#lonely.. it's always been rather lonely in my world so even if i don't talk w them as much as i'd like to bcs i'm afraid of reaching out

[lullabyes22-blog]

Real talk because you are THE resident Silco expert and all your headcanons are 100% correct: why does fandom think Silco would be good in bed? (Or good at sex at all?)

I've seen headcanons about him being a giver, and about his dick game being fire, and while he's a sexy, charismatic man, I feel like he's too... selfish, insecure, and just not a romantic guy. He's also a very bitter, lonely, and angry dude. Idk, it makes sense he would have some kinks but I feel like he'd be too much of a bitch to care for anyone else in bed. I guess he'd want it rough, and I've read some fics where he's a sadist, but I feel like it'd just be a quick fuck to satisfy himself, not a slow, passionate, sensual thing.

idk, do with this what you will.

I agree - with nuance 💗

Silco - at least as I write him in FNF - is principally a headfuck. If he's demonstrating an interest in you, then he wants something from you. If he's nice to you, there's a bottom line. No act of generosity comes without strings attached, and every small kindness comes at a terrible price. That aspect of cold-blooded calculus is never far away from his base nature, which splits the world into assets and liabilities, and his own actions into a transaction of cost versus reward.

With that in mind, he excels, not at sex, but at getting his partners to do what he wants them to do. For him, it's one of the many fluid ways of expressing power, and demonstrating his mastery over the subtleties of the human body and mind.

A few readers have noticed that he comes across as very detached and controlled during FnF's sex scenes - and that they read as weirdly voyeuristic. That always delights me, because it's an intentional choice. He doesn't really see his partner as anything beyond a medium to his goals, so his focus is entirely on their physical responses and his own actions. His narration is distant, observational and impersonal, because he doesn't experience sex as something that involves an emotional or empathetic connection. Rather, he's gauging how his target's responses play out on a physical plane, and he's calibrating his own actions to maximise their impact.

To give credit where credit is due, he's very intelligent, patient and observant. There is also some realistic backing to the running gag that Good D is invariably attached to Bad Men. More specifically, Bad Broke Men. Silco has not grown up in a position of privilege or wealth. He has been forced to make use of every available resource. He has survived by the skin of his teeth on a constant knife edge of deprivation, hunger and fear.

He's a scrapper. He's a survivor. He's an opportunist.

And to be any of those things, you need to know your way around people: their wants and weaknesses. That's the foundation for the idea that he's good in bed - that he can anticipate his partner's desires, and respond accordingly. The difference is, his actions have no romantic underpinning. It's a matter of pure pragmatism and self-interest.

In terms of technical skill, he's likely very good at finding his partner's pressure points, both literal and figurative, and exploiting them. But if it were up to him, he'd find a way to turn the thumbscrews with nothing more than a well-chosen word and a cold look. The sex is just a generality, and his enjoyment a function of their compliance.

When it comes to actual intimacy?

My friends, he'd be spectacularly bad.

Not just bad, but skittish, hostile and hopelessly inept. He'd feel like an accomplished stage actor who has to step out onto the boards for an improv class. He hasn't got the right lines, he isn't dressed for the part, and he isn't even sure what role he's supposed to be playing. He'd be so awkward, he'd actually have trouble looking his partner in the eyes. The sum total of his sexual ouvre would devolve into the following comedy of errors:

"What the fuck is this?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Don't touch me there."

"This is going well, right?"

"Why can't I get it up?"

"I can't do this."

"Leave me alone."

"Where are you going?"

"Don't leave me."

"They always leave me."

"Why does everyone leave me?"

And he'd only spiral deeper into self-loathing and isolation. To submit to intimacy is to open oneself up to the mortifying ordeal of being known, and the constant risk of rejection. To Silco, it is anathema. Actual emotional vulnerability during sex would be not unlike attending his own public execution.

But.

Silco is not a one-note villain, much less a one-trick pony. He has a human history riven in deprivation, bloodshed and betrayal. He's remade himself from a 'weak' man into the premier kingpin of Zaun, but that predatory bracing still hides remnants of the soft-natured idealist he once was. In fact, he's the product of a deeply embedded internal conflict between two distinct versions of himself. The one who seeks to burn his enemies, and the one who seeks to save his city. He's also, as demonstrated by his love for Jinx, capable of profound devotion, loyalty, and a deep-seated longing for companionship.

That means the potential for romance exists. It's just buried deep, deep, deep down beneath years of abuse, neglect, trauma, and self-imposed barriers. If he meets someone who can dismantle those barriers, or bypass them altogether and earn his trust, there is a ray of hope.

Sex would still be frightening and uncomfortable, and it'd involve a lot of trial and error. But it'd also have the potential to be deeply healing. Not because Silco would become a better man, but because his partner would make him want to try. He'd also bring the same intense focus, intelligence, and determination to the task that he applies to his criminal empire - which means that, once he does have his sea legs, Silco would have the potential to become a truly giving lover.

It's all about context.

And the context is always: will he take the gamble when he has nothing to lose, and everything to gain?

[kingkat12]

feeling (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, fingering, voyeurism, semi-public sexual activities, smoking, teasing, praises, Roman shouldn't be allowed on school grounds

summary: you've finally mastered the art of feeling nothing at all. emotions don't serve you, they're painful, and everything about them downright suck. however, what happens when you're suddenly faced with the fact that feeling can feel... good?

word count: 3,200

a/n: hey luvs!! I've always hated being someone that feels everything deeply and painfully, even the smallest things, so I wrote the start last night just to get it out of my head, but... you know me, it spiralled, SORRY!!! tihi oh well, enjoy!<33

Everything in life had to be a fight. Always.

Living could be so painful sometimes. Feeling was exhausting. Therefore, it was easier to shut down all my emotions instead of dealing with the overwhelming pain cramming itself down the veins of my forearms, ripping through the vessels of blood at the tips of my fingers with every bad thing that happened in my life. 

If I could walk around with a sign saying 'I'm not trying to be mean, I just don't care enough', I would. People always assumed I was a piece of shit due to my inclination never to smile. However, the sign would make me more of a freak at school than I already was, and I had an inkling that I shouldn't dig myself a deeper hole than I already had. High school was hard as it was, why complicate it further?

My lack of social indulgence left me rather lonely. Not that I cared. It was easier this way-- I didn't have to pretend to be bearable to be around. I didn't have to smile, I didn't have to laugh, and I didn't have to fake anything in the world. 

However, I wasn't allowed to live peacefully on my island of isolation. Every so often, a little boat would float by the shore and ask to park by the dock for a short break, to rest from its travels and seek momentary company, despite the fact that I hadn't sought this out whatsoever. And to make matters worse, the boat would do so every day, with its voice calling louder with every passing of the sun and moon-- eventually, I had to relent. 

So here we sat, on my island of isolation, also known as the empty bleachers. Roman pulled two cigarettes out of his box and placed them between his plush lips, lighting both at the same time. It had become a ritual of sorts, where he'd approach whenever he saw me at school and sit with me in silence for a little cigarette break. When we first started running into each other like this, he would try to small-talk, but this died down when he pieced together that silence was the best for us both. 

We needed the time away from everyone, Roman probably more than I. He handed me the cigarette, and we exchanged a short nod at the other with the exchange.

Someone wise once said that you learn something new every day. Because after all this time watching his extroverted social life from afar, wondering how he had the energy for all the people around him all the time, I realized there was only one other person in the world that understood the wish to surrender of a full-body shutdown as well as I did-- and that was Roman Godfrey. 

And that was why he sat here with me, smoking in silence.

Still, after all this time, I never knew why he sought me out. Why he had approached at all the first time, and why he had chosen me. Was it maybe that he saw solace in my carefree rejection of everything and everyone? I wondered whether he wished to be like me. 

And I wondered whether he knew that I wished to be like him.

I loved to watch the way Roman inhaled the first drag of his cigarette-- it was always with a small moan followed by his eyes closing, his legs spreading out on his seat, and a nod to himself. Like he had been waiting for a new hit for years. Because whenever I watched him and his ritualistic ways, I felt specks of something. The only something that didn't hurt, and didn't feel like my arms were about to rip themselves open and gush blood. 

When he didn't look, I allowed myself to smile. I could give in to it. And today, after months of sitting in silence and barely exchanging more than a few sentences about ourselves, I wanted to tell him what was on my mind. "Roman?"

He slowly opened his eyes, surprised that I had spoken. "Shit," he breathed, exhaling a ring of smoke. "You broke your vow of silence for me? I'm flattered."

I would've laughed. His tone was dead serious, yet I could see him fighting a smile. Nonetheless, I went on, but in a different direction; "Do you think we're friends?" I asked, inhaling another drag of smoke.

Roman stilled, watching me. He was surely trying to calculate the way this conversation was going, or what I was trying to get at. Eventually, he spoke; "No,"

"No?"

"No," Roman shrugged-- "You sort of remind me of this guy I once knew, Tyler. He was at every party I was at, and he always had a stash of weed with him, so we ended up smoking it on the porch at, like, every occasion. I never knew anything about him, though, so I don't think we were friends."

"And... you don't think Tyler thought you were friends?"

It looked like Roman hadn't thought about that. "I don't think he ever cared," he mumbled. "And I didn't think you did either."

I nodded to myself as I exhaled the smoke, unsure whether to keep his gaze or look away. I was scared I'd start feeling again, with the way this convo was going. "Alright then," I said, rolling the cigarette between my fingers. 

Perplexed, Roman's brows drew together. "Would you want to be friends?"

"No,"

"... Okay?" He let out a laugh which sounded an awful lot like a huff, and he shook his head as threw the cigarette down to the floor and stomped it. "Luckily for you, you've made it to the rapid round of today's quiz." Roman turned to me, nudging my shoulder. "And I'm allowing myself to be nosy, for once. So, tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why you don't want to be friends,"

It spilled past my lips easier than I thought it would; "Because you make me feel,"

A pause. It was too long. 

"Feel?" Roman looked more puzzled than before. "Feel what?"

"Just... feel. You make me feel stuff,"

"What stuff?"

"Just stuff!" I wasn't sure why it annoyed me to explain it to him. In my mind, he should've gotten it. Understood it. "It's not a particular feeling, it's just feeling in general."

Roman cleared his throat, and with his next breath, he took the cigarette between my fingers into his hand. "Ever heard of sociopaths?” he muttered, taking a drag. With the way his shoulders tensed, I couldn't make out whether he was nervous or excited. 

"I'm not a sociopath,"

"Then what the fuck do you mean?" Roman leaned in closer, yet I didn't move. Up close, his eyes were much greener, much more vibrant-- I didn't want to think about it. It made my stomach flutter. 

"You stole my cigarette..." What else was I supposed to say?

Roman stifled a laugh. "I didn't steal it. Ever heard of sharing? It stems from an emotion called caring,"

"Fuck you,"

Being so close to him was intoxicating. Stupid. Dangerous. My heart hadn't beat this fast in months-- why had I opened my mouth at all? My thoughts raced as Roman reached forward, gently placing his thumb on my bottom lip as he watched my eyes widen. A shaky breath escaped me, fanning the skin of his fingers. With a soft push that didn't meet much resistance, Roman pressed down on my lip, parting my mouth as he took a drag of my cigarette, maintaining just about the most intense eye contact I had ever had in my life. 

There was nothing I could do to move away. Not that I wanted to, anyway. So when Roman's upper lip brushed up against mine as he leaned in close, exhaling the smoke into my mouth, I was sure my heart would jump out of my chest, up my throat, and leap right at him. 

Even after I inhaled the substance, Roman didn't move away. My mind was buzzing, wondering what to do, whether to say something, whether to ask what was going on-- all I knew, was that I had enjoyed the first physical contact I'd had with another human in a while. 

"I've always wondered what it must be like to be a sociopath," Roman whispered against my lips, his thumb leaving my skin. "Do tell."

The more flustered I became, the more my cheeks burned. "I'm not a sociopath,"

"What are you, then?"

"Exhausted," I breathed. "Do you know how tiring it is to feel?"

Roman let out a huff, a laugh, as he let the cigarette burn out between his fingers. "It can be exhausting if you're feeling all the wrong things, sure. But if the feelings are good..." His voice lowered as his nose nudged mine with a teasing touch, and I could feel him smile against me as he heard the small hitch of my breath. "If they're good, you'll suddenly find yourself wanting to feel everything all at once." 

Everything indicated that he would kiss me. I couldn't believe it. My heart raced in my chest as air refused to leave me, and I could feel the drumming of my blood coursing through my veins in anticipation. This was a rush unlike any other. So I braced for it, stilled in my seat, made my mind accustomed to the thought--

Until I couldn't feel his breath falling against my cheek anymore. Until all I felt was the cold breeze of the air brushing a strand of hair away from my face. I opened my eyes only to find Roman was getting up from his seat next to me. He briefly turned to catch a glimpse of the stunned expression on my face before he gave in to a snicker. "There you go, there was my crash course," he joked. "Sorry for making you feel things again, I guess. It wasn't my intention. This was nice though." Roman motioned to the both of us-- I didn't like his tone. This felt like a goodbye. This felt like I had broken some holy contract I didn't know I had signed. "I'll leave you alone from now on, don't worry. I'll find out whether Tyler is available for cig breaks at school instead--"

I had no idea what came over me as my hand shot forward and clasped his wrist. "Don't do that,"

"Do what?" Roman was unreadable-- a part of me wondered whether he was dragging this reaction out of me on purpose. Had his skills with people brewed down to developing mastery of manipulation? 

"Did I piss you off somehow?" I tried. "Did I say something wrong?" 

Roman's brows raised in confusion. "You haven't done anything,"

"Then why are you leaving?"

He blinked. Once. Twice. "You said that you didn't want to feel anything. And since I make you feel stuff, I'm doing you a favor, no?"

Roman was a smart guy-- I had known it deep down. Still, I rose from my seat, only to be reminded of how tall he was. How handsome he was. "And what if I... want to feel?"

Silence laid itself like a thick duvet over us as we stood and stared at each other, none of us knowing when to speak or what to say.

Eventually, Roman let out a short hum as his eyes rounded out. There was an emptiness to his gaze. "I don't have any love to give," he breathed. "If that's what you're looking for, you've come to the wrong place."

That was almost nice to hear. Love would've been too grand of a start. I finally spoke; "Not that. I just... want to feel good again. I don't remember how that feels anymore," 

Roman's ears perked up. "Oh?" The corners of his mouth curved into a look I couldn't decipher. It was somewhere between intrigue and calculated success; 

"Well... I could make you feel real good, that's for sure."

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

So... I succumbed. Not everything had to be a fight, at the end of the day. 

