rounding a corner of the building where several guards and scientists are still milling around. There are a few big white buses parked close by, most likely hired to transport the personnel away from the facility. Some are already sat inside.

Gwen ducks back around the corner and takes a peek at the scene before turning her attention back to her friend.

“Shit, you’re right. There’s a lot of people out there, most likely waiting for Octavius or something. We’ve gotta find a way too book it out of here undetected, though…”

“Mh, yep,” Miles grunts, sucking in air through his teeth for a second. “Ow, sorry. My head’s killin’ me… which kinda sucks, ‘cause my escape plan was to just hot-wire a car and hightail it outta here.”

Gwen laughed incredulously. “Oh my god. That was your grand escape plan this whole time?” She shakes her head. “In every single universe… Miles Morales is the exact same dork I always hate to love,”

“Psshhyeah right, hate to love. You’re not foolin’ me,” Miles smirks at her exasperated expression.

Gwen rolls her eyes and instructs Miles to lean against the wall and stay put while she goes to search for a viable vehicle they could steal.

“Cool. Good luck. I definitely won’t die,” Miles informs her, which just makes her roll her eyes again before bounding away.

Time for some espionage, Gwen thinks to herself as she skirts the outer edges of the parking lot and tries to avoid being seen by the several other armed personnel still waiting around to receive confirmation that they can now depart.

After a little bit, a few ambulance trucks pull up with flashing red lights and the paramedics jump out, which actually gives her some relief. The professionals were on the job now, everything was taken care of; they also served as a perfect distraction from what she was doing…

Which was looping around the entire building’s perimeter and seeing which car was left unattended and unlocked.

She really didn’t want to have to break any windows, especially because she needed to keep as quiet as possible since she still needed to go back and fetch Miles… but if all options were exhausted…

Bingo!

She eventually came across a parked Ford F-250 near a line of trees located just behind all of the ambulances and the commotion. It was unlocked (haha, sucker!) and was perfectly empty, ready for the taking.

Gwen couldn’t believe that despite failure after failure plaguing her on this day, her luck finally turned around at the last minute… what a relief!

Overhead, the chopper finally reached its destination, drowning out every sound around them with its spinning blades as it slowly lowered itself down onto the helipad located at the top of the building. Leaves were whipped violently into the air, trees swayed and shook with the force of the winds.

Gwen rejoiced again at the added distraction that would surely help with her sweet escape.

The helicopter crew wouldn't find much waiting for them up there, save for the unconscious bodies of several brutally-beaten henchmen, of course.

She fetched her friend who was now sitting with his knees tucked up under his chin against the wall, and together they limped their way back to the truck and climbed in.

Once inside, they successfully hot-wired it using Miles’ gadgets. Then Miles went to climb out of the driver’s seat.

“Uhh wait, huh. Where’re you going?” Gwen asks from the passenger seat.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? You’re driving. Hop in.” Miles groans as he lowers himself from the high-as-hell cab, clutching at his side.

Gwen titters nervously. “Ohhh, no, no I’m not! I don’t even have my license yet, I can’t drive!”

Miles takes his sweet time painstakingly climbing into the back seat of the truck. He shirks his pack off, throws it onto the floor of the cab, and stretches himself out over the seats to lay down.

“Yep, I don’t have my license either, girl, you don’t see me chickening out when I’m picked to be the getaway driver!” He remarks, once comfortable.

Gwen huffs in annoyance, leaping over to the driver’s side and locking all of the doors once she makes sure they’re shut tight.

“Dude, forreal! I have no clue how to operate a truck like this! The gear shift isn’t even in the right place,” she complains.

Miles cracks one eye open. “Please tell me your dimension doesn’t have y’all driving on the left side of the road…”

Gwen huffs again. “No, I'm not British, Miles. I meant… this looks pretty high-tech for me and… what do all of these buttons even do? …Is this a touch screen?”

“Gwen, seriously, I get that this is a brand new experience for you but listen: there are like, no laws in this dimension. Literally not even kidding. Just pull up the GPS on that touch screen, punch in my address and we can get going. Left pedal’s gas, right pedal’s the brakes.”

She hesitated, but... there was no arguing with that! Who was Gwen to make decisions in a dimension she wasn’t even a part of, really? If Miles told her that his dimension ignored all traffic laws, well… then, when in Rome, right?

