#let me project myself onto him ok

[criiitter]

putting it back up

[chaoticbiguysblog]

I feel like initially most people were on the same page about Tommy Kinnard, they were like ok let's see where it goes and we got Bi Buck!! Like, in April, I was on top of the world bc of Bi Buck, and I was so excited for him and eager to see where it goes, even the ones who didn't want him for Buck from the start were indifferent to him.

But I feel like the divide and the ship wars intensified was when people started using the "healthy male friendship" and "why can't two men just be friends" argument against Buddie, we have hundreds, if not thousands of those in pop culture and homophobes often use this argument against lgbt rep, so to see a group, some if not most of which are queer themselves use the same argument is off putting.

Then, whether you're his fan or a hater, you gotta agree that Tommy's character is a blank slate, he's not been given much to do, besides a few moments, and a significant part of that is him being racist and sexist to two fan favourite characters: Chim and Hen respectively (similarly people disliked Taylor for what she did to Bobby, the redemption and forgiveness before she started dating Buck was implied but it's not enough). Other than that he doesn't have a lot of qualities. And what happens is fans project a lot of things on him. What made me abandon the Tevan ship was people "stealing" Eddie's character traits and projecting it onto Tommy, while labelling him a terrible mentally insane father who uses Buck for his own gain, yada yada yada. And I love Buck and Eddie equally, so to me that was irritating.

Also, since he doesn't have many character traits, his lines, which are intended as sassy can come off as him being a dismissive and condescending dick.

Then for the off screen side of things, we were constantly told Buck is straight, by the actors and the showrunner but everyone was like eh whatever, and then our headcannons were proven right, but suddenly theorising about Eddie and that a lot of queer people including myself identify with him is looked down on if not straight up mocked, and that the canon storylines are the only ones that matter have made the fandom a bit toxic.

Buddies are often accused of blindly hating on Tommy, that he's hated only bc he's not the guy we wanted Buck to kiss, so I feel like I should lay it out as to why a lot of us went from being indifferent or open to the guy to straight up hating him.

[reyesranch]

I feel like atp even if there were plans to make bvddie canon theyre gone now. if tim minear is even half as petty as I am he would see that reaction and go u know what fuck you u actually don't get what you want now cause ur acting so goddamn entitled. like when tarlos fans got mad about the deleted scenes instead of appreciating them being released and his reaction was to say "okay fine then I just won't release deleted scenes anymore" (like I'm sure it was mostly a marketing decision but part of me thinks they intentionally released a scene about bucktommy just to prove a point.) idk man it's just really upsetting as a bi man to see the absolutely vile shit bvddie stans are saying and even tho I love the ship I now never want it to go canon cause they've fuckin ruined it

hey anon, at first let me agree with the fact that i do in fact also love bvddie a lot and i still love reading fics for them, the edits of them are fantastic and the fanart is S tier. it’s a great pairing with a lot of potential there IF the writers decided to ever go there but…

huge answer below

yeah, i agree. i honestly think before tommy was introduced again in 7x03 and the kiss in 7x04 that in my brain, bvddie was the most logical endgame for buck until it wasn’t.

i came into the show shipping bvddie much like a lot of new fans to the show but instead of hopping onto the tommy anti express hate train i found myself falling in love with buck and tommy together. at first i was still on board with bvddie still being endgame but as each episode aired after 7x04 i became faced with the reality of the situation (at least the way i see it) that bvddie might always be fanon and that’s ok because fandom keeps ships alive whether they’re canon or not. some of the biggest ships EVER are non-canon (i mean, cmon spirk? one of the OG MM ships?) so it didn’t really deter me from enjoying bvddie to this day. what HAS deterred me from interacting with bvddie content is toxic bvddies. i don’t like using the lil nicknames, idc if other ppl do, whatever, but i prefer just referring to certain kinds as just toxic plain and simple.

toxic shippers have made it difficult for anyone who multiships to interact with bvddie content. while there are incredibly nice & welcoming bvddie endgamers out there, it doesn’t overshadow the hateful ones in my online experience at least. i’ve blocked so many ppl over this ship discourse, which ive never had to do with any other fandom before the extent i have with 911. everyday i still find new ppl to block, you go under almost any comment section on the 911 insta and its filled with nasty comments abt tommy and only caring abt whether bvddie will be canon in s8. people projecting their hatred of tommy/lou onto the cast/crew of the show when it’s be said and proven time and time again that it’s quite the opposite. now im certain there’s bad apples in the bucktommy side as well, but from what ive seen online so far it is not nearly to the caliber of the bvddie side. ive blocked maybe a handful of bucktommy’s for being hateful towards eddie or being toxic overall, but ive probably blocked over 100+ toxic bvddies. i can only imagine it’d be worse if i was active on 911 twt which i’m not (thank god) but i have ventured into the tags before on there and let me tell you, it’s fucking horrifying how gross ppl are over there. twt is a cesspool for fandom anyways tho, the fucking asshole of fandom, it’s a septic tank really.

now im my own opinion which could be completely untrue of course, but just basing my thoughts on what i’ve seen online and interviews and such, tim seems to be really happy about bucktommy and idk how ppl believe otherwise. tim has expressed he loves LFJ and wanted him back on the show. tim showed up on set for the kiss scene. tim posting an entire youtube vibe abt bucktommy being soulmates that touches on the invisible string theory and explains how they accidentally found buck’s perfect match. tim sharing the deleted tommy scene is also huge but im waiting to see if he releases more (because i remember seen somewhere that he said there’d be more?) and if he does then great but it’s also still pretty telling to me after the whole karaoke fiasco.

oliver has said nothing but praises towards buck’s queer storyline. he quite literally said if you dont like it then watch something else. despite ppl saying he’s never interacted with bucktommy content online, that’s a lie because he has liked fanart of them.

aisha, kenneth & tracie have all expressed how they like tommy/lou and love working with him.

jlh said she loved bvddie before but is excited to see where buck and tommy go and then on an insta live said she doesn’t think bvddie is happening and was bombarded by toxic fans to the point of ending the live early.

ppl think it’s all some ruse to make it seem like bvddie is never happening so when it does happen it’s a “surprise” ……..

the nasty hate comments are doing nothing but exposing these types of ppl for who they are and that honestly to them, 911 is just the bvddie show to them. the people who run these social media accs for 911 are looking at these comments and cringing, they aren’t running to tim and abc being like “we must give these crazies what they want!” they’re mostly likely being ignored or honestly, as you said, being looked at and just reinforcing their decision to most likely make tommy buck’s endgame so as long as his schedule is open for filming.

what gets me the most about the hate these types of shippers spew online is how they aren’t embarrassed because they are so sooo convinced they will be right one day and therefore their insane, nasty behavior online will be justified. oliver stark literally left twt because of fans like this, people act like he was joking around, that he was shooting the shit probably because “he’s british and british people just have that kind of humor” which yes to a certain extent but let me just add these posts to set an example to why if oliver were still on twt he absolutely would not be happy with the way toxic bvddies are acting right now.

oliver (and ryan&other cast too) being positive abt bvddie never meant it was going to be canon of become canon one day. they do not decide these things, whether they believe it should or not. a lot of bvddie shippers come from previous fandoms where queerbaiting was there, where they were made fun of by actors of their ships, by the creators of the show! so i understand the frustration but oliver is not queerbaiting and buck is not a queerbait character when he quite literally is now confirmed bisexual and in a relationship with a man.

he’s just not the “correct” queer to these people. despite headcanons (hell even i hc eddie as queer!!) eddie so far, in canon, is not queer. by the end s7 he is still shown to not be over shannon and ruins his relationship with his son over this. ryan has stated in interviews he sees eddie as heterosexual, possibly pushing this because of the influx of ship discourse, and he’s glad to see a vulnerable and deep friendship that buck and eddie can have as a straight man and a queer man and how important he thinks it is.

every single thing that points to bvddie never going canon is like they’re being shot point blank in the chest. i get it, your ship not becoming canon sucks, but again, that is what fandom is for! shipping has never been about how canon smth is, there is 20k fics out there for bvddie and they aren’t canon. they can turn that into 40k, 100k, 1M if they really wanted to! instead they use their time and energy posting death threats, wishing death upon a gay character, bullying ppl online for enjoying a ship.

meanwhile from what ive seen bucktommys are rolling with goofy ass spy tommy theories created by antis and making jokes for our own fun.

so yes, i agree overall. they truly don’t deserve what they think they do. we didn’t whine and scream for a deleted scene. they did. we got ours without even expecting it and are having fun.

maybe if they behaved better i wouldn’t be so petty abt it. it’s a shame because of how much potential it has, unfortunately it is just not going that way atm. and even if it does one day, it is not because they paraded online with hate, it is because that’s the story tim and the others wanted to write and abc approved it.

🫳🎤

[saguette]

What do you think Johnny's art looked like before he was stripped of his powers? This is something that bugs me a lot, and I'm curious about what you think.

ok i needed to draw a few shitty pictures to demonstrate cuz i wanted to talk about more than just his previous art but his art journey in general IDC if there's some canon tweet that proves something i said wrong or out of timeline these are my headcanons and projections so you either like it or not.. anyways I think his style pre-pre-JTHM (lets say 15-18) depicted many things, He was good at realism and fluctuated just fine between stylized art and big hefty works with a lot of detail. His stylized works looking similar to Jhonens and the whole 2000's artstyle cuz its fitting.

Of course he's like, a late teenager around this time so its GOOD but not perfect. If you pulled up a few of his drawings from this time he would probably be embarrassed by all the disproportionate limbs and goth girls he sketched and thought were badass. He probably has old sketches of friends in his style regardless if they asked to be drawn or not since his art was something he was proud of and people around him made him feel proud of. His old art also feels like it'd have anime elements unintentionally to add to that amateur artist swag. Johnny doesn't like anime copies but stuff he rips inspo from was anime inspired so it rubbed off on his work too. Moving onto PRE-JTHM (18-20) Is when his art started to get more serious and complex. In his happy era he took to drawing lovecraftian horror sometimes but it was always the secondary focus of any drawing.

Moving out and growing up was around the time his mental state started to worsen and he started using art to cope with emotions rather than just use it for fun, drawing complex monsters was a subconscious way to depict underlying mental illness that's out of his hands. He cant depict what he doesn't know he has, he can only scribble things that feel someone close to him because there is no physical appearance to emotions. He never liked his art around this time because it always felt unfinished or wrong or like it just didn't interpret what he wanted right. Overtime his art lost coherent appearance, quality, and meaning which made it feel worthless. It wouldn't be all that bad but it reached a point not even he knew what it was trying to be and it was frustrating. How can your own art not make sense to you? Its weird to let your hands go and do their own and you not recognize what they're trying to say. Which leads to SHORTLY BEFORE JTHM-and later.. Johnnys NEW preferred method for art currently is a little abstract, it became two extremes of the same thing; nothing. his art lost alot of what it used to be so he says he cant draw anymore.