I succumbed in a secluded part of the school library, a section Roman said nobody ever came to. He had led me down a path of stairs, past the archeology section and the biographies of famous mathematicians, and into the far corner of the philosophy area. 

It was there that he had finally kissed me, finally pulled me in by my waist, and led my back against the wall next to a whole row of books about Platon-- and it was there that he put his large hand beneath my skirt and pressed the heel of his palm into my clit through my underwear, making me gasp into his mouth. 

I squirmed, my grip in his hair tightening as I pulled him closer. Roman tasted like cigarettes and smelled like expensive perfume you'd test out at an airport when you're bored at Duty Free. However, my thoughts dulled as my hips keened into his hand, against the sweet pressure, and my heart thumped harder in my chest with every brush of his lips against mine. 

"So..." Roman whispered, his cocky smirk gracing his beautiful face. "Feeling anything yet?"

Bastard. He knew damn well. "Yeah-- Yes," 

"Good," With a rather patronizing laugh, Roman pressed kisses to the corners of my mouth. "I've waited to see you like this for so long, do you know that? Since the first time I sat next to you and you barely paid me any mind, I've wanted to see you squirm." My breath hitched as he pressed his finger into the wetness that had formed in my underwear, tapping it to test the slick. His lips brushed over my ear; "Should've done this earlier, hm? Relieved you a little, made you feel good?"

This was the most horrifying feeling of gratification ever. I never thought I'd be the type for this sort of behaviour, but I suppose life pushes you toward the direction you're destined to take, right? 

"Who would've thought," Roman purred, a small chuckle building in his chest. "And here I thought you were one of those people that don't even get horny. Bet you're the type to lay in bed and get off when you're bored." 

My cheeks burned. Burned. "N-No--"

"No? Aw, you're still fighting," And just as I thought it couldn't get any worse, Roman pulled my panties aside and eased a finger into me. I couldn't meet his eyes anymore as my hands gave into a tremble, and I clutched the fabric of his shirt as I hid my face in his chest. 

"Tell me, then," Roman whispered, reaching his free hand into the hair at the nape of my neck to pull me away from him. He dragged my head back, forcing me to look up at him as he pressed himself further up against me, cornering me as he pushed my back harder into the wall. I was panting against his lips at this point, feeling him curl his finger into my sweet spot like he had done this a thousand times before-- he probably had, anyway. I hated the jealousy that coursed through my veins, one of the emotions I hadn't allowed myself to feel in ages. He spoke with a smug grin; "Tell me what you're feeling, you little psycho."

That would've earned him a snicker, had I not been in such a compromising position. "Good," I breathed, finding his green eyes. "Feels-- Feels n-nice."

"Nice? Only nice?" Roman tsked, shaking his head. "That's not enough." And with that, he eased another finger into me, which only had me gripping his shirt harder. Being filled by Roman's fingers like this, knowing we could be walked in on at any moment, made my whole body burn with adrenaline. "Ro--"

"How many times have you thought about this when we've been smoking, huh? Don't tell me you've been wishing I'd do this shit this whole time?" Roman pressed a kiss to my ear as his fingers stroked into me, pressing into my sweet spot with a gentle rubbing-motion. 

I could only shake my head. That was the truth. I hadn't ever allowed myself to think about him like that to spare my feelings. I know I'd have been squirming in my seat, staring at the way his hair always fell over his eyes, and the way his broad shoulders sunk in pleasure with every inhale of nicotine, if I had allowed myself to think those thoughts.

"No?" he cooed, feigning disappointment with a pout. The way he was almost mocking me made my stomach flutter-- or was that his fingers? "Well, I have. Many times. I've always wondered if it'd make you talk or shut down more. Or mostly, I wondered how you'd look if I did--" Roman placed his thumb on my clit, and the added stimulation only made my eyes water with pleasure as my hips bucked into his hand once more. "This."

"Fuck--" I hissed, leaning forward to kiss his neck. If Roman wasn't going to make it easy for me, I had to shut myself up somehow. Now more than ever, his perfume was prevalent. 

He let out a small sigh of pleasure as the thrusts of his fingers grew harder, not paying any mind to the way my knees gave into a slight tremble. "God, wouldn't it be bad if we were caught right now?" he said with a laugh. "You wouldn't be known as the quiet one anymore, that's for sure." Roman pulled me away from his neck with the hand he had in my hair and scanned the look on my face. My eyes glossed over as I drowned out my moans with heavy breaths; "Fuck-- Fuck you!"

"Is that how you talk to your friends?" Roman cooed, leaning down to press a short kiss to my lips, the soft pillows of his mouth pushing me into submission. "Cause wasn't it friends you wanted us to be, hm?" 

I couldn't answer. Not when his tone made me clench around the stretch of his fingers, not when he looked this good, not when he talked to me this way. "N-No,"

"No?" 

"No!"

"What, then? Best friends?"

If I could punch him, I would. Yet I only managed to gather the strength to suppress another moan, feeling my high creep up on me faster than ever before. It was almost embarrassing how fast I was about to cum on Roman's fingers in the fucking school library. He was making a wreck of me. "Wait, I-- no, fuck, I might--"

"Ulta-mega-best-friends?" Roman only giggled as his unrelenting pace continued. "Fuck-friends would probably serve us both the most, though, hm?"

"Okay, s-sure--"

"Don't you think?"

I let go of his shirt as my body keened against his fingers, sinking down a little against the wall as I squeezed my eyes shut. The pooling feeling of arousal in my stomach made me tense up, and I prayed I wouldn't collapse to my knees-- I hadn't had a standing orgasm before. How did that even work? "Yeah," I cried. "That-- That sounds good."

Roman kissed me again as a reward, smiling from ear to ear as my muffled moans filled the empty section of the library. I clamped down on his fingers, feeling my clit pulse against his thumb as I gave in to the strongest, most intense feeling I'd had in months. 

"That's it, feel it all," he purred, rubbing me through my orgasm. 

"Good girl."

[hctrslly]

❝𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬 𝗜'𝗠 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦❞

Summary : Satoru gets home after a long mission !

Cw : smuty smut smut , subbttm! gojo , topdom! reader , male reader , both are insanely desperate (I think ) , spit used as lube , pillow princess gojo , reader is shorter than gojo because yeah

Btw Gojo is wearing his blindfold at the beginning so uh yeah !

Word count : 1,219

Gojo butt

It's been a week , aka seven days , or 168 hours , or 1440 minutes , orrrrr 86400 seconds since Satoru saw you last. If only he didn't have to go on all these missions ! And the higher ups just had to give him a week long mission , especially one that's international for some reason , even though there's no curses anywhere else in the world . . . At least he can get some cute souvenirs ! Especially for his one and only beautiful loving boyfriend !!

You waited at he airport to pick him up , going to one of the restaurants they had in their to get a snack as you waited. His flight is supposed to land soon , and you couldn't wait much longer to see your boyfriend !! :'<

You waited for what felt like an eternity (another ten minutes) and his plane finally landed. You anxiously stood up , waiting for everyone to file out of the plane , when you feel a tap on your shoulder behind you. Obviously , that startled you , but it was ok 'cause you were it was Satoru.

"Satoru ! Don't scare me like that , good lord . . ."

"Wow , okay just say you wanted my plane to crash . . ." He says jokingly , pouting dramatically

"Missed you too 'toru ," you chuckle , giving him a peck on his cheek as you take his suitcase for him.

Satoru tells you about his trip on the way back , shows you photos of some of the scenery he saw while there , and maybe a video or two. It would've been easier to teleport both you and him back home rather than taking another uber , but he wanted to talk to you more.

____________________๑♡⁠๑______________________

You carry his suitcase into your shared bedroom , and he throws his backpack in the corner next to the door before practically tackling you onto the bed.

"eughh . . . Missed ya so much ," Satoru whined , kissing your neck softly. It felt nice to be so close to each other again.

"I know I did too . . ." You sigh , resting your hands on the small of his back , feeling him slightly shiver at the sensation. "I was so lonely with out you , poor shoko was probably sick of hearing me rant about how much I missed you."

He hums , lifting his head and kissing you jaw , then your cheek , and finally your lips. You kiss him back , gasping as he slips his long slender fingers into your slacks.

"whattt ? Can you blame me i haven't seen you in ages !"

"caught me off guard is all ," you chuckle , looking at him as he rolls on his side next to you , flashing you a stupid grin that always made your heart flutter.

Nothing could stop you from kissing him again , leaning over your boyfriend as you groped his cock through his pants which only got tighter by the second.

"m/n . . ." Satoru moaned , desperation apparent in his voice. You'd tell him to be patient , but patience is something neither of you have at the moment. You craved it just as much as he did.

"I know I know ," it didn't take long for you to take his belt off , sliding both his pants and boxers off. It was a bit hard to do when he was kissing your face all over , but you didn't mind at all.

His hardened cock sprung up as you pulled his boxers down , shivering as the cool air of the room hit him. However , you didn't pay much attention to it , after all that wasn't your main concern.

You flip him over , chuckling a little as he gasps suddenly.

"good lord I forgot how nice your ass was . . . " Your hands rubbing his pale cheeks , squeezing them softly making him arch his back at the sensation. Using one hand , you take off your slacks , then your boxers , letting them fall down just enough for your dick to slip out.

You stroke yourself a little bit , spreading the pre that comes out of your hardened cock down your shaft. Satoru tries to look back , which to you looks kind of silly because of his blindfold. You take it off , leaning over his shoulder.

"lemme see my boyfriend's pretty face." Satoru's face went bright red at your words , eyes still directly staring at your cock.

You glanced around the room, finding that there was no lube in sight. Desperate to be inside him , you spread his cheeks , spitting on his hole and using your finger to spread it around and to stretch him out a little.

"f-fuck . . . " The white haired man mumbled , hiding his face in his hands. You could feel his muscle pulsing around you as you pushed in n' out of his hole.

You'd always manage to miss his prostate , which only made him feel more pent up than before. The fact you were RIGHT there and barely missing almost brought him to tears :c thankfully though , you decides that he was stretched out enough.

You pull your finger out , your cock twitching at the sound of his whines. You grip his waist , soft yet firm , using your free hand to spread his cheeks part , watching as he sucks your dick in with ease. His moans filled the room almost instantly , mouth open wide and eyes fluttering shut as he takes you deeper.

"There ya go . . ." You groan , pulling out a lil' before gently and slowly thrusting back into his hole , hitting his prostate.

"mmgh– feel s' good . . ." Satoru's voice cracks as you hit his prostate , making him jolt slightly. You've barely even started and he's already about to make a mess of himself !

Slow , careful , and loving , everything about what you're doing right now is full of so much love , it had him tearing up , and wanting more of it. A lot more ^_^

A particularly harsh thrust , much rougher than your previous ones is enough to making his bury his face into the satin pillows on your bed , staining them with his tears , not only that but smearing his drool all over himself as well.

'toru couldn't help but push himself back up against you , pushing your dick deeper in , earning a groan of pleasure. Gosh you wanted to go faster , even just a little bit. And you could tell he wanted it too.

"ah— s' tight 'toru . . ." You say as you grind into him , staring down at his ass the whole time. So plump , so soft , very pale too , you could already imagine how red it would be by the time you two are finished. The thought made your cock twitch.

"hah— what'cha thinkin' bout ?" His voice manages to snap you out of your thoughts as you look up at him.

"hm , nothin' ," then you thrust into him again , making his eyes roll back as his arms give out for a split moment. God he looks so pretty like that. Of course , he always looks pretty ! But seeing your boyfriend in absolute pleasure was almost another type of beauty.

"oh god . . . " Satoru moaned , gripping the sheets of the shared bed rocking his hips as you rock yours in a perfect unison. The soft 'plap plap plap' as his his skin meets yours. "need , hah— Moreee . . ."

"Wanna me to go faster ?" You ask softly , groaning as he clenches around you again.

"yes , fuck– please !" He begs , voice high pitched as he fucks himself onto your dick. And how could you say no to him ?

God this took forever to write , a lot longer than expected actually . . . I wasn't planning on leaving it on a cliff hanger but I really didn't know how to continue it :(( I hope you enjoyed it though !

[plutoswritingplanet]

Mortal Kombat 1 Intro Dialogues

a/n: some slightly flirty dialogues for suggested characters from Mortal Kombat 1 (and 11), reader is a blood mage, adjacent to "Unpunishable"

Warnings: Suggestive Language, Obscure References, Poor Attempts at Comedy

Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung: Liu Kang is squandering your potential.

Reader: I trust his judgement completely.

Shang Tsung: You were made for so much more.

...

Reader: You want me to make a deal with the Devil.

Shang Tsung: All I ask in return, is your soul.

Reader: It's too high a price!

...

Shang Tsung: I lay before you my eternal heart...

Reader: There is no love with you, only ownership.

Shang Tsung: I dearly love all of my possessions.

...

Reader: I must believe there's good even in the darkest corners of the world

Shang Tsung: Finding it in me might turn out to be a futile fight

Reader: I don't give up easily, Shang Tsung

...

Shang Tsung: Have you ever thought to say "stop"? "If you love me, you would stop?"

Reader: Not in a thousand years.

Shang Tsung: I see now, why we're destined for each other

...

Reader: The things you've been doing in your laboratories are vile

Shang Tsung: I've used the same magic, as the one coursing through your veins

Reader: Liar!

Liu Kang

Liu Kang: Empress Sindel has approved your application to study Outworld's medicine.

Reader: I'm honored by her trust.

Liu Kang: You'll do a splendid job as Earthrealm's ambassador.

...

Reader: I fear the pull of darkness overpowering me.

Liu Kang: I will guide you, until your mind is at peace.

Reader: What if it never ends?

...

Liu Kang: In the previous timeline, you were my close friend and adversary.

Reader: And in this timeline?

Liu Kang: I'm inclined to say the same.

...

Reader: Doesn't it get lonely, being a God?

Liu Kang: I'm devoted to protecting Earthrealm and its people.

Reader: You didn't answer my question.

...

Liu Kang: Beware Shang Tsung's honeyed words.

Reader: You've said we were destined for each other in all timelines.

Liu Kang: And your union always leads to your suffering.

...

Reader: You knew I'd reject Shang Tsung's offer? Fight him every step of the way?

Liu Kang: I had faith, you would make the right choice

Reader: Honestly, do you have music playing in your head when you say garbage like that

Johnny Cage

Johnny: Let me just say, there's no other place I would rather be, than right here with you right now.

Reader: I can change that very easily.

Johnny: Why so serious, sweet cheeks?

...

Reader: No, Johnny, I won't be playing in any of your movies, ever.

Johnny: Can I ask why?

Reader: Why I don't want the job that makes your brain explode?

...

Johnny: You might wanna reconsider your rendezvous with the Sorcerer.

Reader: Which one?