And besides, who else was getting them both to safety if not her? She needed to suck it up before they were noticed by any personnel sweeping the area, or before any cops showed up.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“Well,” Gwen said nervously, both hands on the wheel and her eyes directly on the road in front of her, “bon voyage, then! Let’s pray I don’t get the both of us killed,”

“Vamos con dios,” Miles mumbled, an arm draped over his eyes. He quickly lost consciousness once again.

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About half an hour into their drive (which-- aside from terrible braking every now and then-- was admittedly pretty smooth, all things considered), Gwen pulls over to a greasy 24-hour fast food place that seemed to serve all of the shittiest, unhealthiest food ever invented under the sun.

She woke Miles up and asked him what his order would be, borrowed his jacket to cover up her unique costume’s design, and ducked inside.

She was surprised to see Miles up and sitting in the truck bed when she returned with their food, legs swinging like he hadn’t just gotten injured helping her fight a menacing four-armed madman not even an hour and a half ago.

He looked the worse for wear, braids frizzed out as they hung right over his shoulders like they usually did, but he was more alert now than he had been before. He looked fine, given the circumstances.

They sat side-by-side, gazing up at what scarce stars there were out in the early morning sky, the edges of the horizon peeking a slight blush of pink through the trees.

Gwen scarfed down her triple bacon burger and inhaled her large fries, only stopping every once in a while to take a sip of her extra-large milkshake.

A mildly amused Miles enjoyed his own fries and meatball sub in companionable silence.

“Feelin’ better?” Gwen asks, still munching on the last bit of her burger, which has now thoroughly stained the lap of her costume with grease.

Miles laughs, wrapping up the second half of his sandwich for later. “Yeah, a quick nap and a good meal helps a lot,”

Gwen hums in thought. “You were out for… a while. Like, back at the parking lot. I was getting real worried there, actually,” she admits.

Miles glances at her, studying her face for a second. “… How long? I mean, you were crying, so I guess it was a while,”

Gwen rolls her eyes. “Can you stop bringing the crying back up again? I just… I got scared, okay? You didn’t tell me what your grand escape plan was before you… uh, passed out, so I mean...”

Miles is skeptical. “Uh huh, the escape plan. That’s what you were worried about that whole time, right?” He ribbed her a bit, intending for it to come off light-heartedly.

The tense silence that fell in that moment made him a bit nervous, though.

Gwen looked… upset.

He backpedaled. “Uhhh, I mean. Yeah, yeah, the escape plan! The escape plan... woulda been a real shame if I croaked back there before telling you what it was. Of course.” He clears his throat awkwardly.

Gwen offers him a small smile and starts clearing the wrappings and the trash around her folded legs.

“I… uh. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this before. Well, not all of the details but. I don’t really do the whole friend thing anymore because of… I mean, I lost a friend before. And you’re Miles and-- I mean, not my Miles but the other Miles is-- was my friend, and I think we’re cool now, but when I saw you falling I just…”

Gwen sighs. “Sorry. I’m rambling. This is awkward.”

Miles leans back against the side of the truck bed, positioned in the same way that they were sitting back when they were having a bit of a heart-to-heart in the vents of Octavius’ compound. Funny how little moments like this seemed so serendipitous like that.

He studied her face again in the yellowing lights of the restaurant’s signs, thinking for a bit.

“Miles… the other Miles kind of told me some stuff. Not too many details, sure, but. Yeah,” he offered, trying to signal to her that he was down for a chat, no matter how depressing the topic got.

Not very many people in his world got to understand him on a deeper level, not even his own girlfriend. It was nice sitting next to someone who dealt with just as much trauma as him, if not more. It was... an opportunity for connection. Why not take it?

Gwen looked up at him. “Oh, you two talk about me?”

“Yeah, you’re all we talk about, your highness,” he laughs, then sobers up again. “Nah. I mean, y’know like, we talk about everybody. And he likes you, you know. So, yeah... sometimes you get brought up.”

Gwen sighs, leaning her head back against the truck bed and looking up at the stars above. “He shouldn’t, honestly. I think he can find someone from his dimension that… that’s gonna actually appreciate him, you know?” She looks back down into Miles’ eyes. “Not a self-deprecating thing, by the way. Don’t worry,”

Miles holds his hands up with an easy smile. “Not worrying,”

“Well good!” Gwen smirks. Then she shrugs. "I'm not sure it'd work out between us. That's all."