Johnnys lovecraftian horror art slowly engulfed itself over time and always becomes an abstract mess. Its purposely made to be incomprehensible by having too much, regardless if its creation is poetic, an outside view not being able to tell what it is or how much work went into it is on purpose. its metaphorical or whatever.. Johnnys fucked up or something.. Whereas Noodleboy i imagine was made by him drawing a stickfigure one day to see if he can still "draw" and overtime gave him his features like angry eyes and that big hair, creating his own sort of vent sona to replace the sketchy abstract art he used before. Noodleboys chaoticness is too sporadic to rip any meaning off of, he also purposely represents nothing. His existence uses up paper the same way, just without all the extra effort. SORRRYYYY long tangent thats probably super messy i just winged it. but i cant help myself ive thought about this for a while ik i didnt strictly answer the question but i had so much more to say

[faegoddessog]

Day 10: Favourite co-star

Ok loves, I've decided to try something to stretch myself creatively with this challenge. I'm gonna dribble my drabble and see if I can tie each theme into an actual story that I'll write day by day! We'll see how it goes! Wish me luck!

Here is my ongoing masterlist of this project.

My other works are here if you are interested!

Check out the fun challenge here by @slowsweetlove . Feel free to jump in too!

Day 10: Favorite Co-star

WARNINGS: Mature content, 18+ only, Enjoy my teasing!! straddling, nudity, sexual intercourse implied, stroking.

His thumb rubs gently along the inside of your wrist as you approach the door to his suite. You are quickly coming to recognize that petting is one way that he self-soothes.

He pauses, pulling out his key card, but  he turns to you instead of tapping the lock. 

“Before we go in there, I just want to make sure you are ok,” he gestures at you with the flat piece of plastic, “because this is where I need to stop if you don’t want to do this, if you don’t want me.” 

You are a little startled to see his hand shaking with nerves. The earnest look in his blue eyes rims the deep seated wanting. Even the most gorgeous man in the world can think that nobody wants him. You shake your head with a smile. 

His face falls, he swallows and nods. He tries to drop your hand, but you won’t let him. 

“You are just the perfect gentleman, Austin. It’s hot as fuck,” you say stepping close and pushing the hand holding the key card onto the lock. “Now take me inside that room,  cuz I’ve half a mind to do you right here.  I don’t want to leave until you are worn out and I’m too sore to walk.” 

His eyes widen as he realizes what you are saying. The lock beeps. 

He pushes the door, holding it open for you. 

“After you Ma’am,” he licks his lips. 

…

You untwist yourself from the white hotel bed sheets, wondering if your jelly legs could carry you to the bathroom. You smile at the fact that you aren’t sore, not yet, not after one round. But Oh, what a round!  When you come back, Austin has propped himself up on pillows, with a space next to him for you. 

“Wanna watch something while we catch our breath?” he asks, patting the space next to him.

You wonder if he wants to watch porn or something, not that it’d bother you. You nod and climb into bed next to him, snuggling up against his chest. All awkward pretense and nervousness had dissolved the moment you had walked through the door. The moment all his nervousness dissolved into a blur of passion and kisses and clothes disappearing like so much tissue paper on water. 

He drapes his arm around you and clicks the remote. It is a scene of two girls talking intensely, one in a towel. The TV is muted.  Just before he clicks the menu button, the scene shifts to a man with water running over his face. 

“Hey that’s Callum!”  Austin smiles. “We worked together recently” 

“Yeah, I’ve seen him before, what’s he like?”  You had binged watched movies and shows set in New York when you first moved back from Milan. He had been in one that you really enjoyed. 

“Oh,” Austin’s voice drops low as the picture switches to Callum fully naked in an open barn shower, his cock hanging out. 

“Oh,” you breathe out, “isn’t he pretty.”  

“Yeah well… he’s a….  a good guy,” you notice how Austin’s eyes don’t leave the screen. You silently wonder if they did more than just ‘work together’. 

“Is he now,” you stroke Austin’s thigh, noticing that his cock has definitely ‘caught its breath’.

“Mmm, hmm” his lip curls up and he pulls you close. You are pretty sure he didn’t exactly catch your innuendo. 

“Yeah, how good,” you swing your leg over him, straddling his thighs. His dick is sticking out between your legs, hard and inviting. 

“Not as good as you,” he gives you the sexiest smolder, eyes half lidded in want. 

Your hand slides between your thighs and onto his cock, “well that implies a certain kind of comparison, Mr. Butler.” 

His chest puffs in an inhale at your touch. “Maybe,” is his noncommittal answer. 

The idea of having both these men touching you at the same time leaps into your mind. It fires you up. 

“Well, in order to objectively compare and contrast, I think we need more than one set of data points,” you tease. 

“ Actually,” he says, pushing his hips forward into your hand, “I’m supposed to meet up with him tomorrow. He’s here in New York for something. You wanna… come along?” 

Oh snap… maybe he HAD caught your innuendo.

credit to @saradika for the graphic!

Always tag me: @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

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[aychama]

I'm sorry if this is too personal but did you had/have any art trauma caused by art teachers in school? And by trauma I mean some aversion to try learning one thing, because art teacher was just a dick. I have something like that with shading and it still holds after 6 years as a adult and I want to break it, but I cannot force myself to try it again and this holds my proggres as a ,,artist" and that's make me smad. I'm sorry once again if this is too personal or too hard to answer

Yup I did! Tho idk if I can call it "trauma" tbh

Oop I kinda went on a rant sorry lol

I studied ceramics in uni but I did have nude art classes and classes that required detailed art projects.

Although most of my uni time was wasted thanks to covid, I did get harrassed by a few of my classmates and my teacher in my last year.

My classmate had said that my art level wasnt good enough to be in this uni and my teacher yelled at me in the middle of class for like a week or two because I refused his ideas for my projects (he had given me the ok on the design before he changed his mind 180 and started pointing and laughing at me with my classmates while i worked on my ceramic project)

I eventually had to give up resisting because I wanted to pass the class and let him do whatever he wanted. (He legit just put clay on top of my design, smoothed it out and that was it in fact here is the design he gave me the ok to, the middle of my project and the way he stopped me)

After this I basicly didnt do anything more for his class, minimum effort. My days in Uni weren't all bad thank god but I was extremely unmotivated.

After I graduated, I didnt really draw or create much until my love for drawing rekindled with Cult of The Lamb! I love this game and Narilamb too much lmao-

But as for something similar to your experience I would say that I used to play the bass and electro guitar in highschool and we had to perform one day which I chickened out from that resulted in the music teacher getting angry at me. I dont play the guitar anymore :/ But my love for music hasnt died and I am using my love for art diffrently!

I would say that even if certain experiences deviates you from some topics, branches of art or people, dont let it kill your whimsy and ideas. You can always try out diffrent things to find something fun like diffrent styles of drawing, shading or no shading, diffrent mediums like digital or traditional, new or old techniques, weird colors or designs. You can always try out whats popular to see if you like it or not as well. You can also consume a lot of art media, educational or entertainment.

There is so many creative things you can try out, you dont have to be stuck on the past and that one shading idea your teacher tried to teach you ır tried to force onto you. I think you can go back to it after trying out many diffrent things to see if it was the technique or the teacher that ruined it for you.

If it was the technique, there are many MANY diffrent ones that you can enjoy!

If it was the teacher, Im not a therapist so idk what would be the right thing to say but healing takes time, sometimes the things people say never leaves you and sometimes you forget it 5 minutes later. You are a person with the ability to change, learn and grow. The only thing that is in your way is your 'will'. If you are willing to change, even if takes a long time, you will change! But if you dont want to, then no one can force you.

Healing and moving on is hard but not impossible. Dont let an asshole teacher get in the way of your growth ❤️

[mahiiimahiiii]

the less i know the better

Cw/: hurt & comfort, sloppy “I’m sorry for being rude” sex, service top gale, body image issues, shapeshifters and enchanters have some things to discuss, multiple orgasms, some crying, taking care of each other, piv, durges previous encounters, mentions of durges necrophilia, gortash ruins relationships like no one’s business, mentions of squirting and intense orgasms, durge is in they feels.

a/n: i would like to have a big bath, like swimming pool sized. we didn't get a beach or bathhouse episode so i took it upon myself.

what do we want??? Service top gale!!! When do we want it?? At a decent time!!!! I’m pretty sure I pinched my shoulder at the gym and it stingssss. Please play the world’s tiniest violin in my honor. I love bathhouse scenes, so I hope y’all enjoy this one.

(durge is a wood elf storm sorcerer, once again they are brown with loose curls at chin length hair)

(read on a03 or below the cut!)

(if you like what i write- please consider donating to my ko-fi!)

“You could’ve told me that one of your alias’s was lady gortash sooner.” Gale’s voice soured slightly, as you shuffled back into the tiled specialty changing room. You dispelled a few things, taking a few shuddering breaths.

“How was I supposed to know.” Your steps are a bit shorter as you step out of your boots. Hair once silver returning to a charcoal black. The crimson left its stain on your eyes, its color pulsing with every anxious heartbeat.

“You didn’t know what? You’d think something as important as being spoken for would be remembered.” His back turned to you as he worked on un-buttoning his robe, the stiff white collar of his shirt slowly revealed.

you held your head in your hands, rubbing the khol around your eyes. Your previously too perfect features dissipating, revealing the molted and decaying flesh underneath. As you stared at your own face in the mirror, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, you blinked them back. “It’s not…it never was like that.” Your voice warbled more than you thought it would. The reflection that stared back at you in the large vanity mirror looked pitiful.

“Oh.” His tone softened, “Avi…I didn’t mean to push.” He turned around, hesitant to approach. His eyes were round pools of emotion. Your ears twitch at the sound of your own chosen name, one gale insisted you find- he qualified his nagging on saying ‘the dark urge isn’t a great name for such a gorgeous person.’  

“I didn’t know it would hurt this much, I felt… a stinging loss when I saw him. It got worse, when I got called that. Urgh- I don’t like this very much. Feeling like this. Unhappy.” Tears began to roll down your cheeks staining your skin with dark burgundy and black smears. You wiped them on your robe’s sleeves, setting your head in your hands again.

He placed a warm hand on your back, rubbing small circles.

“It’s ok to cry, I do it a lot.” He chuckled softly, kissing the crown of your head. He inhaled your hair’s scent, draping himself over you. A few tears trailed down your cheeks, you buried your head into your arms.

“You must think me weak.” The steaks of enchanted silver that danced in your hair faded into deep brown. Your ears shortened their length not as elegant, bones popped and reshaped, freckles and moles began to fade onto your skin. Scars, and marks and all. Your hair returned, short curly and shaggy, you looked now like a typical wood elf. What you were bred to be. Unremarkable.

“Not at all really…” he curled a strand of hair behind your twitching ear, the pads of his finger ghosting the fragile flesh. “Let me embrace you fully, it’s what you deserve.” His breath brushed against your ears; your skin itched under his touch. “It’s my apology.” His voice was light, “to show… my devotion to you.”

“You needn’t do any of that.” You chided, pushing in the chair, your robes hung off of you slightly. “I don’t wish to become another idolization, I’m but a mere mortal.”

“Nothing but mere, and anything but mortal.” He twirled a curl of yours, fingers braided in your hair. He cups your chin, tilting his head his pupils wide. His lips curled up into an easy smile. “You are mine, despite having… a rather unfortunate birth parent.” He giggled. He led you to the chair that draped his clothes, you curled up, embraced by his cloaks scent. He unlaced his sleeves, and the side of his shirt, finally tossing it at your head. You tucked it behind your head, watching his nimble hands remove his taught pants, the golden buttons glinting in the light. He stepped out of them, his calves flexing as he moved. It left him in his bloomers, which shimmered and crackled with weave. You had seen him in this state of undress multiple times before, every time it felt like the first, a breath of fresh air, an embrace, an urge much sweeter than the ones embedded in your flesh and crawled along your spine. He hummed, unlacing his underwear, again throwing them at your head. Should you be gross? You held it to your nose and inhaled, a rumble rising through your chest. a sound akin to a moan rose from gale’s throat. They smelt of sweat, ozone, and rosemary oil.