Johnny: Oh, you are a bad woman.

...

Reader: Don't be such a baby, it's just a scrap.

Johnny: And I need a hot nurse to patch it up.

Reader: Why do I even… You're impossible.

...

Johnny: You have experience with emotionally fragile men, right?

Reader: You're self-aware today.

Johnny: I was talking about Kung Lao...

...

Reader: Okay, Ninja Priest was actually kinda good.

Johnny: YES! I knew you had a thing for the clergy.

Reader: That's not what I... You're such an ass!

Kung Lao

Reader: Do you think Liu Kang has destined us to become friends?

Kung Lao: Obviously, I'd never choose this for myself.

Reader: He could've made you less of twat...

...

Kung Lao: It's way too dangerous for you to travel Outworld alone.

Reader: I don't need a babysitter, Kung Lao.

Kung Lao: Prove it, then.

...

Reader: If you buy me dinner at Madame Bo's, I'll heal your arm.

Kung Lao: I see your time with Shang Tsung is rubbing off on you.

Reader: See, now I gotta hurt ya.

...

Kung Lao: How does it feel, being in the center of the Snake's attention.

Reader: Fuck you man, I didn't ask for this.

Kung Lao: Not good then.

...

Reader: Come on, I paid for dinner last time.

Kung Lao: I'll be happy to pay... Once you beat me.

Reader: You can be an ass sometimes, you know that?

...

Kung Lao: You know I only meant it as a joke, right?

Reader: Let me show you just how funny I think you are

Kung Lao: Bring it on, Nurse.

Bi-Han

Reader: You betrayed everything your clan stood for.

Bi-Han: You have no moral high-ground here, Healer.

Reader: I don't need it.

...

Bi-Han: Join the Lin Kuei, and unleash your true power.

Reader: Not while they're under your command, traitor.

Bi-Han: Your pride will be your downfall.

...

Reader: I can feel your blood run cold through your body...

Bi-Han: It will boil while I destroy you.

Reader: You'll freeze to death, then.

...

Bi-Han: Your aversion to power is your greatest flaw.

Reader: Should I follow your lead, then, and betray all I love for a promise of greatness?

Bi-Han: Is it wrong to want more?

...

Reader: Maybe I can beat some sense into you…

Bi-Han: I will crush you, little girl.

Reader: Great, a quip about my height, so original.

...

Bi-Han: We meet again, Blood Mage.

Reader: I knew you couldn't stay away, Bi-Han.

Bi-Han: Let's see if your training has progressed.

Erron Black

(am i the only one devastated he wasn't included in mk1?)

Erron: What's a pretty lookin' thing like you doin' in a place like this?

Reader: Holy shit, you even talk like a cowboy!

Erron: …Nevermind.

...

Reader: If I win, I get to wear the hat.

Erron: You'd look mighty fine in it, I'd wager.

Reader: Don't you pull your punches on me now, Black.

...

Erron: There's quite the price on your head, sweetheart.

Reader: And you'll do everything to collect it, right?

Erron: I could be persuaded against it, with the right motivation...

...

Reader: Do you flirt with all your targets?

Erron: Only pretty little ones, like you, girlie.

Reader: Well then, let's dance, Cowboy.

...

Erron: I wouldn't mind giving you a ride around town, little lady.

Reader: I'd rather beat you where you stand.

Erron: Be still, my beating heart.

...

Reader: I know who sent you.

Erron: Someone who's eager to get their hands back on you.

Reader: You can both keep them to yourself.

[raven-dor]

Could you do a cute fluffy Edmund Pensive, where like he’s been busy with his duties and reader gets lonely and he makes it up with like a cute dinner under the stars and maybe ends in nsfw if you write that

interrupted

In which king edmund the just cannot seem to find a moment alone with his lover

PAIRING: edmund pevensie x reader, lucy pevensie x PLATONIC!reader, peter pevensie x PLATONIC!reader, susan pevensie x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, young love, horrible timing

WORD COUNT: 1,823

🎶 : photograph - cody fry

AN: This is set during the Golden Age, meaning Edmund is 21, Lucy is 18, Susan is 23, and Peter is 24!! I don't write NSFW, sorry!!

The nymphs played among the trees, floating wherever the wind took them. She sighed. Last time she’d been in the woods Edmund had brought her to the most exquisite waterfall, and they’d- She blushed. 

Aslan, she missed him. 

“Y/N! Are you listening?” Susan sighed, tapping her lady-in-waiting’s shoulder. “Y/N?” 

The girl shook her head, curtsying quickly. “My lady, I apologize.” What was she supposed the say; that she’d been daydreaming about her brother, wishing that she was in his arms rather than this boring conversation. Not that Susan was boring, quite the opposite, but talking about what shade of blue she wanted for a dress was not the highlight of her day. 

The gentle queen smiled, laughing at her friend. “It is alright; I was only talking about what dress I’d like to wear.” 

“May I assume you will wear the gold again?” She raised an eyebrow, teasing the queen. “It is your favorite.” 

“You’d be correct.” Y/N walked over to the wardrobe, pulling out the dress for later that evening. “Perhaps you could do that hairstyle with the flowers…” 

“Whatever you wish, my lady.” 

Susan sat down at her desk, glancing over the stack of papers. “Will you be in attendance?” 

“I would not miss it for the world. Queen Lucy’s birthday has always been the most anticipated event of the season. She has the most exquisite taste.” 

Susan nodded, humming. “And what will you be wearing?” 

Y/N smiled. “I suppose this will do.” 

The dark-haired girl looked up, shaking her head. “Go in the wardrobe, find a dress you like.” 

“Are you quite serious?” 

“Of course.” She looked back down, waving her away. “Now go on.”

Susan kindly gave her the rest of the day off, stating that she would be too wrapped up in responding to all the letters to make use of her time. Y/N knew Susan could tell she was anxious for some time to herself and wished she could thank her for reading her so well. 

She supposed that was what happened when you were around someone for 8 years. 

Often, when Susan let her go and do as she pleased, she found herself in the library. It was large, larger than any library she’d ever seen before. There were ladders for each shelf, every one leading to the second floor. On the second floor, there was a corner that had the perfect view overlooking the town. 

That is where Y/N relaxed every day she could manage. Filled with too much excitement at the prospect of seeing Edmund, she could not find it in her to read, and so she simply stared at the people below, smiling at how peaceful Cair Paravel looked. 

A cough broke the silence. “My lady.” 

Y/N grinned, jumping to her feet. “Your Grace.” 

The young king smiled back. “You look-” 

She ran to him, pressing her lips to his. “Aslan, I missed you.” 

He sighed, pulling her close. “I missed you much more.” 

“Not possible.” 

He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “How has your day been, my love?” 

“Your sister let me pick a dress for Lucy’s birthday ball.” She smirked. “I believe you will like it.” 

His cheeks grew red. “Will I?” 

“Most certainly.” She walked out of his hold, sitting down on the couch once more. “Care to join me?” 

He winced. “I would love to, it’s just-” 

She forced herself not to glare at him. “I understand.” She shooed him away. “You have duties. I will see you later this evening.” 

He nodded but looked unsure. “I can stay-” 

“Edmund, I will be fine.” She smiled. “Really.” 

Guests piled into the ballroom, extravagant gowns making it hard to walk through the crowd. Y/N greeted each guest personally, thanking them for coming to the occasion. Lucy’s lady-in-waiting had spearheaded the occasion but was insistent on putting the finishing touches on the young Queen’s hair, so the task fell to Y/N. 

“My lady.” King Peter stood in front of her, a bright grin adorning his face. “Do tell Maria she did excellent work.” 

She nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.” 

Peter’s wife laughed, teasing him. “Or you could just tell her yourself, my dear.” 

He nodded. “What would I do without you?” 

“Most likely go mad.” She smirked. “Amongst other things.” 

Y/N smiled. She’d remembered their wedding well. It had been a grand occasion, with lords and ladies from all over Narnia visiting. Aslan himself had made an appearance, but what really stood out to her that night was that Edmund had asked her to dance. 

Where was Edmund? 

She scanned the room, locking eyes with him. She blushed, waving, but he did not wave back. Instead, he went back to his conversation with some Telmarine lord. She tried to brush it off, but Peter noticed instantly. He always noticed everything; it was rather annoying at times. “I’m sure he’ll be done soon enough. It’s his sister’s birthday, after all. He can’t work forever.” 

Y/N smiled. “I believe he would work forever if the option was available.” 

“Yes, well…” He sighed. “Perhaps I have been too hard on him. Maybe if-” The horns blared, signaling that Lucy was approaching. The crowd turned towards the two great doors, murmurs echoing. Lucy appeared at the top of the stairs, the picture of beauty in her pink gown. Her hair was long, flowing past her waist, with gems thrown in every so often. Her crown sat perfectly atop her head, and her smile radiated warmth. 

“Queen Lucy the Valiant.” 

Thunderous applause rang throughout the hall. Peter might have been the loudest of all, besides his wife, who had always had a soft spot for the younger girl. She smiled, clapping politely when something tapped her shoulder. She turned, rolling her eyes at Edmund. “So now you have time for me?” 

He tilted his head. “Sorry?” 

She hissed. “I waved at you. Did you not see me?” 

He stepped closer, smiling as he whispered so the nosy noblemen didn’t think something was amiss. “I’m sorry, I was making an arrangement with Lord Sopespian.” 

“I wasn’t aware there was any tension between us and Telmar recently.” 

“There aren’t.” 

She looked at his curiously. “Then what were you-”

“Edmund!” Y/N gasped, sinking into a deep curtsy. “Your Grace. Happy Birthday.” 

Lucy smiled. “Please stand Y/N. You know I hate it when you do that.” 

“Yes, Your Grace.”  

The young girl looked in between the two. “Did I interrupt something?” 

Y/N shook her head. “Not at all Your Grace. I was just leaving.” She turned to Edmund, barely curtsying. “My King.” 

He sighed. “Y/N, please-” 

She walked away, leaving the siblings in silence. Lucy smirked. “What have you done now?” 

The halls of Cair Paravel were bustling, servants, nobles, and the likes walking through. Y/N was on the way to the kitchens to fetch Susan some afternoon tea when she spied Edmund’s black hair in the crowd. She dropped her head, trying to avoid the uncomfortable conversation that was sure to follow. 

She’d almost gotten past him too, but he’d stopped, tilting his head at the sight. “My lady.” 

She kept walking. Edmund tried not to groan. “Y/N.” 

To that she responded, whipping around, her eyes wide. “Your Grace, it is highly inappropriate to-”

He raised an eyebrow. “Follow me, please.” 

“I am meant to be getting your sister tea, Your Grace.” She glared. “If-” 

“It will only take a moment.” He crossed his arms. “Come.” 

“If you insist.” She murmured, following after.

Edmund chose to ignore that, rounding the corner and opening the door to his office. “After you.” 

“People will-” 

“Nothing you haven’t done before.” He waited, and she groaned, walking in.

“What is it that you need Your Grace?” 

“You were right.” 

Y/N tilted her head. “And this is regarding?” 

“Your dress. It was exquisite. You looked like a queen.” 

She fought the blush forming on her cheeks. “Is that all, Your Grace?”

“Stop calling me Your Grace. I understand that my duties have been…” He tried to find the right word. Y/N murmured, staring at the ground. “Interferring.” “Yes, interferring with our plans, but you must understand.” He walked over, grabbing her hands. “It is not of my choosing. I am not purposefully ignoring you.” 

“I never said-” 

“No you did not.” He smiled. “But I feel after two years, I know what you look like when you are upset. My love…” He kissed the back of her hands. “I am sorry. Truly, I am.”

“It’s alright Edmund. I’m sorry for losing my temper, I just-” She sighed. “I enjoy your company. I can’t help but miss spending time with you.” 

He nodded. “Would a midnight dinner under the stars interest you?” 

She grinned. “Edmund, I don’t want you to fuss over me.” 

“You say that, but you’re smiling. Besides, that is my favorite activity.” He smirked. “Would you really deny your king the pleasure of your company?” He leaned in, their lips inches apart. “Please say yes.” 

“Yes.” She whispered, heart beating. “Kiss me.” 

“As you wish.” 

“Edmund?” Y/N called out, waiting where he’d asked her to. “Darling?” 

“Over here.” She followed his voice, gasping. “Oh my-” Her eyes watered. “Edmund, this is too much.” 

“Is it?” He looked at his work, shaking his head. “I think it’s perfect, you deserve all this and more.” 

The blanket was laid out with candles surrounding, rose petals throw haphazardly. The stars shined brightly above them, and he had two baskets of food. She grinned. “Is that-” 

“Honey cake?” He nodded. “Made them myself.” 

She laughed. “I can tell.” She pointed to his cheek. “May I?”

“Please.” She stood on her tiptoes, brushing off the flour he’d forgotten. 

“This is so kind of you.” 

He laughed. “Nonsense. Shall we?” He handed her a honey cake, grinning when she rolled her eyes. “Good?” 

“Perfect.” 

“Peter pulled me aside today.” 

Y/N tilted her head. “Really?” 

“Something about prioritizing myself over work. Said he noticed I was neglecting my personal aspirations, whatever that means.” He raised an eyebrow. “That wouldn’t be your doing, would it?” 

She shook her head. “No, but he’s not wrong.” She put her hand over his. “You work too hard my love.” 

“Is it so bad that I want to ensure Narnia is safe?” 

“No, but to what end? You need to sleep. Don’t act like you do, I know you’ve been staying up lately. It does Narnia no good if you work yourself to death. What will we do then? Do you expect your brother or sisters to take up your role?” 

“Spoken like a true queen.” 

She sighed. “Edmund…” 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

“When am I not?” 

He glared playfully. “You’re rather chipper.” 

“I can’t help it.” She leaned over, kissing his cheek lightly. “You make me happy.” 

[lilmissbacon]

Rotg world building — Thoughts and theories

This was originally just going to be a reblog to THIS post but then I ended up going down a rabbit hole of my thoughts and opinions, so it became too annoyingly long for peoples/my preference.

Most of the post really expresses how I've always viewed the world of spirits in Rotg. The only thoughts I'm not really a fan of is the idea of some spirits not having physical forms and just being like big storms. Because what's the point of humanoid spirits being invisible to humans if they have no physical forms to other spirits as well?

I never saw Jack talking to the wind as the wind being an active spirit, I saw it as him just being so lonely he'd pretend the wind was alive to not feel so alone. After all, he only addressed the wind 1 time, if it were an actual being I feel like it'd be addressed more than once. Especially when Jack needed to get out of Antarctica: why would he need to fix his staff to fly out if the wind could've just picked him up unless he was the one making the wind? And like the post linked above said, the comics are unofficial. They're cool and I love them but they're not canon.