“... So about that back there… I took a look in the side mirror and uh,” he gestures to his shirt, the Prowler insignia now slightly messed up and blurred in some spots thanks to Gwen’s salty tears. "Yeah."

Gwen looks away, ashamed. “Yeah,” is all she says.

“Was your friend… a good friend?” Miles prodded a bit, trying to seem nonchalant about it.

Gwen saw right through it, even when she was purposefully avoiding looking at him. “Yeah. He was. My best friend,”

“Damn,” Miles replies. “I reminded you of him that much?”

Gwen laughs bitterly. “Don’t flatter yourself. I mean… I thought of you as my friend, which… y’know, you are, until we get to go our separate ways and forget all of this even happened. And I uh… I don’t like seeing friends get hurt. That’s all.”

Miles bobbed his head slowly, digesting this bit of information and taking a sip of his own milkshake.

"He, uhm." Gwen swallowed. "He died in my arms."

It was all she could say.

Miles winced because he understood. He really, really did.

After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. “Listen. I, uh. I wouldn’t mind calling you a friend after all of this, if you don’t mind. Like, even after we go home,” He strategically avoided eye contact with her. "We been through too much tonight to call each other strangers, right?"

Gwen smiled at him again. It was a sad smile. “Why don’t you have any friends, by the way? You seem cool. Well. When you’re not in work mode, that is.”

Miles chuckled. “Wow. Do I seem that lonely?”

Gwen shrugs. “The other Miles also tells me some things… sometimes. You just happen to come up every now and then, that’s all,” she manages as playfully as possible. She throws him a wink over her shoulder.

Miles' upper lip quirked up. “That little traitor. I’m giving him a wedgie the next time I see ‘im.”

Gwen barks out a laugh. “Good luck! He’s ten times stronger than you and he can go invisible,”

“Yep,” Miles nods to himself. “You definitely still have a crush on him.”

Gwen throws a fry at him and then they decide to finally dump their trash and continue their journey back into the city before the sun really started waking up and blinding poor Gwen, who was already learning how to drive on the fly and probably didn’t need the relentless sun rays beaming directly into her eyes while she was still at it.

They rode the rest of the way in much better spirits.

They drive past Newark, New Jersey and before Gwen knows it, they’re driving through Manhattan and reaching the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Okay okay, okay, okay okay okayokayokay,” she mutters to herself, hands firmly gripping the steering wheel and leaving slight indentations in the material. “I got this, I got this,”

Miles is now seated in the passenger seat, seatbelt firmly clicked in place. He’s leaned forward, ready to stop Gwen at any moment and pull the emergency brakes.

“Yeah, yeah, you got this, you got this! Don’t be intimidated by all the other cars around you, this ain’t our truck, remember? Everyone else is gonna be doing whatever the hell they wanna do, but don’t do anything stupid on the bridge, right? Otherwise, just keep your foot hovering over the brakes, like I told you before. Let this truck coast,”

Gwen tries her best to internalize all of his rapid-fire advice and not accidentally find herself flooring the gas by accident at the same time. She’s pretty sure her finger marks are going to be sunk into the polyurethane foam and possibly even the metal underneath forever.

She didn’t know who in the world owned this truck, but whoever he was, he was going to be real pissed off when he discovered it in the future.

Which, actually, speaking of…

“Sooo, how uh… where are we going to put this truck once we’re done with it? Should we… pull over soon, leave it in a parking lot somewhere and take the train the rest of the way?”

Miles chuckled. “Leave it? You kiddin’? This truck is basically brand new, pristine. We’re taking this straight to my uncle’s chop shop, we’re gonna take this stuff apart, sell a part here and there, keep the rest for our own gear.”

Gwen gave him a cursory glance. “Uh, your uncle has an auto shop? Huh. Dunno why that surprises me.”

“It’s not a legit business, that’s why. He only runs it as a front. We use it mostly to bring in abandoned cars, use the metals, wires and glass for our gear, other weapons we make to sell. Sometimes Aaron fixes other people’s cars and bikes for some money, though… and bribes.”

Gwen chuckles a bit. “Sounds about right. But I guess I don’t blame you guys. Gotta do what you can to… survive… right?”

She trails off as they get closer to Brooklyn's residential areas and see a rampant spike in crimes. Gwen’s Spider Sense goes off as she sees crime after crime being committed in the brand new hours of the dawn, when the sky hasn’t even finished lightening up to a nice baby blue yet.