Of course, he applied rosemary oil to his crotch. He stretched, bending over as his bones stretched under his skin. “Come, sit up. Let me help you.” You followed his command, he worked diligently to unlace the corset that held your robes together. “I do rather like this look on you. Plum is such a becoming color.” His lips tickled your neck as he placed a knee fearfully close to your slowly heating core. “You look gorgeous, like this.” He kissed a mole on your cheek and another on your forehead; “much better than pretending to be something your not.” He removed the corset with ease,

his fingers hooking under your robe. He wiggled it over your head, a similar wrap shirt that he wore clad your shoulders. He sharply inhaled at the realization that that you didn’t wear your usual camisole underneath. Your breast peaks and nipples erect. “Oh, my love, what you do to me.” He kissed up your chin to the corner of your mouth, his hands slipping to the sides of your shirt to loosen the wrap.

You exhaled, leaning into his touch. Perhaps this was the one person able to make your urges feel at bay, to feel safe. A thought creeped into the back of your mushy skull, what if he wasn’t. The easy smile the lord held, his posture- warm and inviting. The sweetness he held in his eyes, how his hand caressed your shoulders, fell at your hips and drew you in. You could taste him, you could remember his scent, embedded in every primal part of your head. He smelt deeper than gale, whiskey and crude oil, musk and amber. Your skin itched to taste his sweat, and the coppery tang your tongue knew so well.  to trace the bites of the blade along his hips and stomach, the almond scented paint that clung to your hair. The clench of his thighs along your shoulders. You felt disgusting, fantasizing about another man’s touch in the presence of the one you loved.

“Gale- stop for a second.” You noted a flash of concern in his eye, he knelt back down again, tilting his head in a silent question. Tears budded again, as you held your head in your hands. “I am ashamed. I can’t… I’m terrified of my own thoughts. Flashes I see the lord, in the way I see you now. He will not leave, be gentler- and diligent” you paused trying to think how to phrase it. “To possibly… take my mind off things.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, “perhaps we should establish something, and you’re sweet for saying that. I’m glad you felt safe enough to tell me.” He sat back on his haunches. “Perhaps… the shower will help? Ill leave you to finish undressing if you feel uncomfortable.” He squeezed your shoulders, kissing your forehead. “I’ll depart for now then. Come join me when you feel ready.” His movements were fluid, hands drawing a sharp sigh from your lips. He left through the open doorway into the showers. His nails scratched against the doorway; your core ached immaculately. You finished off his work, the dark plum verses bright magenta robes draped against each other on the chair. You felt oddly exposed without your enchanted spells guarding you, waddling into the cedar and teakwood showers you felt more at peace. Gale was nowhere to be seen, but a satisfied groan emanated from the bright hallway ahead. You settled down on the stool testing the water on your hand before handling the wand. The water smooth and warm against your skin. The soaps and skin serums to remove dirt and dead skin smelt herbal. Tonics infused with healing potions, an intriguing way to go about things. You scrubbed your skin until it was red and raw, you felt clean but not clean enough. You sat in the steam of

the water for a moment, debating on continuing forward. You decided too, the warmth of the light and the pools beyond beckoning you forward.

The light was blinding once stepping out the hallway, plants and fauna lined the tiles surrounding the baths, a plush bed with towels and robes on top of it. a table next to it and a patterned robe with tassels. Candles, sherry and crystal goblets, candies and small sandwiches, a platter with fresh fruits and perfumes, and bottles that shone like gems. Gortash really pulled the full 9 yards. Towered over the bath, curiously was a statue of Mystra, her gaze focused on the bath itself, arms outstretched in a surrounding gesture, the sun perfectly framed around her head. It was almost reminiscent of a greenhouse. Gales head peaks between the waves of foam. He floated upwards, paddling to the side of the bath to grip the edge and prop his head in his arms.

“Feeling better?” he beamed, rose petals and violets clung to his hair, they floated on the surface of the foam. You walked towards the steps, dipping your toe in carefully. It was a wonderful temperature.

“a little.” You hum, lowering your weary limbs in the water. “it’s a little unnerving to have a statue of my partner’s ex staring at my naked form. I feel judged.”

“Often statues of Mystra are depicted with her eyes closed…” he swam closer to you, “I am... uncertain why this one is open, perhaps its just another god that looks similar.”

“Let us hope it’s just that.” You settled on a side edge seat, the sun a warm lazy glow on your skin, a warm and floral breeze churned the air. He almost seated himself in your lap, his head tucked into the alcove of your neck, his face a mottled pink from the hot water. His eyes laid shut; his breath warm against your chin. You leaned your head against the tile, allowing him the access to fully intwine with your limbs. You began to become drowsy, tapping his shoulder you escorted him to the bed, comfortably placed within a warm sunbeam.

You both curled up again like lizards on a hot rock. An overwhelming sense of contented sleepiness taking hold of you. Your dreams, or what you could call them flitted with the same images of the man, contented to a stretch within your core- they filled you with bliss. His voice moved against your senses like molasses, crashing wave after wave as his blunt nails dug into his skin. He smelt of crude oil again, wearing a black undershirt underneath his overalls that hung off the dips of his hips, the pale skin contrasted with dark moles on the edges of his thighs. His

nose was buried in your neck, one of his hands covering your mouth and nose the scent of gasoline making you lightheaded.

Keep quiet his voice hissed in your recesses, you bit down on his hand, drooling onto his fingers like a fool. Another snap of his hip’s heaven sent to your core.

He suggested a bath after making a mess of your temple attire, his warm hands scratched your scalp in the cool night of the moon.

His poor bhaalist, his assassin, right hand to the tyrant, his.

You slept on the cool bed curled up on his chest, nose crested his sternum listening to his sighs and mumbling as he slept.

But that was under the moon, you lived in the sun now,

You stretched your legs out a pinging pain setting off in your calf. he muttered, adjusting his body to snuggle closer. His legs intertwined with yours, a throbbing heat coming from his crotch, you could feel the weight on your thigh- a gentle twitch now ang again.

“Gale- “you whisper.

“Mmph.” Was his plain response, rolling over to face you, his eyes closed shut. He had a slow and easy smile on his lips. Rain began to patter on the big glass roof, the vibration of the droplets making small ripples and rivulets from the puddles that gathered. You traced the curve of his chest, your fingers knitted through the hair on his skin.

“Do you love me, gale.”

An eye snapped open. He began to laugh, loud and throaty his cheeks pink. “what a silly question!” His tone changed, one more serious and concerned. “Is something troubling you? A thought deeming you not worthy of my affections?” He raised his brow.

“More memories.” You rub your eyes, “the lord permeates most of them, I feel… disgusting to say the least.”

“it’s not your fault- “he rubs your shoulder, his fingers tracing the soft scars from your flaying. “You had no memory, and frankly that was previous- you don’t mind my discussion of Mystra, so I won’t mind your discussion of… gortash.” He pauses, chewing his inner cheek. “Tell me about him, little love.” You were the one to pause, closing your eyes, searching for the best recollection. “His skin was warm, for once. It made an aching difference in my heart. The only flesh I’ve touched was to consume, or in an act of kill. This was even not to say- that those I’ve killed were simply safe in death. I’ve rutted against and filled with- the same cooled flesh. Malleable,

stiff to the touch. Cold.” You shiver out of instinct. “He liked how I looked without the glamor; he said I was beautiful. He told me I was pretty.” A tear pricks at your eye, you warbled slightly continuing your thought. “no one has told me that before. A part of me felt- that glamor was the only way to command respect. Who would respect the most common creature? Not gifted with power and strength like Sarveok, or fantastic shape changing like Orin. A part of me thinks he’s lying, as is his nature. But Enver- Gortash, I know he was hurting too. It makes it worse, those shared moments we had.”

“You were gifted with plenty more than your family ever will have. Orin isn’t the least bit as beautiful, in my frank opinion. I never liked the silver hair on you, clashes too much with your eyes.” He cups your chin, his thumb stroking absently at the sides of his chin.

“Tell me how I look then, in this form.” You plead softly.

He sighs dreamily before beginning. “What I see is a witty and intelligent person. their skin dotted with freckles like the night sky. A mole on the most kissable spots on their face. Pretty and rosy cheeks, greater in hue than any in a garden. A voice like a ringing bell, or the clink of a crystal goblet filled with wine. Their skin as brown as a deep butterscotch, its taste smoother than any whiskey. Don’t get me started on your scent- “

You giggle, kissing his lips sweetly. “No- do, I’m enjoying it.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, “oh I will, but if you insist…” he kisses your nose, rolling you onto your back, your thighs seated on his low hips. He bent down adding kisses as emphasis with his words. “you’ve always smelt like the weave- fresh and bright like citrus fruits.”

“Must be the oranges I eat for breakfast.”

“Oh, hush you- “he kisses you, his hands wrapping into your long curly locks. His lips trail down your chin to your neck, he inhaled deeply. “One thing I do not like is your adult name you chose, with your 50 years of living and you chose ‘Avrice.’”

“It sounds nice- “you insisted. You were 50, which was around late 20’s early 30’s for a human.

“My sweetest love- do you know what ‘Avrice’ means.” He asked within your neck, to this you shrug. He snorts within your skin, placing small kisses on the alcove of your neck. “It means greed.”

“Explains a lot. I’m certainly greedy for your affections. I’m greedy to not be known as just-another-bhaalspawn. I am more than bountiful in company- I lust after all that life has to offer.”

he laughed again, his voice like the warm roar of the hearth, “indeed you are my love, indeed you are.”

“Can I try… something else, I’m in the mood, I think.” He hummed; his gaze soft.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” You replied sarcastically, shifting your thigh up. The pressure earned a soft groan from him.

“You know how I don’t last as long as you? I have a small idea on that end. Perhaps I start you off sooner, if that makes sense.”

“I’d be up for it- as long as you are gentle.”

He hummed again, this time in acknowledgement. His movements were slow, deliberate. A quick cast of buzzing mage hand, which busied itself on uncorking a bottle of oil.  It scooped some of the liquid out spreading the lubricant out on its fingers. The oil smelt of jasmine and tropical flowers. He helped your legs into a bent position before seating himself on your waist, you felt one of the soft buzzing digits braces against your opening. Gale cupped your cheek bowing over for a kiss, his hands reminded you of the branches of a willow tree. His hips gently rocked against your torso, a slow and satisfied grunt drawing from his lips. He kissed you again, showing a devotion to the way your lips felt on his. Then you felt it, a soft buzz underneath a bulb of spongey tissue, the incorporeal hand must’ve entered quite easily into you for you not to notice. The thumb of the spell pressed against your clit, enveloping around it slightly. A warm heat spread steadily to your core, not enough to be considered stereotypically pleasurable, but quite lovely, nonetheless.