I do love the idea of their being 2 generations of spirits. Pre-MiM and post-MiM where the legends of Gods and myths are tales of the original spirits mistaken for higher deities and distorted over time. After all MiM wasn't always there (at least in the books) so how were their seasons/seasonal spirits on earth before him unless they were just natural to earth?

Plus it's made apparent through Sandy's death in Rotg that spirits are not 100% immortal, just non-aging. I think there is an open window for spirits to come back like Sandy did, if an influx of enough people believe, Tinkerbell style. But after maybe a year or so, that window is closed, that spirit is full on dead and that spirit needs to be replaced to keep the world in balance. So there could've been hundreds of spirits that have been lost but then replaced by MiM. I also think only magic can kill spirits, since Jack managed to fall from like 300+ feet in the final battle and walk it off without so much as a limp. Like, it still hurt, he clearly felt the pain, but he could still run, jump, throw hands and everything. He only groaned like he tripped down a small set of stairs.

Guardians are the only ones who could die without belief due to the vow they take. I feel like that vow tying their lives to belief could've actively been like an insurance policy to insure that the Guardians stay true and keep doing their jobs to fulfill childhood. It may be controlling and borderline manipulative for MiM to make them do that but I'm sure we're all in agreement that he is pretty gray as a character in the movie when you really think about it. And I could even see where he's coming from with this idea. After all, who knows how many spirits he may have made thinking they were good people, only for them to go dark and become evil. I'm sure MiM would hold a lot of guilt whenever those bad spirits hurt others or even feel at fault for making these decent people, eventual villains. Besides the Guardians know they could die if they lose belief when they make the vow, so it's not like MiM tricked them, that's consented. The Guardians just forgot to tell Jack that.

Now, I always saw "Spirit Society" as all spirits know of each other and word always gets around when new ones are made. I don't think there's a hidden city or village (other than maybe Santoff Clausen if it's even still around. And only for some of them, it wouldn't be big enough for all spirits in my mind) but rather they make homes for themselves and just cross paths with each other all the time. Kinda like the countryside; everyone's homes are far apart, but you still see each other in stores or at work.

I'm not quite sure how the news and knowledge would spread between spirits so often unless they were either all huge gossips or had yearly meets or something. But you know what, I'd be willing to bet that there are a few "messenger" spirits similar to Hermes in Greek myth, that just fly everywhere, spreading word for other spirits to make sure everyone is in the loop.

In my mind, Bunny's aggression early in the movie was meant to kinda show how most spirits saw Jack. After all, he's the only one who didn't feel like he'd be super recluse due to his job as he's the only one who doesn't work all year-round.

Unless he's a complete hermit, what is he doing for the rest of the year other than going out and hanging with other spirits?

I think most spirits hate Jack for being a troublemaking spirit that honed the deadliest season. That could just be my angst fanfic brain making things up but why else would Jack be so desperate to look towards humans to connect with unless he has tried with other spirits who could see him and was only met with backlash?

'Cause I have seen a few people complain that the ending of the movie contradicted Jack's arc of wanting to be seen only to leave the few believers he'd finally made. But that was never the point. He has what I like to call a fake-out arc; where it's said he wants one thing but his actual goal is different. He asks why he can't be seen, he tries his best to get people to believe in him, but he's doing it in an effort to find a family.

He mentions how no one can see him but he's more devastated over why he was left alone. That's his main question in this scene. He doesn't outwardly ask why he's alone specifically, but asking MiM "why" just after he was looking so longingly at Jamie's family is clearly meant to insinuate that that is what he really wants. He may even be telling himself it's just to be seen because he's been alone for so long that he just wants the bare fucking minimum. That's why the end of Rotg is still satisfying despite leaving his new believers, because being seen was never truly the end goal, it was finding a family and he finally found that in the other Guardians.

He clearly believed that he couldn't be accepted by other spirits, so he looked to humans to find that connection and getting to be seen by them was just a first step towards that goal.

It's the same thing in Tangled (because I have encountered someone who thought Rapunzel was one-dimensional for just wanting to see lights 😮‍💨) Rapunzel sang and always told Gothel + Eugene that she just wanted to see the floating lights, but the moment she steps out of her tower she starts singing in exhilaration about how she can finally go running, dancing, jumping and splashing. She never even mentions the lights. It had nothing to really do with the lights, she just wanted to leave her tower and explore the world. Seeing the lanterns was just her externalized and internalized excuse because she wanted to feel less awful for going against her 'mother'. Her wanting to explore the world was then more blatantly explored in Tangled the Series.

Edit: Pitch even straight up mentions about longing for a family when trying to sympathize with Jack and it's that very line that makes Jack lower is guard. Not the line about not being believed in, longing for a family. Jack even looks super sympathetic for him.

After Pitch killed Sandy, after witnessing first hand the belief fading from all the kids around the world and being framed for Easter's failure, possibly ruining Jack's relationship with the Guardians, Jack still feels bad for Pitch in this moment. That's why Jack lets Pitch say his piece in this scene despite knowing that he was never going to join him (you can tell he was never buying into Pitch's words and Jack didn't hesitate to refuse). He was even willing to try and just walk away after refusing his offer rather than keep fighting. Because he understands that desperation of wanting to be loved by just being seen and/or heard.

That's part of what makes him such a good layered character: the fact that he always used mischief in an effort to try and be seen, similar to when kids act out to get their parents attention. It leads the other spirits to think that he's nothing more than a troublemaker (and even audience as well, the amount of mis-characterization I've seen people make of Jack, istg) when in reality he's actually a very respectful, emotional, sweet and even responsible person that does know when to stop being silly. Jack never played around when actual danger came around, the only time he did was a one quip to Sandy because he was nervous and in the final battle when he realized being funny takes away Pitch's control.

And even then it was brief, after the kids started turning the sand gold again, Jack went right back into serious battle mode.

Kinda shows how not really mischievous Jack truly is when it takes him so long to realize that being fun can weaken Pitch. Because he's not really a trickster, he doesn't even really pull many pranks, he's just playful. But he had been cranking that up to 11 for the past 300 years in an effort to be seen, he inadvertently kept deterring other spirits away, who may had already not liked him just for being an ice based spirit. After all, whenever Bunny wanted to take a stab at Jack it was either at his invisibility or for his ice. Granted that could just be because Bunny himself just doesn't like the cold or even strictly because Jack made that blizzard on Easter but then again, we never got to see that for ourselves. We don't know if Jack even did that on purpose or not.

Last note; I don't think any other spirits died to become spirits like Jack did. It's my personal headcanon that the reason Jack couldn't remember his past is because he's the only one who had actively died before MiM got the chance to turn him. Though for all we know there could be a few others who also forgot their pasts. If there are, Jack clearly never got the chance to ask.

The way this kinda diverged into a mini Jack Frost character analysis though 😅

[dalliancekay]

Crowley is not stupid, Aziraphale is not an idiot and other assorted thoughts

Or how nothing is black and white and my bullying home and religious trauma is a metaphor not a direct translation to what our immortals experience. And vice versa. -

I don't know what it's like to hang out on Earth since the beginning but I'm sure it is richer than we can imagine, than we could imagine.

Our two favourite, currently men shaped beings, are captured for our storytelling enjoyment when their time on the Blue Planet is about to be cut off.

One has been thrown out from their family home ages ago, we are not sure for what misdemeanour exactly, and is now working for a dumpy place where they don't mind inflicting pain if you misbehave nor do they care whether anything is fair. So, a mafia, basically. And our hero is tasked with collecting new additions to the unhappy family on top of that. He doesn't much care for it and seems to do the bare minimum only and/or collect victims who,ve already proven they belong there.

The other has been sent to the young planet to guard the indigenous humans and told something vague about an Ineffable Plan that will all work out when there's a War in a few thousand years, which 'our, the 'good' side will win and everyone will be happy. Just tell the humans to behave and if they don't kick up a fuss, we will welcome them here too.

And here is a vast, empty place, overly lit, with busy, lonely bees working and filing, and checking, making sure rules are in place and are followed as written and everything is ticking over; the higher ranks' punishments rare but swift. Everyone has learnt a lesson when half of them were unceremoniously fired when someone said some nasty things about the CEO. So things might not be perfect but at least if you stick to your tasks you will be left alone.

So, we meet demon Crowley, whose family threw him out as mentioned above and his job sucks and he hates it but it's not hard and his placement is rather a nice place so he does his best to not to lose the position. Sometimes he wonders what is the point of it all and that's when he runs into his adorable archenemy, the angel Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was sent to Earth and given a job, one that doesn't seem to quite work out (or does it?) as he follows his heart instead of the rules almost immediately but surprisingly is not punished for it by the CEO. So he spends his time helping the natives where he can, following orders he receives as far as he must and when he runs into his archenemy the demon Crowley, he feels a certain strange tingle and flutter in his heart at the sight of the rulebreaker.

They have done a fair job of it for 6 millennia. They avoid getting fired and even manage to take on each other's tasks to lighten up the load and the (pointlessly) random business trips (does anyone Up or Down there ever heard of geography?)

When we meet our heroes in present day-ish, they've been told the End of the World sequence has been triggered and life as they know it is about to end. 

How do they feel about this? Well. Our demon is appalled. He knew this was coming. But not really. It's just something to sort of work towards right? After all, the Earth has been developing rather nicely. The alcohol got better, the food for his Angel, the music got interesting, the clothes tighter... He's having a good time. Yes, he pushes his luck sometimes. Sleeps too long, gives in and saves someone instead of ruining them. He gets into all kinds of tangles to spend time with his crush. He is rash but he's not stupid. He knows what's at stake. But he is angry. And sometimes that's hard to contain. He does go too fast. But Aziraphale is always there to catch him. And if he can't, he waits and worries and is there when Crowley returns.

So about the angel? He knows he should dislike the demon. He knows he should follow his directives. He knows he should not meet or talk to Crowley. And what does he do? Gets himself arrested in his fanciest silks so they can have crepes when the world and humanity is bringing them down with their relentless hate towards each other. He puts on a magical performance when the demon fails to deliver some contraband liquor in the midst of the Blitz bombing to save his face.

And, now. Here's the funny bit. Our angel has gotten himself a part time job in the past few centuries. He's had a few before, but not quite like this. He has a place he loves now. A safe, cluttered place where a demon is welcome. It's not much like his original home. You could say... it's rather quite the opposite of it. In any case, he never really got on with his managers but tbf he likes his job. It makes the humans happy and he loves the humans and loves making them happy.

He also does not want the world to end. But his fam has always told him that that's the Plan. It was The Plan since before Earth was even formed and humans were just a design concept. Once this bit is over, an even better one will come along etc.

What is my point?

That neither Crowley or Aziraphale are wrong. Or right. Doing the correct thing. Or not. Me. You. We come from broken families, we have been friends and lovers with bad people, we have escaped religions, cults, home countries. Lies. Rules. Hate. We have fought for our love to be recognised as love.

Crowley and Aziraphale live in a world where Heaven and Hell are real. Where Satan rules over a smelly place with mould on the walls and God is engrossed in her sci fi novels and seems to have forgotten about Her Earth project.

You can't call Aziraphale an idiot for believing in God. She exists. Whether She has a plan is open to debate, sure. She seems to have claimed so at some point, but then, we all change don't we. Maybe She changed Her mind and forgot to tell the upper management. Maybe She thought She didn't need to spell out all the details to them and so in their zealousness, they want to kill Job's kids. Maybe She was vague on purpose much in the style of King Henry II and Thomas Beckett.. Anyway. Back to Aziraphale, our angel on Earth. He is kind, clever, anxious and in love. With humanity and with one particular demon. And in the millennia he holds his post, he changes. He slowly learns to trust himself more. Trust his judgment. Find 'technicalities to do what he prefers, not what he is told. It started with the sword and his giving away of it. He made a decision to protect Job's children. Risked Falling for it. Trusted the demon over his bosses.

Nobody noticed (or did they) how our two field agents fell in love (neither did they tbf) and how fiercely they guard the little secret they share.

So. Things happen. Plan A, War and Destruction, did not work out. The youngster they sent from Below decided he likes the new place and refused to ruin it. Both Aziraphale and Crowley learned things. They are still learning. The demon how to trust someone. The angel how to trust himself.

So what's next? The place Above is going to send their trusted agent. He followed the rules last time seamlessly. It did not quite work out but no problem, they'll send Him out again. With a rather more final arrangement.

In the meantime, the disgraced and rather troubling Earth agents have been lying low. Unsure of their places and overall safety, they went on with their lives as best as they could until the angel happened to help his former boss run away with his paramour from the other side and is visited by the Big Boss.

Big Boss wastes no time and suggests to our angel he should come back Upstairs and take the place of his disgraced superior. To use his skills. To be better looked after perhaps. New opportunities. To be close to the big upcoming decisions or - under a close watchful eye.

Aziraphale, not surprisingly, refuses. He does not want to put any of his 'skills' to any good causes but his own. But then. THEN. He is not so subtly made aware that his dangerous liaisons with the other side have been noted and their help in the latest Complication might not go unpunished if he's not careful.

And this job offer suddenly seems FAR more sinister than it did 15 minutes ago. Especially when it is handed over with a coffee (that he does not much like) from a place called Give Me Coffee Or Give me Death.

Our angel goes home to cautiously tell his demon about the trouble they are in and his world comes crashing down around him.

This post turned out to be completely different to what I originally wanted to write. Is there a point? You decide.

Aziraphale's decision makes complete sense to me, he loves the Earth, his home and Crowley over and above everything else. And he WILL fight for their safety. AND the humans in the process if he can. He's not going to Heaven to be a good little angel.

This is my very first Tumblr post. Way to go me etc. Please be kind.

[icantdothistodaybruh]

oh, are you familiar with the BoM side story? where arthur dreams of different characters in different fairy tales? i’ve become so! obsessed! with the snow queen versions of sebaciel. ciels outfit is so pretty on him!! but i love a ciel that left everything behind to stay with sebastian.. and sebastian, he’s been so lonely for so long that when he gets a pretty boy he can’t let him go. when someone tries to save him they not only get a “no” but get forcefully snow-blasted right out the door. they understand each other because no one sees the beauty in desolation like they do… so of course they stay isolated in a castle together.

there’s the panel where sebastian’s wrapping his coat around ciels whole body… sebastian acting so smugly to ciels rescuers… the line where ciel says he belongs to the devil… i could live here forever… please consider this cold angle of sebaciel

I AM! AND IT'S ONE OF MY FAVE EXTRAS OUT THERE!!