“… I see that you guys, uhm… these New Yorkers here in this dimension are a… lively bunch, huh?” Gwen comments distractedly as she drives past someone actively committing grand theft auto.

“Yyyyep,” Miles sighs. “Home, sweet home.”

“You ever wonder what it’s like to live anywhere else in the world sometimes?”

“Only everyday. But us Morales never run from anything. So,” Miles shrugs.

Gwen gives him a fond look.

"Sure do wish I could stop some of these people, though-- wait. Is that man mugging that other guy over there?" She cranes her neck over the wheel to get a better look.

Miles grabs the wheel to keep them from veering into a line of parked cars. "How about we just keep driving, okay? Eyes on the road, girl."

Gwen laughs sheepishly. "Right! Sorry. Spiderwoman instincts."

"Yeah, trust me, I get it." Miles replies flatly. "Don't get distracted. This crime's ours to fight, not yours. Just get us home, like, alive please?"

After finally rolling up to Aaron’s garage at five in the morning, bright and early, Miles lowers himself down from the cab once again and limps over to ring the doorbell.

He presses it in a series of patterns that Gwen only vaguely recognizes before the metal garage door eventually starts rumbling open, revealing a slightly disheveled Aaron still in his PJs, but with a fly coat on as per usual, and some nice-looking Timbs. He was casually leaning against a vintage Cadillac.

He held a mug of coffee in one hand that read “WORLD’S WORST UNCLE” in bold lettering on one side.

Gwen bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“About damn time,” Aaron grumbles, scratching at his beard and pushing off of the Cadillac. “What took y’all so long?”

Miles only gives him a cursory glance before going around the front of the truck to help Gwen down from the cab and dive into the backseat to retrieve his stuff.

Aaron raises an eyebrow at her.

“Uh, hello… sir. I’m Gwen!” She responds, mostly to dispel the awkwardness that hung in the air.

Aaron eyes the truck as he paces casually towards the two teens, gaze occasionally flicking down to the purple jacket that Gwen still sported... that very clearly belonged to his nephew.

"What, uh," Aaron starts, "what... happened to you two?"

"Ah, you know. High risk life-threatening mission, the usual!" Gwen quips on auto-pilot. Her mouth moves faster than her brain does sometimes.

Miles followed Aaron’s gaze and quickly stepped in front of her, holding his pack out for him to take.

“I got it,” he informed Aaron. “All of it.”

Aaron made a noise of approval, taking the pack and examining it.

It still had a few cobwebs dangling off of it. He hummed in thought, eyeing his nephew once more.

“Sooo, we’re gonna go upstairs now, cool? I gotta clean this super awful and deep wound I got from… uh, saving Gwen here. Yeah, she was gonna be sushi if I didn’t jump in front of her. It was Doc Ock, by the way,” Miles continued, as they both made their way into the garage and towards the door in the back. “Doc Ock, that we killed, too. By the way. Mostly me, of course. But, y’know. No need to thank me or anything!”

Aaron laughs and shakes his head. "I'm tellin' Rio, kid. I am! I'm snitchin', I don't care."

"What!" Miles exclaims indignantly. "About what?!"

Aaron's shoulders are shaking. "I'm tellin' her you got another girl around now,"

Gwen laughed loudly, grabbing Miles by the back of his shirt and yanking him towards the back exit door.

“I do not! Do not call her! Bye!” Miles called out before stumbling into the landing that lead up to the elevator of his uncle’s building.

Miles apologized about his uncle in the elevator ride up, and when he opened the door to Aaron's spacious apartment, he kicked his shoes off and sighed with relief.

“Make yourself at home, by the way… mi casa es su casa, and all that,” he says nonchalantly as he peels his shirt off of his body, shedding gear on the floor all the way to the couch.

Gwen only stands by the door, jacket in hand, fiddling nervously with the material.

“I should… I should go.” She finally says after a moment of hesitation. Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. “I shouldn’t stick around if I really don’t need to--”

“Why, ‘cause of Spider Society rules?” Miles scoffs, pulling a first aid kit from under the couch and inspecting his wound. “Am I still bleeding on the side of my face, by the way?”

Gwen sighs. “No. And, no. You’ve stopped bleeding a while ago. Look…” she dumps his jacket onto the back of a computer chair and looks down at her watch. “This little adventure was very fun and all… but you got hurt because of me, and I should--”

She stops when she sees Miles’ wound. It looked nothing like she’d ever seen before on a person... and she’s seen her fair share of wounds.