You wound an arm around him, your hand rooting itself in his curls as his thighs and calves spilt off your body onto the sheet below. He smiled between kisses, wanting your other arm around him. His beard scratched at your skin in a nice way. Your hands navigated to his hips, letting out a low gurgle when one of the fingers drew circles inside of you. He chuckles lightly as your hip bones tap his stomach. You felt it fleetingly, a little burst of flame that made your chest tighten. How quick was that? He could tell too, a peck to your nose before the intensity of the spell picked up, the thumb against your clit lightening up for a moment- before engulfing you again.

“That is one then, hm?” he smiled sweetly, combing a hand through your hair. “I shall make my way down- unless you have any objections.”

“No- “you murmur softly, scratching the back of the wizard’s scalp, a contented rumble emanated from his chest. with your legs lowered his sat back on your thighs He palmed your chest, the pads of his fingers grazing over your nipple. He gently pinched the flesh, hardening it between his fingers. The other neglected nipple went into his mouth,

his lips encompassed the flesh of your chest. he sighed, a happy one at that, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

The other hand not in use went to his groin, cupping and palming his balls quite gently. His hands traced the seam of his perinium, pressing up into the sensitive tissue just below the skin. His mouth and hand switched, leaving blooms of bruises and bites in his wake.

He began to mark the skin of the other breast, his tongue swirling around the pebbled nipple, eliciting a soft groan from you.  He began to kiss lower, his lips hovered over every freckle. Every mole was cataloged and memorized by his kiss, every scar traced and groped.

You admired the soft dip of his stomach, full of soup, he would always say. The warm curve of his hip, and the twitch of his ear. How his brow furrows, and the sunspots on his cheeks. The crinkle next to his eyes, and the smile lines and dimples on his cheeks. What a gorgeous man you’ve managed to acquire, you were more thankful every day.

He spread your legs like softened butter, kissing down your calves and thighs. He settled back onto his knees, his joints popping underneath the weight. The fingers curled inside of you, a stretch warming up your walls. He braced the sides of your legs, bowing his head to hover over cunt. He stretched his leg out, laying off his stomach, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your legs locked his head in place, spit dribbling off his tongue. The pressure lightened off your clit, the tip of his tongue tracing anxious circles. His lips covered the sensitive nerve, providing ample suction. The transparent fingers lovingly stroked your insides, cramping down on them ever so slightly. His lips were downy and soft, her eyes pools of deep dark brown. They gazed at you through long brown lashes, they fluttered every so often.

“You are a treat- “he was almost breathless, enraptured with your pleasure. His tongue was warm and thick against your folds. His kisses against your clit were sloppy and wonderful, drool and slips of tongue, his beard scratched your inner thighs deliciously.

You bucked your hips against his nose, to this he squeezed your thighs to stay still. He removed himself, sweeping down quickly to your inner thighs. He quickly bit down; his teeth left indents.

You groaned again, your abs tightening, you felt a quick forced rush like a cramp in your lower abs. Gale chirped in surprise, a wide smile growing on his lips.

“Aha! I have turned on the tap it seems.” His tongue memorized the outlines of your folds, sweeping up the salty ejaculate. Your face burned. Gale’s gaze turned quizzical “this hasn’t happened before?”

“No- not really.”

His eyes widen, and brows raise. “The child of bhaal I know very well- that has done heinous things that in the eyes of any a god would have them hell bound, hasn’t had their tap turned.”

“there’s only so much you can do with a corpse.”

He huffs, a slight frown at the mention. “Not even your noble friend?”

“No, no- I suppose not. I received pleasure- yes, but not that. It feels odd.”

“it’s completely normal, don’t worry your head.” He stroked your thigh, shifting his weight back to his haunches. “Is this position ok?” he slid his knees under your thighs,

The hand dissipated inside of you, another jingled into life to grab the bottle of lubricant. He poured it over his hands and shaft, lubricating it. he smoothed the rest of the hydrating oil onto your knees, giving both a peck.

He lined himself with your entrance, holding your hips before leaning forward into you. His head bowed, lips grazing yours as he let out a slow and shaky moan. He hit hilt, a tight squeeze forcing a rumble from his chest.

“Gods- “he hissed, “look how tight you are now- for me- so sweet like this.” He nestled his head into your neck, pulsing slow shallow strokes into you. “My pretty star, hm? Does this feel good?”

“Quite lovely- thank you” you gasp out, pressing him closer into your skin. Your toes curled uncomfortably, yet your heart sang. The buzzing returned to your clit, the sounds from your cunt were absolutely sinful, wet and erotic- followed by the steady slap of gales thighs against your ass. Again, you felt a taught pressure in your groin, catching gale off guard. Moans fell from his lips, as he canted his hips into you. You could feel his cock head nestling near your cervix. Your eyes clamped shut, your thighs steeled around him. He let out another happy groan, buried now balls deep inside of you. You rocked together in earnest, happy sobs leaving your lips as a sweet numbness spread throughout your body.

His breath was warm against your neck, leaving scattered kisses along the alcove. His thrusts became languid, like ocean waves, another orgasm crashed through you. Gale let out a louder hiss, his teeth scraped against the soft skin of your neck.   “At this rate. I’m about to break- can you cum for me once more?”  he whispered against the cusp of your ear. You nodded feverishly, your hands scratching up his spine, he lifted your legs over shoulders using your thighs to brace and stabilize his weight. His thrusts now were sloppy and excitable, kissing your calves and knees.  You reached for him, holding his

hand. His breaths puffing out, as he rutted into you, your knees folded back as he found a rhythm. He began to sputter out, kissing you sloppily, his mouth hot and tongue needy. He cried out, buried deep within you. You felt a warm rush as he rode out his orgasm, another snap within your core had you shattering like a mirror. Another warm rush cascaded around you, dripping down and around his crotch.

“The tap turns!” he exclaims breathless, seated within your heat. He softens inside you, turning you to the side, and flopping next to you.

You felt fresh in your newly laundered robes, they smelt like roses. It seems the bath had a similar effect on your companions. All left contented, a flush of alcohol on their cheeks, and a pep in their newly shiny step.

You held hands with Gale taking your leaves, the less they knew the better.

[theoldoor]

I sometimes ask myself (WIP FOR THE REF SHEET BELOW)

“Khang!! Why don’t you ship Aventio/Raturine/Golden Ratio??? Theyre literally YOUR kinda trope! You’d die for the same troupe and you cried over multiple other ships that has the same dynamic!!”

And i do ask myself what is it about aventurine and dr ratio that separates them from the other ships of the same trope that i would defend with my life, but after months and months of wondering “why do i feel like theyre awfully platonic” “why cant i see them romantically like the other ships of the same trope” i have come to an conclusion that dr ratio and aventurine hits too close to home w me and that one bro that i love with my life platonically and i am projecting onto the two of them

And also Dr Ratio is ugly

But anyways back to oc x canon shit ft. My genshin oc from 2020 - prof. Solias lehto of engineering. He was made for sumeru before the region was released…. …

Sol is basically borderline ruan mei, he dgaf, he is putting himself in 20 pounds of radiation if it means he makes a new weapon for fun. He wanted to ascend to an archon-hood through mechanical works or some shit, fucked up humanity and is working for the fatui, making them weapons yadayada for the fun of it and they allow him to.

He occasionally visits the quarters to distribute his silly little gadgets for testing (he made sure it was safe before putting to test) and thats when he met childe and they became best buddies because makes weapons x uses and breaks them and theyre both insane so it works i guess. And he learn first aid + pursuing medicine in Sumeru just so that he can tend to childe’s wounds because test subject + he cares for him.

Despite this, he doesnt agree with Dottore work ethics as he has a personal moral code for humans. He would never test dangerous things on others, he would do it on himself. (Learnt it the hard way after he accidentally lobotomized his twin brother)

Same pose… same almost dynamic… two different games… im cooked….

.l…..

Ok back on rambling, here’s some post-talia fenrir.

He was Dr Ratio’s student to gain the elementary foundation before heading off to pursue linguistic and literature. He would earn a doctorate pretty soon after cuz he lowk a freak with languages and now he’s teaching alongside Dr Ratio too. They are not in the IPC together, but the organization that Fenrir is in often collab with the Intelligentsia Guild so basically, he’s the honorary IPC member.

Fenrir sometimes nag the doctor to let him join the Guild, even threatening with the invitation from The Riddlers (he did join them but Dr Ratio doesnt know yet)

The students under Fenrir does noticed a competitive undertone/tension between the two doctors, but not many knew about their past together. Its a funny thing. They would often compare their students achievements for fun too.

the strict teacher x the teacher people thought were a student

God i want them dead too theyre like evil eifenturine

As a token of thanks, Fenrir dedicated almost 89% of his research to the Avgin-Sigonian dialect for Aventurine and chose to study the language as his dissertation. It was a little funny thing as people keep seeing ihm around the strategic investment department trying to butter up aventurine and was like “what the fuck is this guy doing here bro” and bawm in like 4 months or smth a piece of linguistic and archeology research was birthed

I dont know if i want it angsty or not, but for this i’d want aventurine to be happy that his heritage is finally being recognized and. He’d often tease Fenrir by repeating some of the rambling that fenrir always repeats when talking to Aventurine in Avgin-Sigonian, like little mumble

“okay so avgin sigonian has two diphthongs… from the way he’s speaking they’re normally in stressed syllables… hmm…. And they make morphological alternations with the mid vowels /e/ and /o/….”

This is a joke doodle, THIS IS A JOKEEEE

[thepersonperson]

Ok so i kinda binge read all of your blogs in your pinned post and GODDAMN the gojo ones BROKE me it's not like i already didn't have a fair clue about the entire Gojo's loneliness and cruel treatment that's inflicted on him but going onto it in such deatail...oh my god... it's 2am here and i'm literally sobbing

i'm someone who's always been a part of either twitter or IG fandom and most of the times its either people (dudebros especially) are always completely mischaracterising Gojo, making him some kind of god who they can project themselves onto or either its just thrist posts or satosugu, female fans do have an emotional knowledge and understanding to it and it's no surprise how male fans perceive him but now when I think about it it's just so sad and unfair like even in real world people DO NOT see him for who he truly is (they just see him as the 'strongest' or 'nah i'd win' iykwim) and always ignore his vulnerability and emotions aspects of his character that makes him HUMAN oh my god it's making me sick. We don't deserve Gojo Satoru.

He is such a well written character, truly one of the best and Gege knew what he was doing when he made him such a prince charming, undeniably beautiful man to ecer exist and I think that just makes people completely ignore the core of his character.

I'm sorry if it ended up being a yapping session (you don't have to reply at all!! we cool)

I just couldn't help myself, your blogs seriously changed my life. If I loved Gojo before now I love him even more and most importantly I accept him for who he is, all these powerscalling seriously takes away so much of his character but sadly there's nothing we can do about it.

And let's not even start on the whole homosexuality romance stuff, there was no hope to begin with given the rise of dudebros in recent times.

brb gonna go cry more...

I love it when people yap at me don't worry about it.

Ok Anon. The timing of this ask is crazy because in the post you mention there was an interesting convo going on in the replies. I want to include them in my response to you.

Replies on the post mentioned by the anon from @userdemerda and @creatorizuru below the cut.

Thank you for the compliments.