The implication that the whole dream was of Sebastian's doing (which he is very capable of judging by GWA) brings out such an interesting twist to it - we can see a glimpse of Sebastian's actual opinion on other characters! But I'm of course going to talk a little about Ciel solely for today hehe

I might be wrong since I only have ru and eng translation at hand, but the way Ciel talks about his heart being frozen and eye belonging to the devil makes me think of these acts as essentially same thing, especially given that he "adapted beautifully to the world of Ice" by Sebastian's words. I mean that his heart being frozen doesn't equal to death or inability to feel, but rather just that, adaptation and belonging.

Now I know it sounded far-fetched, but the reason It caught my attention in the first place was the mentioning of the heart at all. It's a dream made by Sebastian, the 'emotionless' and 'unfeeling' demon, with clear analogy to the contract built on power, revenge, and hunger for one's soul, or at least that is how it always was portrayed before. So why would his made up dream-Ciel suddenly bring a heart into equation?

You should've seen my face when I got to the chapter were Elizabeth escapes to rCiel. Call me delulu but it suddenly made so much sense when Sebastian started talking how "human hearts are mysterious, complex things" and "no matter if you are demon or god it is truly and utterly impossible to shackle another's heart." Before that I wouldn't even think he'd have any opinion on the matters of the heart, let alone it be a stated fact to him that he can't have it in a way he can own souls or bodies.

And so that man, in his made up dream, with a made up Ciel, made that Ciel say that not only his soul (eye) belongs to the devil, but heart too. Knowing for a fact it can't belong to him in reality. I'm speechless.

Also when I got your ask yesterday I thought I should make a fanart or a redraw of that scene, and once again, you should've seen my face when I found the page:

and if you don't know why I was so surprised I'll gladly explain with two more pics:

My head exploded.

Three pieces. Representing their change of masks and roles. Yet each is the same in it's core. And one of them is character's fantasy while other two his reality. I'm so done with this show.

...could it be that Arthur's dream made by Sebastian is yet another lie becoming truth?...

[animentality]

I've always harboured a mild dislike for x reader stuff. I never really held it against people because I don't have the time to antagonise them, but it was so upsetting when every time I opened the fandom tag and all I saw were posts and posts and posts of bland x reader stuff that clearly is ooc with no real substance to them at all. So many of the RP blogs seem the same way.

As someone who tries to make analysis posts and art for the same fandom, it is disheartening when I spend hours and hours on an analysis post about a character and it maybe hits 120 notes while an OOC x reader of the same character soars to the thousands. Maybe it's selfish of me to say but I say it anyway.

The fandom is full of youngsters and I never felt comfortable voicing my opinion for the same because it just felt wrong to tell kids to stop existing in communities. But the amount of times I've been put down for shipping characters with each other rather than myself is an honestly surprising number.

Um. I don't really know where I was going with this.

But your post definitely opened my eyes a little bit on even why I dislike x reader so much. It's sinking in a little bit. My hatred for OOC stuff seeps into this, I suppose. So I wanted to say that. Yeah. I agree with you.

Thank you for saying it.

Signed,

A fellow analyser / artist / fanfic writer lmao

— @lunarcloak

I get you, man.

I know self shippers have always existed.

I don't mind them. If that's how you enjoy the media, then fine.

However.

I just don't think that the sudden rise of self shippers over fan analysis and shipping is a good sign.

I think it comes from a lack of media literacy and willingness to actually engage with a piece of fiction. At least shippers and fan analysts actually talk about the world and plot itself.

self shippers imagine themselves dating a character in an au that is completely disconnected from the story, and acting in a way that's not even close to how they are in canon.

which to me is like... you have a creative writing prompt but it's not a story you're actually engaging with. someone showed you a picture of a handsome man and said write a story about how he'd kiss you.

and it's like... ok. there's no crime in just being horny, but... when that's all a fandom is... I don't consider it a fandom, it's just a masturbation fantasy.

I thought the whole point of fiction was to dive into the human experience and try and understand ourselves better. See the perspectives of others. Live vicariously in another person's shoes.

Fan analysis about themes? Perfect. You're thinking. You're feeling. You're articulating. You're growing as a person as you decide what you like or don't like, or try to put together puzzle pieces so that the whole picture makes sense. Shipping? You're imagining scenarios. You're bending canon to fit your interests. You are developing your own ability to write characters, and growing as an artist and a writer.

But self shipping...?

Eh.

You're writing, I guess, but when you reduce yourself to just... idk, some generic girl that Gojo decides is the Bella to his Edward... I mean I'm glad you're happy and all.

But how happy are you

Are you happy at all, or are you frustrated by this aching loneliness deep in your gut that you just don't understand, and it never quite feels whole bc you keep cramming nothing into it.

And it's not the loneliness or the social awkwardness that I'm criticizing here ok, shippers and fan analysts can be just as lonely. I just think that the human relationship to art should be confusion and appreciation.

you should be trying to understand others or yourself.

you can insist well what's so wrong with escapism? why does everything have to be an intellectual exercise?

it doesn't have to be ... but there's a reason people feel so hollow watching marvel movies.

art without substance is consumption. it's a distraction from your own humanity, it is not anything more.

not to you, anyway.

and I don't know.

that's really sad.

I've made so many friends through ships and babbling about canon and gushing about narrative beats.

I feel like I got something out of fandom, if other people force me to see the world in another light. I feel like a story has done its job if it's made me feel something. and it's really done a great job if I feel invested enough to hope two characters smooch.

but self insert?

eh. so you just like the character and think they're hot. that's fine.

not that interesting to talk about either. requires very little analysis on your part.

they just provoke sexual feelings or romantic feelings , which are easiest for you to process, and then you can move on to the next pretty boy you can turn into a Dom.

it irks me, man.

just a tad bit.

[michaelmilligan]

The Jonmartin manifesto no one asked for but needed to get out

So, I've not been in the tma fandom for long yet, having only listened to it for the first time a few months ago. But from browsing the Jonmartin (and teaholding and jmart) tag regularly, it seems to me like most jonmartin shippers fall into one of these two categories:

They would find each other in every universe; or

It's a miracle they even got together in this universe

(Obviously, that's an oversimplification, and people who express one view in one post can easily hold a different view at another time - these are fictional characters we're talking about after all, and headcanons don't need to be consistent and can even contradict each other. This is just the general vibe I got so far.)

Anyway, I wanted to add my own two cents on the topic, because while I understand where both of these views are coming from, I think neither of them is ultimately correct.

(Putting the rest under a read more - be warned that this is NOT a spoiler-free post, so if you haven't finished listening to TMA yet and you want a spoiler-free experience, you probably shouldn't read this.)

So, before we get to my own opinion, let's first look at where the two options I mentioned above come from, shall we?

"They would find each other in every universe"

Obviously, this view is highly romantic - star-crossed lovers, finding each other again and again. It is both a good foundational basis for AUs, and a ray of hope in the face of the tragedy that is the tma finale.

Of course, concerning the finale, this is a rather different take than concerning AUs (since it would mean the very same characters finding each other again in a different world, not fundamentally different characters, shaped by said other world, also finding each other). And maybe when people express this view, they mean more the finale fix-its than AUs, though I suspect that plenty of people mean both.

It's a nice, comforting thought. And don't we all need some comfort after the finale? Yes, we certainly do. (Except for the people who read only hurt without comfort and angst, I guess. You do you, and I'm glad you're having fun, but personally I do desperately need some comfort, lmao.)

Is this view supported by canon though?

Cynical minds would say no, and personally I'm more inclined to agree with them, though as I've said, for me the truth lies outside of those two rigid stances (somewhere in between, I suppose).

I don't see much in canon which points to Jon and Martin falling in love under any circumstances/in any universe, especially considering their... let's say difficult relationships at the start of the show. But of course we must also take into account the specific circumstances in canon (more on that below) and interpretations vary, and I do very much enjoy AUs, so I'm certainly not trying to throw shade if you're on this side of the 'divide'.

Mostly, I think there CAN be other circumstances in which those two get together, outside the canon ones. (I'm writing a canon-divergent jonmartin fic myself, lol.) Let's get into that while we look at the other view, shall we.

"It's a miracle they even got together in this one"

Ah, the Martin-approved stance. One could say 'well, they literally said it in canon' and be done with it. However, that would require us to believe that the opinions of the characters are always true and correct, which. Lmao. We only have to listen to season 2 of tma to know that this is very much not the case.

And even if S5 Martin is not S2 Jon at the height of his paranoia, he's still very much a man shaped by his own life and experiences. I'm sure he would call himself a realist, but he honestly seems more like a pessimist to me. Which is understandable, given his life, and his association with the Lonely, which has often been (in my opinion accurately) compared to depression.

The thing is, Jon did treat Martin horribly in S1, and then he admittedly treated everyone horribly in S2. It was only in the course of S3 that their relationship got more, let's say, equal, with Jon no longer thinking Martin would be 'contributing nothing but delays'. (And then of course we have S4, which I LOVE even though it hurts me deeply. Then again, that's the whole show. And, obviously, S5 my beloved.)

So. Jon seemed to hate Martin in S1, while Martin was arguably already in love with the man. (Arguably. We do know that he acted catty to Basira in S2, so it's reasonable to assume that he started liking him at some point in S1, or even before the show started.) Then a lot of traumatic things happened, and they got together.

This means it must be the traumatic things that made them compatible, right? Just like Martin says in S5?

Well, one could see it that way. Jon certainly changed over the seasons, coming off his high horse and such. (In S5, he arguably gets back on it quite a bit, but then he IS the Eye's specialest little princess in a world that's literally ruled by it. And also he is slowly losing his grip on his own humanity. But I digress.)

And I do think that the trauma channeled a lot of those changes - the first time we see Jon being actually emotionally open (something he still struggles with over all seasons, because people don't just change fundamentally that quickly) is during Prentiss' attack on the Institute. They're in a situation where they might reasonably die (they even expect it, because they don't know that Elias is just rubbing his greedy little paws as he waits for things to get worse before he saves them with the gas).

I do think that moment could have been a big turning point for Jon and Martin, if it hadn't been immediately followed with the discovery of Gertrude's body, and Jon's subsequent descent into paranoia. Jon opened up, and also saw that Martin was rather competent during the attack, which could have led to them becoming closer, respectively having at least something like a normal work relationship.

But then Jon got paranoid and interpreted everything he saw negatively, including Martin's competence, which was twisted in his mind to 'What if he's just been pretending to be incompetent and is actually an evil agent out to kill the archivist'.

(Big sigh.)

Anyway, before I lose myself in the red string as well: Yes, Jon seems to 'mellow' over the seasons, especially with regard to Martin, at the same time that he's going through terribly traumatic events.

But does that mean that it's actually the trauma that's changing him and his relationships? Partly, certainly, but I would argue that trauma doesn't make you nicer or kinder. It might make you realise some things, but that doesn't mean that you can't realise those things in other ways.

And does it means that they couldn't have come together if they had met under different circumstances? Also not necessarily! I would even argue that the specific circumstances they met under were detrimental to Jon's first impression of Martin. And yes, this goes beyond the dog story.

So let's try and dissect their relationship from the start.

A theory of... something like nuance, or whatever

The starting situation

(Yes, I did have to use a Supernatural gif, thank you for asking. No, I will not apologise. <3)

Alright. So let's start with what we actually know about Jon and Martin's first meeting. Obviously, there's the dog story, though as far as I know that's not 'canon' because it wasn't actually in the podcast. I still like it, and think it adds another reason to Jon's behaviour, though I don't necessarily think it's necessary, because Jon already had lots of other reasons to tell himself that Martin wasn't worth his time.

1.1. Jon has issues. More at 11.

First of all, we learn throughout the podcast that Jon doesn't actually have any qualifications to lead an archive. He's probably 29 when the show starts (in 2016, going by the fandom wiki stating that he was born in 1987, which is reasonable given everything we learn about his age).

So, he's 29 and suddenly appointed, after four years of working in one department, to become the head of a completely different department. He does not have a degree that would give him credentials for leading an archive, nor are we told that he has ever even worked in an archive. For all we know, and that he knows, he is woefully underqualified. (This is also, I think, highlighted in S2 when Jon threatens to resign, only to then be baffled by Elias saying that he would be difficult to replace. Elias means something completely different than his skill set as an archivist with a lower case 'a', presumably, but then Jon doesn't know that.)

This means that Jon is in a highly stressful position, because he's trying to do a job he doesn't actually know how to do, while also trying not to let on that he doesn't know how to do it!

It doesn't help that Jon is also terribly scared of what all might be lurking in the shadows (or even in the light), as he himself admits during the Prentiss attack. He is extremely high-strung from day one, basically a wet chihuahua shaking in a slight breeze, while trying to seem like a strong bulldog.

We also know that Jon asked for two people to be his assistants: Tim and Sasha. They both worked in research, and Sasha also briefly worked in artefact storage, making them both qualified to help Jon with following up on statements. But I think more than their qualifications, Jon probably requested them because he knew and got along with them.

Imagine: Your boss tells you that he's promoting you into a position you're not qualified for and which you have no real clue how to do. Wouldn't you rather have people around you who you're already friendly with, and who are likely to cut you some slack if you're not perfect on day one? I know I would!

1.2. Elias is a little shit and I want to kill him with hammers (affectionately)

And then Elias transfers Martin.

I'm going off the dog story again, because again, I like it, and I think it does fit neatly into canon. If this story is to be believed, Elias neither asked nor did he tell Jon that he was giving him another assistant. He apparently simply told Martin 'you work at the archives now, congratulations' and then went back to his office to smile smugly to himself.

This is a VERY bad start for a working relationship, because not only does Martin come in unannounced, this also comes off as Elias not respecting Jon, or potentially even sending someone to report back to Elias (because Martin is the only one who doesn't have an established rapport with Jon).

Jon never verbalises this suspicion, so maybe this is too much interpretation on my part, but in any case it's cause for a lot of resentment on Jon's part, and since he can't exactly let it out on Elias (who is rarely there, anyway), he simply lets it out on Martin.

He finds reasons to do so, of course, insulting his work and all that. It's probably easy, especially in the beginning, because not unlike Jon, Martin doesn't have any qualifications to work in an archive! He worked at the library before, and we know that his degree is made up (which we can only assume Elias knows, considering he can know almost anything).

(I actually find the question on why Elias transferred Martin in the first place extremely interesting, and might get into that in another post. But this one is already too long, lmao.)

1.3. Martin is too nice, aka Jon has even more issues

This is mostly my personal headcanon, though I do feel it fits Jon's character - which is that he doesn't know how to deal with nice people.

Not kind people. Not friendly people. But nice people.

People who do things seemingly out of the mere goodness of their heart. Like bringing their mean boss tea when he never asked them to do that. Like being friendly even in the face of insults. Someone who constantly takes himself back in favour of other people and their opinions.