The gaping… thing that Miles was inflicted with didn’t look like any wound she’d even experienced before.

It was green, still had a slight glow to it from the weird snake-like marks winding out from the center. The dried blood scabbing over didn’t bother her at all, she knew how ugly a stab wound could look most days, but the green glow…

It looked a lot like the glowing green circuits back in that power box that she destroyed at Octavius’ compound…

She gasped.

Miles looked up from his inspection and they locked eyes.

“Uhhh,” his pupils bounce around for a bit, trying to think of something to say. “It’s… it’s not as bad as it looks?”

Gwen winces and then swiftly turns around, immediately punching in her own dimension into the watchface. “I’d love to stick around… but I gotta go. Don’t die on me, okay?” She tells him, speaking quickly.

Miles is caught by surprise, but eventually concedes. He places a hand over his wound and nods in her direction. “Uhm. Yeah, cool. Will do. You uh, you take it easy, too. Yeah?”

Gwen only offers him a sad smile in return and her own watercolor-bright portal is immediately opened. Then, she’s stepping through it like she’s being chased down.

After the portal closes, everything that was in the vicinity settles down after floating in the air a bit.

Miles is left alone blinking in the place it used to be, unsure as to why Gwen just dipped on him like that out of nowhere.

He looks back down to his wound, only maybe slightly infected, but still very sure that the poison most likely worked itself through his body by now. Especially after that meatball sub and the fries...

Maybe seeing poisoned wounds upset her or something, he figured, shrugging and going back into the open kit laid next to him.

He starts cleaning his wound with isopropyl alcohol, wincing every now and then when the chemical stung a little harder as he peeled away dried blood.

It isn’t until after he’s done that he remembers their conversation about her best friend, back in the truck at the fast food joint.

He shuts the kit closed, tucks it back underneath the couch, and picks his phone up off of the counter where he usually leaves it before heading out to dangerous missions.

He selects and copies Gwen’s number from the Spider Band groupchat that he never sends messages in, opens a new message box, and sends only one text.

Thanks, btw. For everything.

[deus-and-the-machina]

ffxiv garlemald discourse is so funny because people will go "ugh people just cant stand it when things aren't black and white" and then you look at how the empire are portrayed in stormblood and shadowbringers and its like hm. that seems like a pretty intense and accurate display of violent imperialism to me! Wow I wonder why people in this day and age may find it hard to feel sympathy for them or even hate them on principal. god its such a mystery.

the games like 50/50 to me on how it tackles these themes because I actually like the garlemald arc in EW, I think it has a lot of horrific and powerful scenes depicting how self destructive fascist propaganda and beliefs are, but I also think it doesn't go far enough on some fronts. the garleans' xenophobia is most notably and obstacle to getting them to accept the contingent's help, which is what they're there to do,

but there's never an admission of harm from any garleans on the uuuuuuuuh massive amount of war crimes the nations around them are still suffering from they're just kind of like "we misjudged you...but you actually wanted to help us all along" like yeah thats great now can we get you all some deprogramming because you keep talking about returning to your prime and glory days and I think we need to unpack some stuff you really SHOULDNT return to. im not even really talking about EW proper but the patches where things are a bit more chilled out and people are recovering.

It feels like they wanted to have their critique of imperialism and also have things end with the beauty of human connection and reaching out and these things just don't mesh well because hey a lot of your modern day audience is not gonna like having to treat people yelling xenophobic things at the cast and your character with kid gloves after you showed them hours and hours of the awful things these people's beliefs have done. especially in the present day hoo boy.

[jomnki]

time is a flat circle where we watch a country go to another country and randomly will civilians because "what if they're the enemies haha we totally aren't clearing people out to steal their land" etc and we all go "wow thats fucking messed up, good thing it won't happen again!" and then the exact same thing happens right now and the same people somehow are just incapable of accepting that fact that we are living through history and letting the thing we said wont happen again fucking happen again.

[starlight-eclipsed]

Hi! For Wild’s chapter in Like a Rag Doll, is it possible to get a translation for the old English sentence at the beginning? I think I got most of it but I am not sure about the “warden hi onyenes” part is supposed to be.

Thank you!