Tag me in whatever fic you create userdemerda. (I actually went from an anime-only to a manga reader because I wanted to better understand Gojo to write a Gojo/Jogo fic. Part of the reason I started my yapfests was to write a Sukuna/Gojo fic. So I totally understand the obsession.)

This all is the power of Umineko. It's difficult piece of media to get through, but it very much encourages accepting people as their whole self rather than just the bits you enjoy. I really wanted to see all the love Gege put into the characters to better understand them.

On STSG...

Though the dudebros are less homophobic than they usually are with JJK, there are still some that can't fully embrace the queerness a part of Gojo's character. It's really important to knowing how he works. So even if you don't like the ship, you still should acknowledge that Geto is someone Gojo deeply loved.

As much as I like those two together, I would have loved to see Gojo move on in a way where he can carry the loss of Geto more like a charm than a curse. Everyone loves a good tragic first love, but second loves that acknowledge loss are quite rare.

On Gojo's end...

Gojo is one of the most traumatized characters in the series. And since JJK has otherwise done a good job showcasing how people cope with trauma, I can't accept the ending's pacing and tone as someone who has recently started recovering from my own. It's a slog, non-linear, and it takes a lot of time.

When I want Gojo to come back it's because I'm so sick and tired of extremely traumatized characters getting killed off because creators don't know how to handle or even want to depict their recovery process. It really mirrors how people irl will just give up and leave you to rot.

Yuji and Megumi were having a pretty good long-term display of the recovery process right up until the end. One of the things about trauma is you can't ever go back to the way things were. You can try, but it's always just kind of there. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. Just a thing you accept. Sadly, JJK dropped the ball on that.

Especially with Sukuna. Acknowledging your trauma is the first step. You can't cast it aside and move onto the next life like that. I cannot vibe with one of the other most traumatized characters needing to die to get his recovery process started. He was in denial way more than Gojo. You can't just flip on a dime like that. I wish I could just flip on a dime like that.

And the last point from userdmerda:

"speaking as a person who lives with post-traumatic stress and has big problems healing from the past all i want is to move on and be mentally healthy and i wish so much that satoru could have had that"

That's why Gojo's death and the world moving on like he never existed feels really bad. I think it's because that's often how traumatized people like him get treated irl. You can see the negative response even in the Japanese fans. It's like your worst fears of no one ever really caring about you because your trauma makes you too difficult to be around being realized.

And I decided to discuss that more in depth in this sort of follow-up post. Hopefully you all get a kick out of it.

[oleander-nin]

1 and 8 for the verbal prompts for platonic yan donnie where he sees the reader as a little sibling, if thats ok?

A/N, not important: Thank you for the message specifying it was for Rise! You're very sweet. Sorry for the absence, a lot has been going on. I'll try to catch up w/ requests soon. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: Kidnapping, yandere themes, slight manipulation(?), injury to hand

Words: 1613

Prompt(s) requested: 1V("Well that wasn't very smart.") & 8V("See. Look at this. We're bonding.")

Summary: Hanging out with Donnie has been great! It's just, you'd really like to go home now.

“I want to go home.” My voice resonates through Donnie’s lab, my feet swinging back and forth as I spin on the chair Donnie parked me in. He doesn’t move, and I assume he didn’t hear me. “Hey Donnie? Can I go home now?”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, fiddling with my thumbs. Donnie barely moves at my words, the slight tensing of his body the only sign he heard me. I let out a loud sigh, leaning back in the chair. I watch Donnie’s back. No reaction. I sigh again, louder this time.

I was getting frustrated with Donnie’s lack of acknowledgement, I couldn’t understand why he was ignoring me. I slip out of the chair, it spinning slightly from the force I used to get off. I walk up to Donnie, my finger hooking onto the fabric wraps on his arm. I tug twice, my face furrowed. “Donnie?”

Donnie glances at me, his face set in a hard stare. His hands were tense, his eyes clouded with thought. It didn’t seem like he was even looking at me properly. I stomp my foot, tugging on the fabric again. Donnie finally sets his current project down, the screwdriver set to the side. I straighten up, proud. I had gotten his attention, all by myself. I didn’t even have to go to Raph this time!

“I want to go home.” I repeat, my hands now clasped around his arm. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet. Maybe my parents would make my favorite food tonight, I hadn’t been home in a while. Mikey’s cooking was great, but nothing came close to what my parents made. I look at Donnie expectantly, waiting for him to get up and show me the way out. Maybe he’d let me ride on his battle shell again. I hoped so, it was fun.

Donnie’s eye twitches slightly and he takes a deep breath. I frown. He wasn’t standing up. He finally turns to look at me, my hands dropping to my side so he could move his chair fully. I grin up at him, waiting for him to get up, for him to take me home. I missed my parents. Donnie and his brothers were cool, but I liked my house. I was ready to go home. Donnie invited me to stay over with him two weeks ago, but I was bored now. It wasn’t as much fun living in the sewers as I thought it’d be. 

Donnie’s eyes flick over me for a moment, his gaze scanning my features. He slumps in his seat a bit, two fingers rubbing where his sharpie on eyebrows were. I frown; he still isn’t getting up. I move to grab his hand again, but he picks his hand up and faces his palm towards me. “Why do you want to leave? I thought you were having fun.”

“I was, but now I want to go home. Please Donnie?” I whine, my voice drawing out the syllables to ‘was’ in a flair of dramatics. I pout, trying to get him to take me. I was tired of sleeping in the spare bedroom the Hamato’s lent me. It was cool I got to decorate it, but I missed my room. It wasn’t the same here.

“No, not right now. We’re bonding.”

I whine, throwing my hands in the air. “But why can’t I leave? We ‘bond’ all the time.”

Donnie sighs, his hand flicking through the screen to his right. I watch his hand move, the writing and diagrams flicking past the screen faster than I could compute. He glances back at me, a chart showing on the screen. His two pointer fingers touching on the screen, then moving apart makes it zoom in. The softshell angles the screen towards me, my body shifting to lean on his chair so I could examine the graph.

“This is your area’s crime rate,” His voice is soft, his hands moving across the screen and pointing at different sections of the graph. It was a line graph, showing the amount of crime in our area over the year. I puff out my cheeks, annoyed. How was this relevant? My parents were home and they were fine. “It’s been spiking recently. My brothers can protect you here, I can protect you here. I’m your brother, I’m not sending you back home to your incompetent caretakers.”

Donnie’s words take a moment to process and I blink up at him. He was still talking, his hands moving around while he explains on and on about how living here with him is better, safer. I look away, my eyes focusing on the floor, then they table. Donnie isn’t my brother; He’s just a close friend. I chew on my cheek. Who did he mean by my ‘caretakers’? My parent’s? A deep frown etches onto my face, my bottom lip sticking out. He insulted my parents in the same breath he claimed to be my brother. 

“You’re not my brother.”

My sudden words make Donnie pause his rant, his eyes shifting back to me. His face twitches again, his eyes narrowing to meet my own. His hands settle down at his armrests, a finger tapping against the chair. “Of course I’m your brother you dumb dumb.”

I stomp my foot, my face growing hot in anger. “No you're not! And I wanna go home!”

Donnie ignores me, his hand waving away my words as if they mean nothing. His face is tilted, looking at me like I’m some dumb kid, like I don’t know any better. “You are home.”

I exhale harshly through my nostrils, turning sharply on my heel and heading for the exit. If Donnie isn’t going to take me home, maybe one of his brothers will. I hear Donnie moving around behind me, the sound of items on his desk being shuffled around makes its way through the lab. I march up to the door, grumbling. It wasn’t fair, Donnie was just being a jerk. My parents were not incompetent. They loved me and the stupid crime graph didn’t mean a thing. Donnie was just being stupid.

The metal doors of the lab swing shut right before I reach them, and I jump back in surprise. I look at the door, my frustration and anger building in my chest. I hear Donnie’s footsteps behind me, his presence taking over the room. I punch the metal doors, pulling my fist back in pain. My knuckles were red and my hand was throbbing, the metal not even dented. I feel myself tear up, my emotions building up and threatening to spill out. A large green hand encases my wrist, bringing it closer to Donnie’s face. I try to pull away from his grip; I’m still mad at him.

“Now that wasn’t very smart.” He chides, his tongue tsking against his teeth. I stomp my foot, trying to wrench my arm out of his grasp. He holds tight, tugging on my wrist to get me to follow him. “Come one, I have some bandages in here we can wrap it with.”

I stumble behind him, dragging my feet as we walk. I pout the entire way to the cabinet, his grip on my hand staying firm the whole time. He wasn’t letting me pull away. Donnie clears a spot on one of his nearby work tables, sticking me on it so he could better access my hand. He turns to grab the bandages and I stick my tongue out at him. A surge of pride settles in my chest at the small rebellion. My face quickly schools itself back to normal when he faces me once turns back, my legs swinging back and forth as if I had done nothing wrong. My tears were long forgotten, but my anger was not.

I flex my hands as he tries to wrap them, closing the hand into fists and opening them again at random to mess him up. I snicker quietly at his frustrated face, my own expression molded into a fake innocence. His hand shifts in how it’s holding my wrist, his thumb now pressed against my palm and making it difficult to close my hands. I slump backwards, my face pinched. Donnie looks down at me, rolling his eyes at my dramatics.

He finishes wrapping my hand and let's go, the mutant’s eyes scanning the bandages carefully. I pull at the wrapping, grumbling at the way it made my skin itch. My foot lightly collides with his knee, his attention turning back to my face. Our gaze meets and I hold his eyes for a moment. “Can I go home now?”

The softshell scowls. “Why would you want to leave? You have everything you could ever want here. I’m taking care of you.”

I shake my head and the turtle groans. He taps his foot on the ground, his hands on his hips. His lower lip juts out ever so slightly as he tries to figure out what to do. “What if… What if I showed you SHELLDON’s blueprint’s? Would that make you less upset?”

I pause for a moment. He would show me SHELLDON’s blueprints? My brain shifts, the exciting offer forcing itself into the forefront of my mind. We could argue about going home later, but he may never offer to show me these again. I slip off the table, grabbing his hand and leading the mutant towards his desk. Donnie smirks as he follows me, happy to have distracted me in the moment. He could deal with a game plan on how to keep me here later. Donnie would always figure it out.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 14

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a little heavier (as is the story going forward, but I'll include potential triggers for each chapter as relevant), so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of sex, masturbation and nudity, depression, suicidal thoughts

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s well past midday by the time I open my eyes and my head is still throbbing. In hindsight, those extra few rounds with the groomsmen after the ball drop were probably a bad idea. At the same time though, that was the only thing that stopped me buckling and messaging Jensen and coming clean about everything and literally begging him to take me back. It’s been days since we last spoke, so I know he’s probably already halfway to moving onto the next project and likely hasn’t given me a second thought since, so I strive to do the same. It’s officially a new year, and I’m determined to stick to my resolutions.

Avoiding my phone, I decide to take along soak in the tub after washing off my smudged makeup from last night. I start running the water and add in an old rose-scented bathbomb Stella gave me for my birthday last year. As I start scrubbing off the makeup the silence gets to me and I give in, going back into my room to retrieve my phone. Any resolve I had managed to build up crumbles when I see the message waiting for me since last night.