People like Martin is appearing to be. Appearing, because Martin isn't actually like that. He does have his opinions, and he could probably grumble up a storm in S1 about Jon, but Jon is his BOSS, and so he plays.

Martin also IS genuinely a nice person most of the time (when he's not on a revenge rampage, making his boyfriend murder people). He doesn't have to do nice things for Jon like bring him tea in S2. But he does. Because that's Martin's way of trying to reach out, to show other people that he means no harm (and that he can be useful).

(I also think that Jon's snappish behaviour, where Martin never quite knows what will set the man off, might remind him off his mum, but again I digress. :))

But I think Jon doesn't know how to deal with that, because even when he's not in the height of paranoia, he still suspects that people who are THAT nice (especially when they have no reason to be nice because he's being an arsehole to them) have a secret agenda. This is playing into what I said under 2 (the part that might be too much interpretation on my side lol), because if Jon suspects that Martin is reporting back to Elias, or is at least someone who would not be friendly if he found out that Jon doesn't know what he's doing, then he can't allow himself to relax around him, and he certainly can't allow himself to be lulled into false security (as Jon would think) around him.

Tl;dr on this point: I think Jon is wary of Martin's niceness because he thinks he might be fishing for gossip/anything he can use against Jon. And even if he isn't, Jon thinks he would be likely to use anything he learns against Jon, because they weren't friends to begin with, and Jon's behaviour has made them anything but that.

(We have to remember that this is the guy who says in S2 that he knows what it's like to 'lack the respect of one's peers', aka the kid who got bullied by at least one older kid, and likely had no or very few friends - plus he believes in the supernatural, which doesn't exactly lend itself well to getting academic respect.)

1.4. They were fucked from the start, your honour

Basically what the meme says, but yeah. The they were put in practically guaranteed that Jon would be wary of Martin, and that Martin would be trying extra hard to make friends with him, which in turn would make Jon even more wary/hostile.

And Elias made it worse, either knowingly or by negligence (not telling Jon about transferring Martin).

If we add the whole dog story to it... they were fucked. I do actually wonder if, assuming we take the dog story as canon, Elias actually somehow managed to set that up. Or whether he was at least cackling (sorry, smiling ever so silently, but smugly) in his office as it happened, or whenever he ended up knowing that it happened.

2. Yes, we've had one starting point, but what about second starting point?

As we have established above, the starting situation for Jon and Martin was... not ideal. So, would they have gotten together easily given a different starting point, like in a cute coffee shop AU?

Eh.

It's true that the specific situation they were in made it a lot harder for them to actually communicate and see each other as they are than it had to be. That doesn't mean that a different situation would have made it easy, though.

Their personalities still make it hard, though, as even without the added stress of a new job, Jon is still a little chihuahua shaking in the corner, who tries to make up for it by barking at everyone, and Martin is still the guy trying to approach him with treats and getting his hand bitten.

There are certainly specific situation that could make it easier, especially if Jon isn't scared as hell, and has maybe already learned that not everyone who does something nice for him wants to just pull on his strings. (Yes, I do think that the thing that makes Martin, according to Annabelle, suited for the Web, is the thing that put Jon on edge at the beginning. I don't know if this was intended at all, but it makes me cackle.)

The beauty of fanfic is that we can do whatever the hell we want. But I think the most fun thing an AU author can do is think 'What would have to happen, in this specific scenario, for these two to get over themselves and get together?'

Excursion: Martin, my beloved depressed blorbo who I am certainly not projecting on, haha

Because it IS both of them who need to get over themselves. Of course Jon's issues are the most obvious, and I've certainly expanded on them enough. But Martin also has a problem, and it's that he's constantly hiding his true feelings and opinions, especially anger and fear.

That makes sense, perhaps, in a workplace, though considering he's dealing with a walking, talking worm hive and a stalker boss... Let's just say it probably would have helped Tim, too, if Martin hadn't been so desperate to make everyone be friends again.

Because Martin is always TRYING to make everything better for everyone, but he's actually not helping anyone. Being nice to Jon and bringing him tea doesn't help battle his paranoia. And trying to tell Tim not to be so angry at Jon, and can't they all be friends, doesn't actually help Tim with his anger.

All Martin is essentially doing is making himself small and saying 'let's get along, pretty please' every now and then. I don't know if it would have helped if he had expressed his own fears and anger, and maybe Jon would have misconstrued that as well, too deep in his paranoia already. But at least Tim might have realised that he was not alone in all this. (His biggest problem, as he says in S2, is that he feels that no one has his back, which I think at least partly results from no one expressing the same anger, aka no one validating his feelings.)

Anyway! (Jon voice) Excursion ends.

3. (To the melody of 'What shall we do with the drunken sailor') What shall we do with these total idiots?

So, how ARE these two going to get together, if they're so woefully unequipped to deal with each other?

Well, first we need to give Martin a good helping of self-confidence. Then we need to kind of give Jon the same, since his problem ALSO is that he's unsure of himself, he just tries to make other people small to cover it up, instead of making himself small. (And isn't that a funny thing to do for someone who we know was bullied. To become a bully himself. Oh, the snake, biting its own tail...)

The easy answer is, of course: You can come up with your own version, get creative. <3

The more complex answer is: A lot of stuff, probably. Jon and Martin will certainly need time to get to know each other, and of course it depends on what situation you put them in to start. But there will be misunderstandings, and there will be hurt feelings, and I am going to soak it up all like a particularly slowburn-greedy sponge.

I feel like there are probably five million ways to get them together, and some might be cute and fluffy (if they go to therapy first, I guess, lol) and many will be full of tears. <3 (Jon voice) And I want to see them all on my desk by Friday! So get to it!

In all seriousness though, yeah, I think there's not one right way for them to get together (though canon did it well imo). But it's also a little more complex than we might give it credit to (very much including me).

4. So what now?

I don't know. I'm not your dad. Write a fic. Draw a picture. Put down your own thoughts on the matter. Or take a shower and clean up your room, young Padawan!

(Though actually, if you've read this post from start to finish in one session, what you should probably do is get up and stretch and get some water.)

And above all! And this is imperative.

Have a good day. <3

[the-peak-tmnt]

I want to say that I like that your fic is mostly Raph centric because those fics are rare and he deserves more love and pain lol

Raph: Mom says it's my turn with the trauma

Thank you so much! I'm seriously so grateful for people who are willing to give a Raph-centric fic a shot!

I knew writing Raph-centric fic that's also a Mutant Mayhem fic was gonna turn a lot of people off from giving it a try, which I totally understand because I usually go for Leo-centric fics myself lol. It also doesn't help that Mutant Mayhem still isn't super popular.

But Mutant Mayhem Raph is an exciting new version of Raph that's been SO fun to explore, and I'm gonna go on a little rant about why I'm enjoying writing (and torturing) him so much!

[Initiating Raph Rant] So, almost all Raphs are tough guys who also wear their hearts on their sleeves, which is what makes him such a fun character. He's "the angry one", but usually also super emotional in other ways:

Because MM feels more like an actual teenager than most other iterations, his moments of emotional vulnerability feel particularly raw and relatable. I might be old as dirt now, but I do still remember what it was like to be a teenager still trying to figure out who they were and what they wanted in life.

Mutant Mayhem does such an amazing job of hitting on those teenage insecurities and desires. The turtles whole goal in the movie is to be accepted. All teenagers feel like outsiders and want acceptance at some point. That teenage desire for acceptance is amplified for the turtles because they're not just teenagers, but mutants as well. The moment where Raph's voice sort of wavers as he says "we're never gonna be normal" breaks my heart every time, because they're so sure acceptance is completely out of reach for them 😭

...but the MM boys do get acceptance by the human world by the end of the film. Raph even seems to find his place own at Eastman on the wrestling team in the post-credit scene.

I think this is what has turned a lot of fans off MM, though, because the turtles' need for secrecy and using their ninja skills to remain hidden has always been an integral part of the TMNT franchise. Personally, I actually love that departure from the typical TMNT format and talked about it once before.

But there are some traditional TMNT elements that I did miss in MM, one of those being the fact that in most iterations, Raph is an outsider even amongst outsiders. His anger is what alienates him from his brothers at times, and it often gets him into trouble. It’s also what almost always leads to his friendship with Casey (another outsider).

Tales of the TMNT isn't out yet, and we don't how this series will give Raph that traditional outsider treatment, or if it will at all. They could save it for Mutant Mayhem 2, but that's still years away. And even then they might decide not to go that route because so far, MM Raph's rage has mostly just manifested in a propensity for fighting & violence rather than interpersonal issues with his brothers & other people. His rage is even framed as useful in the final fight against Superfly.

So anyway...as canon stands right now pre-tottmnt/MM 2, Raph is an "insider". He and his brothers can have a life on the surface, and Raph even seems to have found his own place at Eastman on the wrestling team. Again, I'm all for this happy ending and a brand new experience for the turtles, but I was also missing my personal favorite flavor of Raph...which is angry and alienated lol.

After I saw MM in theaters, I started looking at a lot of the concept art and other production material floating around on the internet and I came across this concept art by Garrett Lee:

And it was like "oh shit, there he is! Outsider Raph!"

He looks so lonely and separate from everyone else here, and I was obsessed with this idea of Raph somehow still being an outsider even after the mutants were accepted by humans. But again, we're still waiting for tottmnt and MM 2, and even then there's no guarantee we'll get an Angry & Sad Outsider Raph out of either of those.

So I asked myself "how can I ruin MM Raph's life so that he's as lonely and miserable as he looks in this concept art???"

...and Reciprocity was born 😅

[sonsofwu]

Aching Beyond the Veil

[Garmadon's POV. Between seasons 4 and 5. To Lloyd.]

My dear child.

You must be convinced that I am long gone by now. That I have… forgotten about you. Well, it couldn't be further from the truth. There hasn't been a day when I wouldn't think of you, or watch you, to the best of my abilities.

But, the veil between the spirit realm and the world of the living is thick and, I fear, impenetrable.

I cannot see you clearly, my child, though I still do catch glimpses of your daily life. Of how you brave the challenges of being a leader and how your power grows day by day… I am so, so proud of you. I really do wish I was there to express it in person. Or to help you, whenever you feel down or insecure… But I suppose it is no longer my role to fulfill.

Yet, you still haven't quite given up on me, have you? I know you visit my statue from time to time. I hope it brings you at least a semblance of comfort. I would very much rather you could simply talk to me in person, or just ask for a hug if that is what you need. I am so sorry the stone tomb you're visiting cannot provide you with any warmth. It cannot smile at you or wipe your tears away… First Master, how I hate seeing you cry.

I think that is the worst part. The separation. I know one day you'll hopefully join me here, in the spirit realm, but right now… that moment seems so far away. Don't get me wrong, I do wish you a long, fulfilling life before that happens. I hope that at one point you will get over your despair and, once again, be happy… I really, really want you to be happy. Even though I know I can't help you achieve that happiness anymore. Contrarily, I am the sole source of your sorrow. But I sincerely hope that, when you're ready, you will find comfort and wisdom in my teachings. That they will help you get through your grief.

There hasn't been a day when I wouldn't miss you too, my child. When I wouldn't yearn to hold you or just hear you talk about your day. It does get lonely here, in the realm of ghosts…

Oh, how I mourn the fact these words will never reach you. I can see you right now, your silhouette blurred out by the veil, yet, to me, still perfectly recognizable. You're by the statue, seeking comfort that I sadly can offer no more. Although, I admire the stubbornness with which you keep coming back. At the very least… we can close our eyes and imagine we are close. Not worlds apart, but right there, holding one another, just like we used to… First Master, if only we had had more chances to do so…

Oh well. No point in regretting it now, is there? We cannot turn back time, no matter how much we blame ourselves.

Nonetheless, I need to say it: I love you, my child. Not just in a past tense, as a memory, but now, and always, with my entire spirit. And as long as my soul exists, it will hold this affection for you. You are my entire world.

My whole world… that is aching beyond the veil.

[bluehourbucky]

Vampire!bucky x innocent!reader. We have a mighty need

Strawberry juice

pairing: vampire!bucky x innocent!reader

warnings: blood / blood sucking / kidnapping/ dark!bucky / non-con use of body for buckys orgasm / release in pants

a/n:I hope you enjoy I tried my best! I'm still new to writing smut and I'm still learning please be nice 🥹 I also wasn't sure if you wanted this to be a dark fic 😅

18+ only

minors do not interact

this is a dark fic if you're not into that please do not read!!!

masterlist / bucky / part 2

/_________________________________________/

You've been working at this coffee shop near your place for 6 months, and you've been loving it. The people are always so nice to you even when you make a mistake, which was so surprising as people used to yell at you at the place you worked before. To be fair, the coffee shops' uniforms were little maid outfits that leave very little to imagination, but to you it never clicked that everyone was nice because of that.

And even the tips were amazing.

You loved your job, it was really fun to talk to people all day and receive compliments, you've never heard so many compliments in your whole life!

The regular customers always left big tips even when you spilled something on them! You'd be apologising, then helping them clean up the mess and you'd feel so bad, but they would just reply with a smile and give you double the price of the coffee you'd spilled. When you tried to deny the tip they'd just put it in the pocket of your outfit.

Recently, a new customer started coming, and he was very pretty. You've started to wait for him to show up all day, you even changed shifts since he usually comes an hour before closing.

The man usually sits in the far back corner of the shop, he sits in a place that has the best view of the whole place. He never finishes his tea or coffee just sits there and reads.

You thought he looked lonely and you've really wanted to start a conversation with him, but the opportunity never rose until now.

The place was empty, only you and the man are left, you've got another half an hour before closing and you've already done everything. So you gather the courage to go talk to him. Maybe you want him to pay attention to you because he's the only one who doesn't, and you're not used to being ignored and not called pretty.

"Hi."

your heart stops when the man looks straight into your eyes, the intense blue of his eyes making your legs shake.

"Hi? Is there a problem, you're still open right?"

you try so hard to break the eye contact but something won't let you, it's like you're stuck.

"Oh there's no problem just wanted to ask if everything was okay?" you feel out of breath by the time you finish your sentence.

"Oh, everything is great. Don't worry about me, but if I could ask for your company just for a few minutes?"

You can't deny a lonely man, he just needed a friend you were right! So you smile and sit across from him.

"What are you reading?"

And that's how you two started hanging out every evening. He'd read his book and you'd ask questions, sometimes you would get lost in your own world by talking about your day or the flowers you saw in the flowershop and he wouldn't even get to say anything.

You'd try to apologise but he'd always say that he enjoyed listening to you.

Bucky is a patient man, he'd like to think he is but he was getting impatient and hungry. He'd been watching you since the first day you've started working at the coffee shop. The sweet smell of you had brought him to the place. He'd never been fond of coffee even when he was able drink it.