Hello! Just to be entirely honest before I share it--I absolutely based it off the stone tablets in totk. There are some other words that I researched before adding, but for the most part it was me squinting at the text and trying to figure out how the words worked XD

You did get most of it:

'Ond so the goddesse seyde tha a champion bith from the skie comen, to warden hi onyenes the wroth god of derknesse.’

"And so the goddess said that a champion born from the sky will come, to ward it against the wrathful god of darkness."

It's definitely not perfect, but I'm choosing to make it the consequence of time on poorly kept oral tradition.

But yeah, it's referencing how Sky had to hold back Demise, specifically the seals he would use. Hylia was 'speaking' in this part, as her plan to defeat Demise was explained to the audience ^-^

[satoriberry]

person a: i hate zionists, they're so evil, they can die for all i care about.

person b: OH SO YOU HATE JEWS? YOU WANT TO ERASE JEWS DON'T YOU?

^ are some of you mentally challenged?

[nicepersondisorder]

killing and violence (wrist pain is back)

[butwhypants]

Y'know, I don't think the pope should be criticizing wars in Israel. I. I think Eli Cohen might be right here. This might be an unacceptable thing for the Catholic Leadership to be saying. Didn't you guys fight Eight Fucking Wars over this place? With like a dozen ethnic cleanses each?

Yeah, I think this is at least a little unacceptable.

This was the entire statement... wow they're not even hiding it anymore.

[vonkarma2]

desire and future for rocio?

asks from november 2023 let’s go

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

Ok keeping it brief (lie). We have another instance of the character that wants to transcend humanity motivation <3 She started out having a vague longing for that concept in general, viewing it as possible through learning magic and just having access to the mysterious force lurking beneath the surface of the world– it would set her apart from normal humans, and that would be enough. Unfortunately, this not only failed to address many of the physical and social problems she was facing, but also forced her into various political situations she had no understanding of or patience for so everything became a lot more stressful if anything.

 She doesn’t really care about power, she cares about finding a form of existence that’s comfortable and easy and alienated from others, and just chose the “becoming god” brand because it was 1) readily available 2) matched with her personal interests and preferences. She also projects this desire onto other people, believing (like many wizards do in this setting) she had accessed the fundamental truths of human nature that ordinary people can’t grasp. Genuinely believing it would be better if everyone could dissolve into the force of magic oh christ this is just evangelion

It’s kind of funny to me that her current goal is both integral to her character and in a sense has always been part of her, but the specifics of it are relatively new. Like she was like sure I will dedicate my life to going to dimension 2 and killing gabriel nothing else matters nothing is important at all i will do this and die trying. Like 20 minutes after reading a conveniently placed journal about a guy who got lost in that dimension and died

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

Not only are they not taking steps to avoid it, I think the worst possible future is precisely what they’re actually chasing 😭ok well straight up committing suicide would probably be worse + that is something they’re aware of. The possibility of giving up on life to that extent really scares them because they’ve always had the goal of becoming a wizard + learning magic to drive them forward and are scared of the emptiness they would feel if they ever lost touch with those things. Similarly I think they are subconsciously hoping the people around them will hold them back, give them a reason to stay living among others. This is a little more unlikely when you are pushing people away though LOL, and in the end she is the only person that can save herself. (The perception of death is ofc very different in this universe, it’s not like she would just disappear; but it is seen as throwing this life and this identity away and leaving everything behind).

But yeah achieving their goal would definitely be the bad ending. In the world of the story, because it’s, like, a metaphor, the average human mind can’t really handle that kind of strain, so the position of godhood is not “knows all and sees all” or even “your sense of self is completely obliterated in the face of the cosmos”, just that you’re alone and scared and isolated and barely understand your own senses, while your instinctive emotional reactions wreak havoc on the people living in your realm. And it’s overstimulating. So it doesn’t have much in common with the vision of cosmic peace Rocio was hoping for, while also basically killing her + entirely separating her from those who care about her forever.

[glimpsesofeuterpe]

since tmp s1 is 30 eps long and there are 3 seasons (or so they say?) does it mean tmp will be around 90-ish eps

[nanaslutt]

stuck in the dryer w/ perv!Geto

ʚ cont: fem reader, rough sex, multiple orgasms, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talkkk!!