Happy New Year, Y/N I hope the bachelorette party went well

Those few words are all it takes to break down the dam I had been building. I can’t believe that after everything I said he still cared enough to message. A little spark of hope burns in my heart at the thought that he was thinking of me when I was thinking of him. Yet he chose to message me, while I got drunk to push him from my mind. The guilt extinguishes the spark of hope. 

I take my phone with me as I shut off the water, strip and slide into the pink bubbles. I let out a contented groan as the hot water instantly relaxes me. But just as I relax, a voice startles me.

“Y/N? Are you ok? Y/N?”

I stare at my phone in disbelief as I see the name on the screen. I brace myself before answering. “Jensen? Hi…”

“Oh thank God. You’re ok. I just hope my second instinct isn’t right then…Not that it’s any of my business…”

“What are you talking about?”

“The sound you made when I answered…you’re either in trouble or having sex…So, which is it?”

“You think I’m having sex and haven’t hung up yet? What do you take me for?”

“You’d be surprised how many people talk through sex, I think it’s some sort of kink. But I really hope you’re not.”

“I’m not having sex…but I am naked…” I say before I can stop myself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that…”

“So, you were masturbating then…”

“It’s none of your business! Why are you so interested? We broke up remember?”

“I didn’t know we dated?”

“You know what I mean…”

“Then why’d you call me?”

“It was an accident…But I’m glad I did. We really do need to talk.”

“Maybe I should let you get dressed first…or finish what you were doing…”

“I wasn’t-Forget it. Why’s it matter anyway? You can’t see me.”

“I guess…I’d love to talk, I just need to get past that last comment…” He goes silent for a moment and then continues. “I also need you to be honest with me. I really like you Y/N. So, I guess I just need to know where you stand.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jens…I’m in a messy place at the moment. I want to let you in, but I’m scared of bringing you down, letting you down and just not being enough…”

“I can take care of myself. I’m more worried about what it would do to you…the photos and shit online is bad enough. If we date we’ll eventually get found out and all that will just get worse for you. The fans are protective of Dean Winchester and by default me…But, those boys that made you feel like you’re not enough, they didn’t deserve you. But I promise if you let me, I’ll treat you like you deserve.” 

I splash my free-hand through the water while I consider his words. “How about for now we just keep talking? We’re in different states anyway, and soon it’ll be different countries…”

“Just friends? Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know, Jens. I’m a mess…And I don’t want to force you into exclusivity when I don’t know…”

“You’re not forcing me, I want this. Honestly, I want more. But most relationships start as friendships, so we can take it slow if that’s better for you. But I need to know if you’re friend-zoning me, cause I…”

“I’m not friend-zoning you indefinitely…Maybe…I don’t know…I just need to get my own life under control first. Stop dreaming and actually…” in an attempt to distract myself from the depressing thoughts, I change the subject. “You know…I do still need a date for my best friend’s wedding…”

“Great! Send me the invite.”

“Jensen…I know you can’t…It’s okay. Plus, that negates our deal of staying out of public and taking things slow. Forget I said anything. It was stupid. That’s the stupid dreaming I’m talking about. I need to start being more realistic…But I struggle when it comes to you…”

“Hey, hey…It’s not stupid to not want to go to an event like that alone. Let me worry about what’s realistic and possible. Just send me the invitation. I may not be able to come, but just trust me. Give me a chance. Please. Also, there’s nothing wrong with dreaming…we’re performers, we play make believe for a living.”

“Okay…I’ll send it to you once I get out of the bath.”

“Bath! Right, that’s why you’re naked…actually that doesn’t help at all. Y/N, Darlin’, I really want to be a gentleman here, but you gotta stop reminding me that you’re naked right now. I'm still just a man.” The lonely, sex-deprived part of me wants nothing more than to hit the video call button and have what I hope would be amazing phone sex with him, but the rational part of my brain stops me. He sighs and then cuts back in, “I’d love to hear more about your dreams and how you’re gonna make them come true.”

“It doesn’t matter…They’re just pipe dreams. It’s time to grow up. Get a responsible nine to five and actually get ahead of bills and become someone reliable. Someone that’s worth…”

“Worth what, darlin’? Worth not cheating on? Worth being around? You don’t need a boring nine to five that you hate to be worth anything. I promise you real passion is way more sexy.”

“If that were true…” I sigh, “I’m sorry. As I said, I’m just not in a good place right now. I’m sorry for bringing down the mood. Forget I said anything. I should go.”

“Y/N, darlin’. Just wait a second.”

“What Jens?”

“Talk to me. This is what I mean, I want to be someone you can talk to about this stuff. I want to listen and support you. I can do that as a friend or a potential partner…if you’ll let me.”

“Jensen…I don’t know…You don’t need to listen to my depressing thoughts. You have such a perfect life, I don’t wanna bring you down. I have heavy baggage, you don’t want it!”

“That’s for me to decide! I can help carry your baggage or help you unload it for good. Put it on me, I can take it! Let me be your packhorse.”

“No…You deserve better…”

“Tell me, Y/N, what exactly do I deserve? Tell me more about my perfect life! Since you seem to know so much about my life, tell me! What’s so good about it? What do I deserve that you’re not?”

I shake my head. Tears slip down my cheeks mixing with the luke-warm water as I shrink at the sound of him raising his voice at me. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I called you, I’m sorry I ruined your day. I’m…I’m just sorry…” I hang up and drop my phone on the mat beside the tub. I pull my head underwater, staying there until my lungs burn for air and then I stay there a little longer. I think about how no one would know or even care if I stayed under right now. Glimpses of my exes’ faces spring to mind and it seems plausible. I let out any remaining air in my lungs. Nick’s words echo back to me. I stay under. My chest burns. And then I see my parents' faces from the day I left home–the second time–and Stella in her wedding dress that she hasn’t had a chance to show off yet, and finally Jensen’s green eyes and bright smile. I break the surface, gasping desperately to fill my lungs with air. I sob uncontrollably at how guilty and pathetic I feel.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573

[phantom1111]

Not from around here

Homelander x female reader

Prologue ~

A loud beep startles me awake, groaning i turn to shut off my phone to stop the alarm, sitting up groggily in an attempt to wake myself up and yawning. I open up my phone and am greeted by 20+ missed messages and a few missed calls from my groupchat. Blinking in annoyance and still half-asleep i open the app up and lay back down.

Francis 🤑: Heyoo!!! We still hanging out tomorrow gang 😎😎

J-boss ⚡️: get this shit off my screen bro

Jack 💥: i mean if yall are down i got nothing planned this weekend

J-boss ⚡️: will there be bitches?

Izan 🧐: perchance…

Ian 🔥: GUYS WE SHOULD GO TRY THE NEW FLAVOR AT LITTLE CEASARS

Sandra 💋: shut up fatass… and im only going if y/n and carla are going 💁🏻‍♀️.

Carla 🧚🏻‍♂️: francis already asked our parents and they told him he can only go if i come with⚡️⚡️⚡️

Francis 🤑: i hate u

Jack 💥: i wouldnt take that man 😭

Izan 🧐: Y/N ANSWERRRR

Izan 🧐: wait all of you are going right?

Everyone: Yes!!

*10am*

You: hi guys im going

J-boss ⚡️: nonchalant ahh

You: im gonna stop you right there pal

I roll my eyes and throw my blanket off me, planting my feet onto the carpet floor beneath me. I walk over to my closet and rub the sleep out of my eyes, the only light serving me is the one coming from the sun seeping through my window.

After picking out a cute outfit i go and wash up, throwing on my clothes and looking myself in the mirror. I had chosen a black, lowcut longsleeve, tight shirt with a denim backless zip up high rise jumpsuit that flared at the ends i decide to finish off the outfit with a pair of black boots. I do a little twirl, satisfied with my smooth eyeliner and good outfit choice. Opening my phone back up to quickly text them that im ready and for someone to come pick me up.

I hear a knock at my front door and grab my black star shaped purse. “Bye mom!! Ill see you later love you!!” I call out and she reminds me to text her when im on my way back. I skip out the door and lock it behind me. “Sooo the mall right? Is everyone there yet” jack shrugs “i dunno everyone just said to hurry, also j-boss is in the backseat” i step into the passenger seat of his car and we head to the mall.

About 20 minutes later we pull up to the parking lot and walk into the macys, quickly spotting francis and carla talking to each other until they notice us “HEYYY Y/N” i wince at carla’s enthusiasm “heyy we should probably quiet down being out in public and all” she giggles and latches onto my arm. “Hey dont forget IM in charge of the card” francis snatches a card from carlas hand and they start bickering. I roll my eyes and sit down at a bench with jason and jack “hey when did Ian, Izan, and Sandra say when they were coming?”

As if on cue they walk into the macys, all arguing about who gets to ride shotgun next time. “Hi guys!! Looks like the whole gang is here right.. heh!” I playfully jab jack on the side waiting for everyone to laugh “good one right…!” Sandra cringes and only Izan laughs “if izan is the only one laughing thats a sign you should stop trying to be funny” I look over at jason with a glare.

*3 hours later*

“Ok i think thats enough shopping..” i look over at sandra and carla, all of us carrying multiple bags on each arm. “I should have let francis keep the card.. dads gonna KILL me” carla groans and we continue walking through the mall, or more like trudging along with all our bags. Until we finally catch a glimpse of all the boys in a vr video game store screaming “what the fuck are they doing??”

Sandra walks in and we see them all connected to the same game, their point of view projected on a giant screen. “I think its like a zombie apocalypse thing ive played this before” i sneak up behind ian and pinch his neck, he squeals and throws the headset off, turning to me with his fists raised ready to fight. I raise my hands in mock surrender and burst out laughing with sandra and carla, the boys take off their headsets to look at ian, bewildered, sending us into a further fit of laughter.

The store owner walks up to us and tells us to leave “whoops…” i let out a last laugh and wipe a tear from my eye. “Bro ian youre really getting butched around by y/n” they laugh at him and we walk out of the mall after buying ourselves a drink at one of the stands. I take a sip of my horchata and giggle. “Hey wait i gotta tie my laces!!” We turn to Francis who is far behind us and as i begin to walk towards him i feel the ground below me slip from my feet. I scream and feel myself plummet, my skin feeling as though its warping around me until i slam against a grassy surface.

I look up and groan, hearing the rest of my friends make noises of pain and confusion behind me. “What the hell..???” I sit up and look around, there seems to be a television crew but they look startled and start making their way towards us, along with a group of random bystanders. I try to stand up and i look around me, noticing we are in a completely different city “yo where the fuck are we??” I hear jason exclaim behind me. Ian points at the giant building in front of us “is that the fucking vought tower” i gasp and my jaw drops, the crowd around us getting larger and i notice some of them wearing vought merch “theres no way this is real right?” I turn to look at them trying to make sense of the situation.

A loud thud surprises me and the crowd breaks apart, now taking photos and turning their attention partly to the person. The figure gets closer and I realize its THE homelander.