Usually, when he smelled the delicious food, he'd eat it as soon as possible, but with you, he decided he'd rather play. Steve always told him not to play with food, but you were just irresistible.

About a month ago, you finally talked to him and just never stopped. He'd started to wait for you to close up since there's a lot of creepy men around, he would know.

But he was getting very hungry, he's spent too much time with you that he'd forgotten to eat and that's all he could ever think about when he was with you.

Bucky is ready to have the most delicious meal of his not life.

"I'm ready!"

He turns and smiles at you, he said he'd wait for you to finish and walk you all the way home, you thanked him over and over.

"Thank you so much! I get really scared when I'm walking alone." you say as you lock the door and check twice if you did it properly.

You grab his arm and walk with him happily, you don't even notice he'd lead you to an alleyway.

"Whe-"

Bucky pushes you against the brick wall his hand on the back of your head, he can't let any blood go to waste. The whole reason he's here with you in the first place. He tasted the rarest blood type and he'd tasted virgin blood too, but never two in one, he knows he's about to have the tastiest meal.

His nose runs up and down your neck, pressing it to the most prominent vein.

"You smell so good pretty girl."

you giggle when his stubble tickles your neck.

"It's my favorite strawberry perfume." you say and Bucky laughs.

"Is that so?"

"Yes I love strawberry!"

Oh that's precious, Bucky thinks, you have so much in common with strawberries, both are sweet and when you bite into them red juice comes out.

"Well, strawberries are my favourite too, you're my favourite one."

You blush and put your hands on Buckys shoulders, he's caged you between him and the wall.

"You're not scared little one?"

"Why would I be scared, that's silly we're friends!"

Bucky smirks.

"That's right we are friends. You're gonna be a good girl for me." It's not a question it's a statement.

"You're poking me." you try to push him off you a little. Bucky might have gotten too excited to have you for himself. His buldge was indeed pressed against your stomach.

"Is that so?" He mocks and rolls his hips which grants him access to your tongue when you whined and opened your mouth. He forces his tongue into your mouth and starts kissing you. Nothing about the kiss is gentle but he's enjoying it, your lip starts to bleed when his fangs cut it. He sucks on it and moans at the taste.

Oh the taste is just incredible and Bucky decides that he will keep you. He won't drain you he'll just take you home and snack on you whenever he feels like it.

"Stop, please." you cry out but Bucky is too strong and you can't even move an inch.

"Don't worry, sweet girl I won't kill you you're safe with me."

He grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him, he wasn't planning to hypnotise you to obey him but he didn't really want you to become fussy, that would be a disaster..... imagine if any drop of your precious blood spilled - not allowed.

"Okay."

"Good girl."

Bucky picks you up completely off the floor, putting your legs around his waist so his croch is exactly on your clothed pussy. Instead of biting your neck he picks up your arm and bites into your forearm.

The taste overwhelmed him, it's so intense like nothing he'd ever tasted before - humans would probably describe it as biting into a lava chocolate cake when all the filling just drips out.

Bucky feeds off of you slowly, but his thrusts are fast and unreserved, and the moment he stops sucking you, Bucky releases his load into his pants and rides out his orgasm.

"See, little one I just took a little."

Bucky caresses your cheek and your eyes are barely open, you're on the verge of passing out.

"Mhm." you whimper when Bucky let's you down for a second before picking you up again, princess style, he sets your head on his shoulder and you instantly fall asleep.

"Master, I told you not to play with your food."

Steve, Buckys familiar and friend says from the beginning of the alleyway.

"I know, I'm taking this one with me couldn't take all of it at once, she filled me up with just a few drops." Bucky says feeling surprisingly very full after taking maybe 200ml and usually he needs a lot more.

"I'll see you at home!"

Bucky says before flying away.

Steve curses under his breath he always needs to walk.

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and look around, your eyes take bit to get used to the dark around you.

"I see you're awake, precious."

"Where am I?"

"Your new home of course!"

_________________________________________

[THE END]

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Love in the Dark: Chapter Nine

Love in the Dark: You discover an intense connection with a dream lover, yearning for a love beyond physical appearances. As your encounters blur the lines between the waking world and the Dreaming, your grapple with the complexities of desire, friendship, and mortality. Can you truly love in the dark?

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x NAMEDFem!Reader.

Word Count: ~6.6k

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The warmth of the palace sitting room envelops you, the familiar scent of old books and tea a comforting presence you’ve long since come to adore. You settle into one of the plush armchairs, your body sinking into the soft cushions as Fēlix busies himself with the tea.

"You've been spending quite some time in the waking world," Fēlix comments, pouring a cup of steaming tea for you. His eyes are curious, almost mischievous as they meet yours.

"I'm from there, remember?" You point out with a small chuckle. Fēlix pouts.

"Well I know that," he says with a tone of 'duh' in his voice. "But you clearly enjoy being in the Dreaming more. So why don't you tell me more about what you've been up to that I am not already aware of."

"I went on a date." You state softly, your eyes flickering to one of the windows to enjoy the view. Fēlix's eyes grow wide as saucers and the cardinal compass on his chest glows with excitement.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Fēlix leans forward, eyes glimmering with curiosity. "How was it?"

"Disastrous," you admit, setting your cup down with a sigh. "He ordered everything for me, talked about himself non-stop. When I made it clear it wasn't going to work, he blew up. Called me all sorts of names."

Fēlix's eyes widen in shock. "No! What a cad. How did you manage to sit through the entire evening?"

"I didn't," you say, leaning back into the chair. "I left before dessert arrived and a nice sense of accomplishment after I dumped my wine on his head. Waste of a surprisingly good vino but I was at my wits end listening to him insult me and women in general."

Fēlix's face distorts into a grimace as if he's just tasted something sour. "Sounds like a complete nightmare," he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "I know actual nightmares that would grovel at the feet of any woman they find remotely attractive. I mean, how dare he? Ordering everything for you as if you're incapable of deciding for yourself and a salad? That's like mean girl's dating manual for men, bad."

You snort your next sip of tea and it burns in your nose as you cough, but that doesn't stop Fēlix from continuing his tirade.

"And don't get me started on his ego," he continues, clearly on a roll. "Sounds like he's got enough hot air to inflate a parade float and then some. I'd rather listen to Matthew crow about his shiny feathers all day than endure a dinner with such a boor."

You chuckle, feeling lighter at Fēlix's animated ranting. He always knows how to lighten the mood, one of the many things you appreciate about him.

"So what did you do after your grand exit?" Fēlix asks, looking at you expectantly. His gaze is soft and understanding, like he already knows you've had a tough time.

"I went home," you admit, the memory of your lonely apartment filling your mind. "I didn't even bother with a glass." You add, recalling the cool touch of the wine bottle against your lips. "Drank the entire bottle."

"Gods, babe," Fēlix winced, knowing when you went that far it had to be bad. "Tell me your dream man rescued you that night."

"He was... agitated," you start, trying to find the right words to describe his reaction. "When I came back to the Dreaming that night, he snuck up on me and made some accusations… which weren't entirely false."

Fēlix leans forward, hanging on your every word to a point that even his floating hair was standing on end in anticipation. You take a deep breath and continue.

"He asked me if I really sought out love from someone else," you explain, feeling a familiar ache in your chest. "He sounded hurt, almost betrayed. Also somewhat pissed." You take a deep breath, feeling your chest tighten with the memory. "I reminded him of what he'd said to me about not belonging in the Dreaming."

Fēlix's eyes are soft with understanding as he reaches across the table, offering his hand for you to take. You do, squeezing it lightly as you continue.

"I told him that no one has made me feel the way he does," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "That he's the only one who makes me happy."

"And?" Fēlix prompts gently, his grip on your hand firm and reassuring.

"He... he apologized," you say, the memory bringing a soft smile to your lips. "He told me he only meant that he didn't want me to miss out on opportunities in the real world. That he wants me to be happy, wherever I am."

"And?" Fēlix prompted yet again, perched on the edge of his seat.

"And then we had smoking hot make up sex right after I greedily sucked his cock." You tell him with a frank expression on your face. Like Fēlix expects any other result after an argument between you and your dream man? As you sit there in the plush armchair, Fēlix's infectious laughter fills the room, bouncing off the tall bookshelves and high ceiling. His eyes twinkle with mirth, and you can't help but join in, his laughter contagious. The sound of your combined laughter echoes in the sitting room, filling it with a sense of warmth opposed to the almost somber atmosphere it had started with.

"You really know how to live your best life in the Dreaming, don't you?" Fēlix chuckles, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I must say, I never thought I'd see the day when a human would be the one teaching me about drama."

Your cheeks flush with warmth at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could be of service," you respond playfully. "Just don't go spreading my sexcapade tales around the Dreaming."

"Your secret's safe with me," he assures you with a wink.

Walking alongside Fēlix and his nymph girlfriend, Petunia, the halls of the palace echo with their light-hearted chatter, a stark contrast to the usual somber atmosphere. Petunia's lilting laughter fills the air, her hand resting lightly on Fēlix's arm. Every now and then, she glances up at him with such adoration that it makes your heart swell. Fēlix looks at her with a softness in his eyes that you rarely see, a stark contrast to his usual mischief, and it’s like witnessing a different side of him—one that feels almost sacred.

You feel a happy warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of them, a happiness that seeps into your very bones. It’s infectious, soothing the edges of your own worries and making you forget your own troubles. The way they move in harmony, effortlessly attuned to each other, fills you with a sense of peace. For a moment, you allow yourself to be swept away by their infectious happiness, letting it envelop you like a cozy blanket against the chill of your uncertainties.

"You look like you've got something on your mind," Petunia says, her voice gentle as a summer breeze. Her eyes meet yours, filled with genuine concern.

"I'm fine," you reply, offering a small smile. "Just... thinking about everything."

"Everything?" Fēlix chimes in, raising an eyebrow. "Or someone?"

Your cheeks heat up at his insinuation, but you don't dignify it with a response. Instead, you focus on the intricate patterns of the marble floor beneath your feet.

"Leave her alone," Petunia scolds Fēlix playfully, nudging him with her elbow. "She's allowed to have her thoughts without your constant teasing."

Fēlix feigns hurt, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh, how you wound me! But fine, I'll be good... for now."

You chuckle at their antics, grateful for the distraction. The truth is, your mind keeps drifting back to him and the confusing whirlwind of emotions he stirs within you. Your relationship is getting to be more hot and cold, and that worried you. As you turn a corner, you nearly collide with Matthew. He flaps his wings in surprise, cawing indignantly.

"Watch where you're going!" he squawks, ruffling his feathers. "Almost made me drop this book!" Your eyes drop to his feet to find a leather bound book dangling from a strap.

"Sorry, Matthew," you apologize quickly, trying to suppress a laugh at his flustered state.

"What's got you in such a rush?" Matthew eyes you suspiciously before his gaze shifts to Fēlix and Petunia. "Ah, I see. The gossip trio is on the move."

"We're not gossiping," you protest with a sniff, knowing full well that Fēlix's curiosity about your dream lover has been a hot topic lately.

"Right," Matthew drawls sarcastically before hopping onto Petunia's shoulder. "And I'm not a raven."

"No, you're just jealous that you aren't with us to listen in." You shoot back in correction. Matthew sputtered and puffs his feathers in indignation. Petunia giggles softly as she strokes Matthew's feathers soothingly.

"Come on now, let's not gang up on Kora." Matthew sighs dramatically but relents, settling comfortably on Petunia's shoulder.

"So," Fēlix starts again as you resume walking down the corridor. "Any plans for tonight?"

You hesitate for a moment to think, before answering. "I was thinking of going to the swamp to participate in the mud fight with the kelpies"

Petunia's eyes light up with excitement. "Oh! That sounds like so much fun! Do you have an outfit planned?"

"An outfit for a mud fight? Uh, that would be a firm no," you admit sheepishly.

"Well," Fēlix interjects with a mischievous grin. "You'd better find something stunning because I have a feeling someone special might like to indulge in a mud bath." Fēlix's words spark a laugh from Petunia and even Matthew lets out a caw that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle. You roll your eyes at their amusement, your cheeks flushing with warmth.

"Can we please stop talking about my love life?" you groan, only to have your words drowned out by a shockingly familiar voice floating down the hall from the throne room up ahead.

The voice, smooth as silk and soft as the nights caress, sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like a ghost of a memory, too elusive to catch but too persistent to ignore. Your heart stutters in your chest as you freeze in place.

"Who is that?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Fēlix and Petunia share a confused glance before Fēlix turns to you with an expression that's hard to read.

"That's Morpheus," he answers, his usual light tone taking on a more serious note. "You know, Lord of Dreams? You've met him before, Kora."

You feel your heart pound against your ribcage at his words. Morpheus? The same Morpheus who rules the Dreaming? The same one who you've barely interacted with? Who is so untouchable?

"Are you sure?" you question, struggling to keep your voice steady. The name rolls off your tongue like it belongs there, like it’s always been there. You can’t help but feel an inexplicable pull towards the sound of that voice, the allure of the mystery that is Morpheus.

"Oh yeah," Matthew caws from Petunia's shoulder, his beady eyes blinking at yours. "I'd recognize that voice anywhere, being his raven and all. Come on, let's go see who he's talking to. He only uses that voice when he's talking to kid dreamers or baby dream and nightmares. Ya know, being super nice for once…"

Your heart is in your throat as you numbly take a step forwards, and then another, and another. You do so, following your friends down the hall and to the archway of the throne room.

Stepping through the archway into the throne room, you see Morpheus. He's seated on his throne, talking to a small group of children who are hanging onto his every word. His voice washes over you, a soothing lullaby that pulls at your heartstrings in a way that feels achingly familiar.

Suddenly, it clicks.

Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams, Prince of Stories, Shaper of Forms, Dream of the Endless. Him.

The realization hits you like a freight train. The man you've been seeing in your dreams, the one who makes you feel loved and cherished like no one else ever has, the one who makes such passionate love to you, who kisses you with such devoted adoration, who holds you ever so close... it's him. It's always been him.

The room spins as you take in his ethereal beauty. His dark hair frames a face that is both handsome and gentle, his eyes sparkling with a softness that makes your heart ache. The cheeks and jaw you love to trace your fingers along, your eyes unseeing. He's even more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

His gaze lifts from the children and finds yours across the room. Sparkling silver blue eyes glide over your group of friends before settling on you. Your heart stops in your chest as Morpheus' gaze locks onto yours and something within you cracks, radiating sharp pains from your chest. You know that gaze, have felt it upon your being thousands of times before, basked in it unseeing.

Reality sets in and you're turning around to bolt out of the throne room, not a word leaving your lips as you flee from the truth. You run blindly through the palace corridors, ignoring the confused calls of Fēlix, Petunia, and Matthew. You need to get away before your tears start rushing down your cheeks.