ʚ note: welcome back perv geto, we have missed u (gramarly spell checked this for me but i didn’t proof read it so possible grammar mistakes below)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

"Fuck, Suguru!" You yelled, the sound echoing around from where you were stuck inside the dryer. Somehow, when trying to get the last towel out of the dryer, your hair got caught on the inside of the dryer and you couldn't for the life of you get it out. Your abdomen was starting to cramp from holding yourself up while you were bent over in the dryer on your knees while you desperately yanked on your hair trying to get it unstuck.

When you heard his footsteps get closer, echoing the floorboards you sighed a little in relief. You tried to tilt your hair down to look at him between your legs, but your hair was too tied up and wouldn't allow for much movement. "What the hell am I looking at?" Suguru laughed. You couldn't help but notice he stopped walking, he just stood by the door and watched you wiggle your ass while you tried to free yourself.

"My fucking hair got stuck when I was getting your laundry," you yelled, "please help me get it out." Your only response was a laugh before he started walking again, closing the distance between you. "So you're stuck in the dryer then?" He responded, crouching down behind you on his feet. He placed his elbows on his knees and tilted his head at you from behind, mesmerized by your ass.

You obviously knew what it looked and sounded like, you weren't born yesterday. "Yeah, haha, so funny, I'm stuck in the dryer. "With your ass out." He added unhelpfully. "With my ass out."

"You know," he started, his large hand rubbing over your ass making you flinch before you relaxed again, "I could do some pretty bad things with you at my mercy like this," You sighed when he started massaging your ass with his hands in a circular motion, his thumbs dangerously close to where you now ached. "Don't even think about it, perv, it's starting to get hot in here, help me out." You couldn't help yourself from wiggling back into him when you attempted to pull your hair out again, the action only making him grope you with more effort.

"Yeah? Want me to help you out?" He responded, his tone so cocky you just knew he had a stupid smirk on his face. You were about to retort when he rubbed the pad of his thumb expertly against your clit through your shorts. "Suguru," you whimpered in a pathetic effort to get him to stop, the sound coming out more pathetic rather than serious.

"What baby?" He asked, the sound of his zipper moving making you clench your thighs in anticipation. "Thought you said you wanted help?" He chided, removing his thumb from your clit to grasp the band of your shorts. He slowly slid them down your ass, his lips making a smacking noise when he kissed the skin of your behind as he did. You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and suppressed a smile. This whole situation was so fucking cliche.

"I've thought about you like this, you know," Geto said, the sound of his hand moving over something long and thick making your mouth water. You would recognize the sound of him jerking off from anywhere. And by the sounds of it, his tip was already leaking so much from how wet it sounded. "You watch too much porn," you responded, rolling your eyes. Geto reached for your ass with one hand and spread you open, exposing your pussy more for him before he landed a wad of spit against your opening. "Haven't watched any since I got with you."

You gasped and gripped the opening of the dryer when he rubbed his spit and your combined wetness around. "You sure you wanted help getting out of here? Because you're so fucking wet right now, it's like you wanted me to fuck you when you're stuck like this," He laughed, pressing his tip against your entrance before relenting the pressure. He did that teasing movement over and over again, making your hole clench in anticipation only for him to pull away and leave you hanging.

"Jesus christ, if you're gonna fuck me then-" your words were cut off with a scream when he slammed his entire cock inside you all at once. The burn was barely recognizable when he immediately started up a brutal pace, "what was that?" he laughed through a groan. If your hair hadn't been stuck, you would've smacked your head agaisnt the inside of the dryer from how hard he was pounding you.

"Oh fuck, you're squeezing me so fighting tight, h-holy fuck baby," Geto groaned, gripping your waist in his large hands and pulling you back to meet his thrusts. All you could do was whine and take it as his fat tip abused your gspot repeatedly with expert precision. "Taking it so well, my cock was m-made for you." He must have really been enjoying himself, because you could feel him drip inside you, making the squelching noises between you louder and louder.

You pressed your thighs together to bring your clit some stimulation to deal with the onslaught of pressure he was giving the inside of your pussy. You crossed one ankle over the other and your shins kicked up between his legs uncontrollably from how hard he was giving it to you. "Do you like this? You want this?" He groaned, reaching his hand around your body to find your clit and rub it in fast circles. You nodded, knowing he couldn't hear you, but you hoped your loud whines were enough for him.