————————————————————————

HII thank you to anyone who read this, I’ve never posted any kind of writing and i kind of just came up with this on a whim. I know it looks like WATTPAD writing 🫣 but please let me cook, by the time anyone is reading this i would have probably have published more parts so if you like it lucky you, if you don’t then im sorry for releasing more of this vermin onto earth 😭🙏🏾 (tips/ideas welcomed)

[queer-reader-07]

coffee theory and the disparaging of aziraphale’s character

ok y’all buckle up, we’re finally talking about why coffee theory not only disparages aziraphale’s character but would cheapen the story.

this is a meta i’ve been trying to write for ages now because i know i have Thoughts but trying to communicate them in a coherent and not passive aggressive way is… difficult to say the least.

i have a few main points i’m gonna touch on in this post:

1) why coffee theory disparages aziraphale’s character and removes him of his agency

2) why it would cheapen the story

3) how it underestimates neil’s talent as a writer

4) why the implications of it irk me

ok. let’s get into this.

firstly, a run down of coffee theory for anyone who’s managed to miss it. coffee theory basically states that the metatron drugged/manipulated the coffee he gave aziraphale such that the coffee was what led to aziraphale making the decision to go to heaven. (i.e. he wasn’t himself, he was under the influence and that’s why he did what he did)

why coffee theory disparages aziraphale’s character and removes him of his agency

look. i understand that aziraphale’s decision to go to heaven and take up the position of supreme archangel hurt. i understand that a lot of y’all were angry at him, and many of y’all still are angry with his decision. that is so totally valid and i’m not saying you’re wrong for being upset.

but what i do have to say is this: you can be angry at him while simultaneously acknowledging that his decision makes sense in the context of his character. those two truths can coexist without contradiction.

i think that a lot of people (myself included) have this unconscious tendency to view characters through our own warped perceptions of them rather than their actual character. like we all have our own headcanons about the characters and media we enjoy, but sometimes they get away from us and we start projecting complete headcanon onto real actual canon plot.

so let’s talk canon for a minute. the show has shown us time and time again that aziraphale fundamentally believes Heaven is good. he knows the angels are mean or bad sometimes but he thinks that capital H Heaven is good. that God’s plan is good. he believes that being an angel makes you good.

“i know the angel you were.” “you’re a demon you lied.” “you’re the bad guys.” “we’re hereditary enemies” “there is no our side”. aziraphale believes that being an angel and being on the side of Heaven is what makes you good. yes he knows crowley is good but aziraphale thinks it’s because of his past status as an angel. that it’s in spite of his demonic nature.

aziraphale believes that with the help of someone good (properly good, not pretend-y good) Heaven can be perfect and good and share that goodness with humanity. and he’s been given the opportunity to do that, alongside crowley no less!

aziraphale doesn’t fully understand how corrupt Heaven truly is. and nobody can get that across to him. not even crowley. miscommunication is an issue between them, yes. but it’s not the only issue. aziraphale fundamentally believes in Heaven, and crowley does not.

so of course aziraphale chose going to Heaven and being in charge because now he can truly enact change. his decision makes so. much. sense.

and coffee theory? coffee theory would strip aziraphale of all his depth and complexity as a character. it would say “yeah he has this long history of being hurt by this institution but his faith in it is so strong that he was willing to leave the one being he loved most in the universe behind if it meant fixing the institution and creating a safe future for him and his lover. but actually he just got drugged lol.” like. how utterly disappointing would that be? it strips him of his agency, it strips him of his complexity, it makes him boring. and boring is one of the worst things a character can be.

aziraphale is allowed to be a complex character. he’s allowed to make decisions you don’t like. in fact i think he should. that’s what happens in stories. especially in good ones. characters make decisions you don’t like all the time but what matters is if the decision makes sense. and aziraphale’s decision makes all the sense. no matter how upset it made you, it checks out.

why it would cheapen the story

look me in the eyes when i say this: most of y’all would probably hate coffee theory in practice because it is such a cop out plot twist.

coffee theory fundamentally disallows complexity to aziraphale’s decision to leave earth. it makes it a “oh no he was drugged!” situation instead of a “he has a lot of shit to work through and he’s hurting and the being he loves is hurting and the world is gonna end and he needs to work on himself before he can save the world properly.” situation.

coffee theory is bred out of the knee jerk instinct to say aziraphale was completely wrong and crowley was right and “i need to explain away aziraphale’s decision because he would never hurt crowley!!!”

y’all. i love aziraphale, do not get me wrong. but have we been watching the same show? aziraphale has hurt crowley, multiple times. he’s said many hurtful things. and it all comes back to the same reason: he believes Heaven and angels are good, and demons and Hell are bad.

it’s all connected. and i want to see the show acknowledge all of that. push it to the surface and let them confront it all. not brush away the hurt with some cheap “he was drugged!” plot twist. it’s boring and disappointing.

how it underestimates neil’s talent as a writer

neil is a good writer. i’m not gonna entertain arguments about this, if you like good omens you like neil’s writing. (and i highly suggest you read his other novels). and if there’s one thing i’ve found in my time reading neil’s books it’s that everything is intentional.

how much time does this fandom spend dissecting every single frame of the show because we know nothing is accidental? that is not a good omens specific thing, it’s in all of neil’s works (at least the ones i’ve read). neil is incredibly intentional in what he does, and in my experience he doesn’t rely on cheap plot twists.

he can plot twist the ever living daylights out of you but it will never be a cheap cop out like “he was drugged!” and acting like coffee theory is actually plausible is frankly an underestimation of what neil is capable of as a writer.

why the implications of it irk me

can we all just agree that the fandom likes crowley more? and that whenever aziraphale does anything slightly complex it’s often times either met with “oh nonono here’s this reason that doesn’t allow him any complexity” or “i hate him!!!! (also doesn’t allow complexity)”

you can adore crowley. i adore him too, i relate to him very deeply. but i love aziraphale too and i’m kind of tired of how frequent the aziraphale slander is.

and coffee theory, if i’m being honest, feels very much like y’all just can’t handle aziraphle being anything more than “silly little gay angel running the bookshop”. it feels like people just can’t handle the fact that he has his own motivations and feelings and that he truly thinks he’s doing the right thing.

and it’s to the point that you need to convince yourself he was DRUGGED so that you can accept his decisions?? y’all. did we watch the same show?

[corviiids]

(inspired by your earlier post about if L accused Sayu of being Kira) How do you think an au where Sayu got the death note would play out?

amazing question. i wrote so much more than i thought i was going to im so sorry. tl;dr i don't think the ultimate plot would change much but the beginning would sure be interesting.

i think if sayu found the death note, she would tell light before anyone else. he's clearly her most trusted confidant. light would tell her not to worry because it's clearly some chain letter shit but because she's clearly frightened of it he'd offer to hold it for her and get rid of it so she doesn't have to think about it.

now whether ownership officially passes to light at this point might depend on the specific wording they use. if light says 'hold onto it for you' or something to that effect it would likely just be sublet to light (wording from rule 13) - for our purposes im inclined to go with this version of events but i note the rules are really ambiguous on what the specific requirements and conditions are regarding ownership.

(i keep wanting to go through and do a full review of all the manga rules from like. almost like a statutory interpretation kind of lens but that's a stupid project i need to convince myself out of lmfao jesus)

hey this got really long and complicated. i thought it was going to be simple but now im going through branching possibilities literally for the sole purpose of analysing the rules so let's put the rest under the cut. click for me citing specific death note rules in the middle of my work day i guess GOD. you can also scroll to the bottom if you want to skip me talking about death note rules and just see my projected course of events

the issue of ownership actually doesn't matter that much at this point for reasons we will see but might change things a little bit down the road (see below re: ryuk and discussion of rule 47). let's go with the sublet thing for now and assume sayu is still the owner of the notebook but light is holding it.

light keeps the book, sayu tries not to think about it and fails. light can't resist testing it without sayu's knowledge. light meets ryuk. i note rule 13 states the death god will stay with the owner of the note. since light and sayu are in the same household (ie geographic distance is not an issue) and ryuk would find light more interesting, it's a coin flip which person he'd show up to (probably depends on the degree to which shinigami are bound by their rules which i don't have access to and can't review lol). let's assume for now that ryuk meets light first just for ease, but i will come back to this later because i actually prefer him showing up to sayu first while light is holding the notebook.

in the version where light meets ryuk first, then depending how forthcoming ryuk is with information, either sayu sees ryuk before light realises that's a risk or light realises sayu will see ryuk before she actually does. im leaning towards the latter because in canon light finds out in this order:

people who don't have the note can't see ryuk (when his mother comes into the room during their first meeting)

people who have touched the note CAN see ryuk (when sayu comes into the room asking for help with homework some days later)

so in this au, between events 1 and 2, light would realise that since sayu has touched and owns the note, she'll be able to see ryuk. i think light at this point would ask ryuk if there's any way to undo that effect at which point ryuk should inform light that forfeiting the note will allow sayu to stop seeing ryuk.

ok, now let's backtrack to before and say instead of light, ryuk shows up to sayu first. ryuk appears, sayu screams, ryuk informs sayu that light has used the note. light comes running because sayu screamed. light again in this timeline immediately demands to know how to get sayu out of this situation, partially because she's freaking out and partially because he's already pondering the possibilities and absolutely needs sayu not to know about any of this. she is already hysterical because hey, did this monster just say that her big brother killed someone?

ok here's where i got into a rabbithole digging through the rules for a loophole because i found a problem. (it's ok, i found one.)

we know a death note can pass from person to person because it happens in canon multiple times. we also know that losing the death note will erase your memory of the note (rule 22). where it gets interesting is that rule 47 provides that you will only lose your memories of the death note if you actually used it:

[...] You will not lose memory of the Death Note, for example, if you merely owned it and had not written anyone's name. [...]

you won't be able to see the shinigami anymore, but you'll still remember the notebook. not good enough for light - he needs sayu to forget completely or she'll be traumatised and he'll be compromised, especially because now she knows he used the notebook which makes her a liability. light now has two thoughts

he could ask sayu to kill one person using the notebook and then forfeit it so she doesn't remember the crime and can be free of the notebook forever, or

see if the shinigami can offer any other options.

1 is an interesting place for light's mind to go, but he goes with option 2 first because sayu looks like she's going to have a panic attack. luckily, there is another option, and we know ryuk is aware of it because of the events of the a-Kira story - this is lucky because even if a rule existed there's no guarantee that the shinigami know about it as ryuk demonstrates multiple times. (they also don't need to tell their human any of the rules at all - rule 4.) lmao. anyway im talking about rule 67:

Regarding the memories mentioned in Rule XLVII, the owner can have their memories of the Death Note erased if they so desire.

(well, it's more like 67.1, because there are three completely unrelated sub-rules in this rule. kind of justified because we know rule 67 was a last-minute amendment but seriously who fucking drafted these rules in the shinigami world i'd like a word)

under rule 67, sayu could forfeit the death note and willingly have her memories erased without needing to kill anyone. light asks sayu to do this and promises he won't kill anyone else with the book and that he'll burn it as soon as she's forfeited her memories.

sayu trusts light so much that she does not ask why he doesn't just burn it now. she forfeits the book and forgets the death note ever existed.

i think from that point everything else goes the same way it does in canon.

tl;dr, again - my projected course of events, preferencing the branches i personally find most likely:

sayu finds the death note

sayu tells light about it

sayu sublets the death note to light, remaining the note's official owner

light tests the death note without sayu's knowledge

ryuk shows up to sayu and informs her that light has used the death note

light joins the conversation and demands to know whether sayu can be rid of the notebook

ryuk informs them sayu can forfeit the notebook and will no longer see ryuk, then states anyone who's killed with the notebook would lose all memory of it once they had done so

light correctly infers that by default, your memory will remain unless you have killed with the notebook.

light realises he needs sayu to lose ALL her memories of the notebook, both for her mental health and because she knows he's killed someone with the notebook and is a liability

light briefly considers asking sayu to use the notebook once before forfeiting it

light dismisses this as an option

light asks ryuk if there are any other options

ryuk reluctantly informs light that yes he can erase sayu's memories of the notebook if she willingly chooses it

light convinces sayu to give up her memories and the notebook and promises he will destroy it

sayu trusts light and doesn't push him to destroy the book in front of her

sayu gives up the notebook and her memories

light becomes owner of the death note

story proceeds per canon

[faegoddessog]

Day 11: picture that imploded in the fandom

Ok loves, I've decided to try something to stretch myself creatively with this challenge. I'm gonna dribble my drabble and see if I can tie each theme into an actual story that I'll write day by day! We'll see how it goes! Wish me luck!