Your feet carry you through the sprawling corridors of the palace, each step echoing off the stone walls. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, your heart pounding in your chest. The palace gardens are ahead, a haven of tranquility amidst the chaos. You stumble into the garden, gasping for breath as you lean against a nearby tree for support.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. You blink them back, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, a painful realization sinking in. Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, is your lover. The man you've been seeing in your dreams, who makes you feel cherished and loved like no one else ever has, is the son of Night and Time.

You slide down against the tree trunk, pulling your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms around them, burying your face in the folds of your dress. Your tears fall freely now, dampening the fabric.

Why him? Of all the dreams and nightmares in this realm, why did it have to be him? A simple dream or nightmare you could have enjoyed while living out your life, but Dream of the Endless? It's too much. It's overwhelming.

You feel a profound sense of loss and despair wash over you. It's not just about him being unattainable, it's about the fact that this love you've found is so much bigger than anything you've ever known. It's too big for you to handle. Your sobs echo through the garden, a haunting melody to accompany the rustling leaves and chirping birds. It feels like a piece of your soul is being torn away from you with each passing second.

A warm breeze caresses your face as if trying to comfort you in its own way. You let out a shuddering breath, feeling your tears slowly subside. You remain huddled against the tree, your mind still reeling from the revelation. He was right, he was always right. Your love didn't belong in the Dreaming. Because in the end, mortal love doesn't thrive within dreams, it flourishes in the sun and moon light of the Waking World. Perhaps it is time for you to go home. And right now, that's all you can do. So you do, your huddled form fading to ash in the gentle light of the Dreaming.

Date Published: 10/14/24

Last Edit: 10/14/24

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[ray935sworld]

I peeled an orange

pedrenzo fluff

23.11 winter writing

It had been a rather shit day on track.

Jorge and Dani had crashed. The younger one had been too aggressive, too naive, too risky and at the end he had dragged his boyfriend with him through the mudd.

He had been angry, just like Dani but now his anger had lost it's justification. He had seen the footage and got a stern talking from his crew chief.

Not just about crashing yet another bike and not knowing where to stand on the limit without overstepping in a way that makes him fall. It was also about letting his aggressive tendencies out and showing no remorse afterwards.

He had talked shit in the garage, pretty loudly. And you didn't need to be an entrepreneur to real his body language. Back then it felt justified. Like he was entitled to being angry.

But now he had remorse. He felt terrible for crashing Dani, potentially risking the health of the man he loved and wanted to protect more than anyone else in the world. He felt guilty and he didn't know how to phrase it.

He wanted to be alone but not lonely. He wanted to be with Dani, he wanted to go to him, apologize, hug and kiss him, to make up for his stupid tendencies.

But he was scared he wasn't welcome. He was scared to be vulnerable in their new relationship and end up getting hurt. He didn't want to get cast aside. He was scared of the rejection he might have caused. He didn't want to see Dani if it meant getting yelled at or hated. Even if he deserved it.

Maybe it was a selfish thought, but he couldn't help himself. He didn't want to face Dani if it meant getting hurt.

So he was wandering around, unsure where to go, where he was welcome. He somehow ended up in a dark corner of the paddock. He sat down, leaning against the wall, head against the cold stone and just breath.

He felt the air expanding his lunges. He closed his eyes and hold his breath. After a few second he felt the first sting in his chest. The first scream of his body for air, but he stayed like this.

He had forgotten when he had started doing this but he did it ever since. It felt like he had done it his whole life. Take a breath and hold it and wait until the pain was too unbearable.

He knew it wasn't healthy. It wasn't a good coping mechanism but it felt like the only pain available without really risking anything while riding. So he just sat there, holding his breath until he was physically unable to.

It calmed him. The pain took his mind away from whatever he was worrying about and only focused on the sting in his body.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw a figure walking towards him. A silhouette he knew all to well. After all, it was his boyfriend, the man he had watched with interest, curiousity, hate and love since they were kids.

"Dani" he said, with a hint of surprise and a hint of fear of what might follow. He watched as the man sat down next to him. He gave him a short smile. It was a tired but honest smile.

Jorge didn't find it in him to return it. He hadn't expected that. "Dani, why are you here?" he asked perplex.

"I don't know" Dani replied, his voice kind. There was no anger that was lingering under his breath, no hidden hate.

"I mean, you went here. I just went looking for you and found you here so why are we hiding in a dark ally behind some motorhome when he could be inside one of ours? Where it's warm and comfy? Where we could cuddle properly? Where I could make sure you're actually okay?"

Dani said it like it was the most natural thing to do. Like it had been Jorge who was completely off and doing things no one else would do. But wasn't it Dani's whose behavior was off?

Why didn't he hate him? Why was he so kind? Was it a trick? No. No, he couldn't even begin to imagine that.

"I... I didn't thought you wanted to see me" he said in all honesty. "You're my boyfriend" The shorter one replied and nudged him softly. "I always want to see you."

"But I was... Okay, Dani, about today... I don't know how to say it... I just... I was... I mean... I... Fuck." he sighed. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to explain himself and show him that he was sorry. He hadn't mean to hurt him or endanger him or make him angry. And now he didn't even know how to apologize.

"I know, Jorge. It's okay. That's how racing goes sometimes. I don't mind" he said and the way he looked at him, he really believed he knew everything he wanted to say and didn't know how to phrase. It was like he was looking in his mind and soul, just to smile at him, whispering "I know you inside and outside"

"And-" Dani continued as he reached into the pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a small orange fruit. "I know that you probably haven't eaten a lot since."

The younger one smiled about the older man's need to look after him and make sure he was okay. Never could he have imagined that he would ever find someone that after getting unjustified yelled at not just forgive him but bought him a fruit.

Jorge watched Dani silently. He watched how his fingers softly but determined gripped the shell of the fruit and teared it down.

He put the different pieces down on a paper that was laying next to him. One after one, he peeled the fruit carefully.

It felt like a slow art. For a moment the younger Spaniard wondered if it was weird that he just sat there, staring at Dani's slim fingers. But it didn't seem to bother him and neither did he care so he stopped wondering.

Dani then moved the fruit a little bit in his hand and started to work on those weird little white strings that were hanging down.

"They make me so happy" Dani suddenly said with a smile. His voice was calm, his eyes still locked on his task.

Jorge was about to give a confused reply. Wondering what was so special about them. But Dani continued and gave him the answer.

"Ordinary things often do... Just lately... Shopping. A walk on the park. This is peace and contentment." Then he recognized it. It was poem.

The orange by Wendy Cope.

"It's new. The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all the jobs on my list and enjoyed them and had some time over." he continued.

"I love you" Dani said with a smile as he handed him a perfectly peeled half.

"I'm glad I exist." Jorge muttered when putting his head on Dani's shoulder. He felt his warmth. He felt safe.

"I'm glad you exist too" his boyfriend replied, kissing his head before leaning against it.

For a moment Jorge closed his eyes. He took the moment in, remember the words that had been said, bathing in happiness. And suddenly he realized that the poem was not about clementines. It was about oranges.

But Dani had bought him a clementine. And normally he would not read to much into it. But he knew the older one had both stored in his motorhome and he knew a lot about mythology so he managed to made the connection.

He smiled at the realization.

After all it had been Dani to teach him that Clementia was the Roman goddess of forgiveness.

[alrawabi-imagines]

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

The last year and a half of your life was going rather well until one night where you ended up fighting with your girlfriend. The argument getting worse by the second until she shouted

“We need to break up.” You tried to talk her out of it,to tell her it was a stupid thing to do. But she persisted,  “Stop it. I don't love you anymore.” You couldn't stand to see her cry. She asked to keep your relationship a secret and you agreed but recently you had brought up the subject of her coming out which started this fight. 

"In that case,I'll leave." You knew she never would come out,you'd never force her but it would be nice to at least get to kiss your girlfriend without being scared of people seeing. You couldn't help but wonder if she truly loved you, or if you were just an experiment for her.

“You think that’ll make me change my mind? Go ahead, leave.”

"You know I don't blame you for not wanting to come out. Take your time,figure it out. But don't play with my very real feelings when you're not even sure about yours" Taylor looked at you, almost shocked that you would accuse her of that. 

“I’ll have you know I'm always sure about my feelings.” She spoke with a little anger in her voice. You could tell this conversation was making both of your blood boil. “It's not my fault I struggle with expressing my feelings.” She snapped back.

"That's my point,you're not ready for a relationship like this" you grabbed a bag,stuffing a few things inside. Everything you'd left at her place. "Don't worry I won't tell anyone about this" you reassured her.

Taylor clenched her fists with frustration. She knew you were right. She wasn't ready for a serious relationship, especially one like this. She watched as you packed up some of your belongings, getting ready to leave. She wanted to tell you not to go, to just drop it, but she just couldn’t. She just silently watched you as her heart ached.

The next morning she wordlessly stepped aside, letting you into the house. Silently watching you as you picked up the boxes and walked into the house. She couldn't help but just stare at you, remembering all of the laughs, cuddles, fights and kisses you had shared. It was all gonna be over soon. You were packing up the last box,along with her last chance to say something. You turned back to her,moving closer. 

"I'm not going to tell anyone about this and if you feel ready,come find me. But I'm not going to put my life on hold for you and I don't expect you to do the same. I love you,Taylor" She took a deep breath, feeling a lump forming in her throat.

"I love you too," she whispered softly. "Please be happy."

"You too,good luck,Taylor"

2 weeks later

These past 2 weeks had been hard for Taylor. She found herself missing you more and more each day. Every time she walked into her lonely house, she was reminded of you. Every time she saw something that reminded her of you, her heart ached a little more. So when she found out that you’d be performing at an upcoming music show she knew she had to be there. She debated going but thought it would be awkward if she showed up alone. She did manage to get a date and the media immediately labeled him as her new boyfriend.

She scanned the crowd, looking for you. She didn’t know if you'd seen her with her date, but part of her was hoping you were jealous. At first she didn't recognize you,you were dressed in a black dress with lace and silver. Metal looking accents lined the dress. It was completely unlike you,you usually looked like you were as she described 'a goddess of love or cupid'. You usually dressed in pink and happy colors and were always smiling but not now. Your expression was cold and lifeless,void of any emotion. She felt a pang of hurt and guilt as she looked at you, knowing that she was probably the cause of your current appearance.

Taylor watched as you walked down the red carpet in front of the cameras, your face looking completely expressionless. It was hard for her to believe that this was the same person she knew and loved.

The night continued, with both of you avoiding each other like the plague. Even though Taylor wanted to talk to you, to get near you, she didn’t know if you would even respond to her. She constantly glanced over at you, trying to find the right moment to approach, but it never came. The performances started and soon it was your turn. Your name lit up the screens. As the music started and you stepped out with a microphone. There were no back up dancers with you,unlike any of your previous performances. This one was darker,sadder. As the music started playing, Taylor immediately noticed the change in tone. This wasn’t a happy or cheerful song, it was much darker and more emotional. Suddenly she knew exactly what the song was about. You stopped in the middle of the stage.

"It's fine, it's cool You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth" you briefly glanced at her. "And guess I'm the fool With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof"  you sang. Taylor froze when you looked in her direction while singing that first part. She knew the song was about her, about the fight, about your guys’ failed relationship. She took a shaky breath as she listened to you sing.Her heart aching at the thought of you calling yourself a fool. She couldn’t help but feel responsible for all of this."I don't wanna call it off. But you don't wanna call it love You only wanna be the one that I call "baby"" you continued singing. "You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason" you glanced back at her for the next part. "Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling" repeating the words you had said before you left. Taylor’s heart ached with each word you sang. She could see the pain and the hurt in your eyes as you looked in her direction. She knew this song was about her. Her eyes welled up with tears as you repeated the words “Good luck, babe” over and over. It was like a knife being stabbed into her heart, a brutal reminder that she messed up."I'm cliché, who cares? It's a sexually explicit kind of love affair And I cry, it's not fair I just need a little lovin', I just need a little air Think I'm gonna call it off Even if you call it love I just wanna love someone who calls me "baby"" you continued this time changing the lyrics. "You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling" repeating the chorus,you could see her whispering something to the man beside her before they got up. She was getting up to leave.She stopped at the door and turned back to look at you. "When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife And when you think about me, all of those years ago You're standing face to face with "I told you so" You know I hate to say, "I told you so" You know I hate to say, but," you saw her run out as you shouted the last part " i told you so" You sung the last part "You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling (well, I told you so) You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason Good luck, babe"

You made your way backstage,handing over the mic before heading to your dressing room. As you touched up your make up there was a knock on the door.

"Come in" you said,not bothering to look up. You capped the mascara and reapplied your lip gloss,still looking at the mirror.Without looking at her you simply said. "I'm not telling you who the song is about,so don't even try" it was clear by the way you spoke that you thought she was a reporter or an employee.

"It's me. The song is about me," Taylor said as she watched you continue to touch up your makeup, refusing to meet her gaze. The silence in the room was deafening as she waited for your response, wondering if you would finally turn and look at her.

"If you're here to apologize or say you'll come out,don't. Like I said I'm not going to pressure you,I only sang that song for myself I won't tell someone about us" Taylor's heart felt heavy as you finally looked up at her and spoke. It was clear that you had closed yourself off from her, that you were still hurt and angry. The thought of you singing that song for yourself, without any intention of making her feel guilty, made her feel even worse. She knew she had hurt you, had pushed you away, and the last thing she wanted was for you to think that she didn't care. She took a couple more steps closer until she was standing right in front of you.You stood up to face her. 

"I... I needed to tell you something."

"Okay,go ahead"

"I... I'm sorry," she began, her voice quavering with emotion. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you, for pushing you away and for not acknowledging our relationship. It was stupid and cowardly, and you didn't deserve it."

"You're right,I didn't deserve to be treated like that. I deserve someone who's willing to show me off,who'll stand with me and be proud to have me. You're at a part of your life where you're not ready to do that,and I don't hold it against you. Some people aren't ready their whole lives,and I don't deserve to be a secret especially when I'm not hiding. I want to be able to love someone out loud" You spoke again "I forgive you and I'm not mad at you. You should get back to your date." You took a few steps toward the door but before you left you said one last thing. "I love you,Taylor," you whispered. Those words hit her like a ton of bricks. Hearing you say them again, even in a whisper, sent a wave of emotions coursing through her. She wanted to say it back, to tell you that she loved you too, but the words caught in her throat. She wouldn’t even look back at you,the sound of the door clicking shut echoed in her ears, leaving her alone in the silence of the dressing room. She had let you walk away, and there was no guarantee that she would ever be able to get you back now.