You thought you upset him when he pulled out completely with a grunt, but you almost cried when you felt his tongue breach the ring of your cunt. "F-fuck, fuck Suguru!" You cried, reaching one of your hands behind you to tangle your hand in his gorgeous dark hair to keep him pressed agaisnt you. He continued rubbing your clit in little circles as he ate you out like a man starved. His lips were moving on your cunt like he was making out with it, and fuck did it send shivers down your spine.

"Almost- almost came," he moaned between licks, his voice muffled by your cunt as he could barely pull himself away to talk, "Almost filled you up in under a minute, that's what you fucking do to me, oh yes pretty yes- squeeze my tongue-" You squeezed your eyes tight, his words only tightening that ball of pleasure in your stomach more and more. You couldn't believe how into this he was, it was like he was possessed.

Geto started rubbing his fingers back and forth over your clit at an inhumane pace, making you scream out in pleasure. "Uh huh- uh- mmm- fuck- fucking give it to me," He gripped your hip so hard with his other hand you knew for sure it was going to bruise. Your legs shook as you felt the first wave of your orgasm crash over you. Wetness dripped between your legs and into his greedy mouth that was groaning against your cunt, some of it falling on the floor, but you didn't have time to think about how he just made you fucking squirt when he pulled his tongue away from you and slammed his cock back inside.

"Oh, you're so fucking soft inside now," He grit through his teeth, his fingers never relenting against your clit. You could barely breathe between screams as he pounded into you and gave you no time to recover from your orgasm before he was quickly sending you headfirst into another one. "S-suguruuu," you wined brainlessly, your chest hitting the opening of the dryer repeatedly as he manhandled your body back and forth each time he sheathed his cock inside you.

"I know princess I know, gonna come all over me again? Gonna squirt on my cock this time while I fill you up? You want that?" He was rambling, a tell that he was close, but you also knew that from how reckless his thrusts were getting. "Y-yeah, yes Sugu give it to me," your words were slurred but he understood the message well enough.

"Yeah you're gonna take it while you're stuck in there, gonna make sure you don't w-waist a single drop," He groaned, rubbing your clit in messy circles. His moans and groans turned into gasps and higher-pitched sounds as he was brought toward the edge. You could picture his head tipped back with his jawline shown off for you. His eyes would be twitching behind his eyelids as he was unable to open them from how much pleasure he was feeling. He looked absolutely beautiful in your mind's eye.

His hips stuttered and his fingers tightened against your hips at the same time you came around him. Geto whimpered when you squirted all over him just like he wanted you to. "H-ah s-so fucking good to me, s-o so good so good," He moaned over and over before he stilled with a loud whine. His moans cut off with a gasp before you felt the first rope of his seed fill you up and he groaned again with it. His body shook and jolted behind you with the force of his orgasm. He was stuffing you so full and all you could do was grip onto the side of the dryer and take it while he ruined your pussy and filled you to the absolute brim.

You started to come from your high, remnants of your own orgasm dripped from your cunt and slid down your thigs adding to the mess on the floor. Geto curled his body over yours and stuck his head in the dryer with you, his soft hair cascading around your shoulders. Your back and abs ached with the effort it took to not let your head dangle how you wanted, and you gasped as you turned your head to the side to look at him through hooded eyes.

There was a dopey, handsome smile on his face as he looked at you. You could still see your wetness smeared all across his cheeks from how messy he had eaten you. "Hey," he said, rolling his hips inside you to stuff you full. You gasped and your eyes rolled back as he pushed his softening cock against your overstimulated gspot. "Don't roll your eyes like that unless you wanna get fucked again, pretty princess," he teased, leaning forward to press a kiss against the tip of your nose.

You sighed and struggled to catch your breath. It was hot enough inside the dryer without his lungs hogging up all the oxygen too. "Get me out of here and if you say please I'll consider it, you fucking pervert," your words held no malice, and they made Geto laugh before he slid out and reached for your hair that was pinched in the dryer. "I'm a reallyy good boy when it comes to begging to fuck your pussy. Give me a couple minutes and I'll be good to go."

[why-are-humans-like-this]

why does it even matter what i would have to say about something that has nothing to do with me, that my opinion or actions do nothing to change? why does it matter who i support or dont, if i dont bother with either side at all? why is it the end of the world to you that im staying out of it? why am i "supporting the oppressors" by not talking about it.

what in the actual world would anything i do change? why should i tune in when all it does is make me miserable, and change none of whats happening there at all? why should i stay informed when it doesnt help anyone being hurt?