Here is my ongoing masterlist of this project.

My other works are here if you are interested!

Check out the fun challenge here by @slowsweetlove . Feel free to jump in too!

WARNINGS: Explicitly Mature Content, 18+ only, cock stroking, fellatio, PiV (did ya'll think I'd leave you hanging... no sir-ee)

Day 11: picture that imploded in the fandom.

You let a long line of spit drop onto the cock in your hand. You think this is like lubing up my own dick, if I had one. It heightens the eroticism of the moment. 

“Yes, yes I would love to join you…both,” you say out loud, with just a hint of suggestion. 

He thrusts gently into your hand.

“Mmmm, I’ll text him,” Austin’s voice rumbles in his chest, “later.”  His fingertips dig into your naked hips.  His eyes molten pools of deep blue as he stares at you, his mouth hanging open just a bit. His hair is sticking out in all ways from having your hands buried in it earlier.

“This didn't take long,” you indicate his hard cock by stroking it up and down. 

“I blame you,” he says quickly, reaching up to grab you by the back of the neck. He pulls you down onto his waiting mouth. The TV completely forgotten by both of you. Your lips clash together tongues seeking one another out in a kiss full of desire. 

You pull away, sucking his full bottom lip and playing at it with your tongue. 

“Can I?” your eyes flick to his cock in your hand. 

He nods, only guessing at what you mean, but up for anything. 

You slide back, holding him tall. Wetting your lips,  you lower to his cock. Up close, it looks bigger than it had felt inside you. The veins aren’t prominent, and the little pile of blonde curls at the base is well groomed, adding an element of cuteness to his huge phallus. You rub your lips against his red-tinged pink tip, letting spit dribble in little rivulets down his shaft. 

Austin has one hand tucked up behind his head, the other rubbing along his own thigh. Perhaps his petting was more than mere self-soothing. 

You push him against your pursed lips, then let his shaft win, keeping your mouth tight around him.

He groans, hips shaking in want. 

Your tongue caresses his glands inside your mouth. He tastes like cum and a little like latex.

Pulling away, you suck, but just before he breaks the seal of your mouth you slide back down, flicking his underside with your tongue. Up and down, up and down. Soon your hand joins in the motion, tending to the entirety of his cock. 

Try as he might to not, his ass bunches up underneath him, making him push into your throat. 

“Mmmhmmmm” you moan around him you pull back and push him in deep again. He thrusts, again and again. He is made a god in your mouth.  His panting breaths seizing between his teeth. 

“Oh fuck,” he blurts out. 

You pull away just before he cums, wiping your bottom lip with your forefinger. 

“God that’s good,” he pants. 

The corner of your top lip lifts and you nod your head in acknowledgement of his praise. Your eyes flick to the scattered stack of condoms on the bedside table. He reaches, missing them at first. He can’t bring himself to look away from your talented mouth. Finally his fingers land on one and he thrusts it into your waiting hand. 

You make quick work of rolling it on him. You want him inside you and now.  You lift up, leaning forward. Like moths to the flame, his hands are on your tits, playing at the nipples, kneading gently with his fingers. 

You impale yourself on him, guiding him with a hand.  He sinks in deep, splitting you, stretching you.  Your hips roll in his lap. You begin rocking back and forth, feeling him hit deep inside. 

His phone dings. He utterly ignores it, to the point that you wonder if it was in your mind. 

“I’m going to fuck you until I cum Austin,” you moan, trying to bring yourself back to the moment. 

“Use me, ride me, I’m yours,” he surrenders. 

You do. Rocking back and forth, rubbing your mons on his tight abs. Jesus fucking Christ, he is unbelievably hot under you. His eyebrows bent towards each other in self control and need and want. Just the look of him makes you fuck him faster, your orgasm winding up fast. 

Then, pushed over the brink, you are thrashing on his cock. Spine tingling moans rock your body and your fingertips dig into his chest. 

He roars, letting go of any semblance of control as your pussy grips at him. He fucks up into you so hard. You would have bounced off his lap if his big hands hadn’t been gripping your hips. Holy fuck it’s overstimulating. 

“Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” you scream. 

“Yes yes yes yes YESSS!” he screams, thrusting hard. Pushing forward, pulling you down. Little jerks of his hips, pumping out his cum inside you.  There is a part of you that wishes there was no condom, that you could feel his cum dripping out. 

You collapse on top of him, your chests heaving together. 

He pets your hair away from your face, kissing your forehead. 

It’s not long before he has you bent over the end of the bed, using your hands behind your back as leverage to fuck into you once again. 

And a little while after that that he laid you on your back and made you flood his face, his fucking gorgeous face, with your juices.

...........

Sometime the next  morning, he is woken by his phone buzzing under his hand.  How it got onto the bed he had no idea. Must have happened in the middle somewhere, when he had grabbed it and silenced it. Fuck, why did people have to bother him when he was so deliciously busy!

He opens the message, one of many, from his publicist. 

Anything we need to say about this?  

He clicks the link, it is a fan sighting of you and him last night under the arch, complete with pictures. He had his arms around you, staring into your eyes, his mouth inches from yours in a decidedly ‘not just friends’ kind of way. The angle was a little high, like it had been taken from the bus. The fucking bus with his own promo on it. There were several comments below it. At a glance they ranged from “Good on him!” to “That motherfucker!” He didn’t pay any sort of heed to the comments, it wasn’t good for his soul.  He crept out of bed, snagging his robe. He stumbles through the living room, certain muscles  protesting from their work last night, and made his way out onto the balcony.  He rings his publicist, he would always rather talk than text.

“Hey Yeah, I saw. Can you see her face in any of them? No, I’m not doing that to her,” his voice is insistent, if quiet. 

“I’m allowed to have a private life. And who I kiss isn't their concern. Well then tell them it’s nothing, that she’s no one.”

He hangs up, sighing.

”Even if that’s not remotely true,” he looks at your sleeping form through the balcony windows, “What have I gotten myself into.” 

He shakes his head with a smile, then  dials up Callum. He figures might as well while he’s on a roll.

credit to @saradika for the graphic!

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[mcsm-confessions]

Lukas’ character is so overlooked because hes ‘hot’ and its genuinely terrible because i love analyzing his character SO much so let me dump some headcanons (?) or just rambles

I really, REALLY wish Lukas was more meaner throughout the witherstorm arc if you were mean to him as Jesse. His charming and kind demeanor is a huge part of his character, and I admire him for that, but if you chose the worst dialogue options/story decisions (leaving him in the basement, telling him to stay away from Reuben, letting him leave the shelter, etc.) he just,,, takes it. The worst he does is call Jesse out for their actions and leave the cave, then apologizes to them one episode later. I was upset that Lukas felt the need to apologize to Jesse even though they were the one that excluded him in everything and treated him horribly and as if he weren’t apart of the team, and realized that Lukas’ easy forgiveness (?) might’ve derived from being around the ocelots. (uh oh this is where the rambling starts) Like,, this dude was around the worst people ever, I could imagine them doing the most god awful things and Lukas would have to apologize on their behalf. They literally became terrorists in episode to jealousy. I personally headcanon Lukas had been friends with the ocelot many years during the post witherstorm arc, but they, excluding Lukas, changed for the worse. Lukas believed that they could still be better, so he waited, and just became a bystander when it came to the ocelots bullying Jesse’s gang. He waited and waited until the day the ocelots ditched him for being apart of Jesse’s gang, (even though he quite literally risked his own safety to save them from the witherstorm’s grasp) and then just rebranded to the Blazerods. Despite having a good heart, being around terrible people influenced him a lot. And not in a ‘changing Lukas to be a bully’ way, it’s more-so a making him scared to show even an ounce of uncomfortableness or fear around his own friends. Whenever he’d try reasoning the ocelots, they, especially Aiden, would discard his feelings immediately. They’d probably make him feel sorry for even showing the slightest bit of emotion, thus leading him to apologize to Jesse even though he got heart. I’m not saying Lukas can’t stand up for himself, because he very much has on several occasions. But I am saying that he’s an empathetic guy and sensitive person at heart, also a HUGE people pleaser (which is confirmed, if I remember correctly). um ok im done projecting myself on Lukas. moving on!

I wanna talk about the injuries he gained throughout the portal arc. You cannot convince me he went out of the portal arc with absolutely no scars at all, especially with the things he had to bear through. Example, being punched by Aiden, tackled by a guard (if the player chose to follow Milo), and pushed off sky city. It was visible he was suffering from the pain of Aiden punching him then quick to push him off the island, because he asks Jesse if he can stay down in the surface because he doesn’t have enough strength to follow Jesse back up. This all happened in episode 7 by the way. And in episode 6, the worst thing I can remember is the white pumpkin shoving the mask on his head. With how quick Jesse was to arriving in the scene where Lukas got framed, Cassie probably hurt him in the process especially since his body was kinda wobbly (which derives from aches). Even though he looks okay after that occurrence, I can’t help but see him still suffering from the aches when he was encased in the closet. Moving onto episode 7, where I believe the worst injury happens. If the player doesn’t choose to save Lukas in Harper’s lab, Lukas has to endure having a mind-controlling chip literally implemented into his brain until the final battle. Also, he got electrocuted in the pama fight and had his hand punch through glass forcefully (he’s wearing a glove, yes, but his knuckles are exposed) and then went unconscious for a little while. And again, that chip was literally implemented into his BRAIN. That would leave some sort of scar or bleeding, or leave a long-lasting side effect even way past the end of season 1 and maybe even season 2. I headcanon he gets frequent aches in his head for absolutely no reason, specifically the back of his head where he got chipped, then pictures the traumatic memories of being mind-controlled to try kill Jesse in his head. Poor guy deserved a good break. Onto episode 8, I can only imagine him suffering from the pain of being crushed (Mevia mentioned that although the competitors do not actually die, they still have to endure the pain later on.) in the games. Also still feeling some side effects from the previous episodes. Mind you, the portal gang hopped through multiple portals without any breaks, and didn’t have the opportunity to do so because Harper immediately led them to the door to episode 8. It’s crazy how they went through all those portals and suffered from several injuries without any breaks at all, which would add up to the trauma they’d get from the portal arc.

Overall, I really love Lukas’ character. He’s fun to analyze, and his writing is so painfully overlooked by the writers themselves, but that means more analyzing and headcanons for me! He’s definitely one of my favorite characters ever, I feel like I can project myself so much onto him because he unnervingly is extremely similar to me. But that’s a biiig reason why he’s my favorite. Okay I’m done now

~~~