#oh to be seen as an actual human and not just a fuckable thing from a guys perspective who also has an immaculate sense of humor

[shadowofmyghost]

That one online friend who u kept in touch with after the 2020 friend group fell apart and despite throwing profanities at each other 24 7 has a way to make u smile whether its 3pm or 3am >>>>>

[fozmeadows]

race & culture in fandom

For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.

Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.

All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.

Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?

Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.

The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.

Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.

Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.

An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.

But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.

Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.  

[jisungsplatforms]

Humph!!

Pairing: Seo Changbin x fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut, minimal amount of angst (if you squint), fluff (happy happy ending!); non idol au, enemies to lovers, college au

Warning: Mature content! (DNI if you are uncomfortable or UNDERAGED); language, name calling, reader is kind of a jerk, erotic asphyxiation, use of pets names, hint of degrading, praise kink (implied), fingering (f), oral (f&m), PIV, unprotected sex (be careful with this!), unintended voyeurism (Chan and Jisung accidentally hears reader and Changbin getting it on)

Seo Changbin.

Or as you like to call him, the bane of your existence. You wouldn’t exactly call yourself the ‘petty type’ but how could you ever forget about the boy who pulled on your hair and cut in front of you during lunch time, only to get the last middle piece of pizza- a slice that was supposed to be yours, in middle school? And yes, while it is something so small, so trivial, that you should’ve easily forgotten all about it, you just couldn’t for he just seemed to pop up around you every. single. day. Oh, the list of ways he picked on you could go on and on. It was like whenever he saw you, he just had to push your buttons as if it’s his little demented mission to irk you for the rest of your life.

No one has ever made your blood boil more than he has. It makes your blood boil even more when you, yourself, couldn’t even deny the fact that the once scrawny, immature boy turned to the hottest, most muscular (and fuckable) man you’ve ever seen. Now here you are, as college juniors, and you two are still going at each other’s throats. And of course, no matter how older you get, the two of you will always find time to bicker with each other for the littlest things

“WHAT KIND OF AN IDIOT ARE YOU?” you yell, looking at Changbin in disgust. “WHAT NORMAL HUMAN BEING DOES THAT?!”

He rolls his eyes at you, clicking his tongue, “Well, excuse me for having COLD FEET. SO WHAT YOU THINK ITS WEIRD? I GET COLD EASILY AT NIGHT SO LET ME WEAR MY SOCKS TO SLEEP IN PEACE, WOMAN!” Changbin yells back, glaring at you.

Ahh, yes. Today’s fight is now on whether or not wearing socks to bed is considered ‘abnormal’. Cause what else could you argue about?

“BUT…It’s so WEIRD! Can’t you, like, invest in some thicker blankets instead? There are better options than wearing SOCKS IN BED.”

“WHAT? IS IT A CRIME TO WEAR SOCKS TO-”

Jisung interrupts Changbin by slamming one of his hands down onto the table. “God… SHUT UP! CAN YOU TWO JUST FUCK ALREADY?!” he moans in irritation. Chan lightly shoves Jisung in retaliation, scolding him for being too loud. Jisung looks at him and pouts, mumbling a quick ‘sorry’. Chan sighs, finally looking at your startled faces .

“He’s kinda right though,” he says, calmly, “not exactly about the, uhm, having sex part, though the sexual tension between you two is nauseating. But I mean about getting along with each other and finally putting an end to this ‘rivalry’.”

You and Changbin glance at each other for a brief second before scoffing. “Please. Hell would freeze over before we do,” you sneer, side eyeing him.

“I’d rather kiss an electric eel than make up with that snake of a woman,” Changbin mumbles, looking away from you.

“How about I arrange that for you?” you smile, using the fakest sweet voice you could muster. Changbin turns to you with a scoff.

“You are such a-”

“Enough!” Chan says with a stern tone he almost never uses. The look Chan was giving you both was enough to shut you up and intimidate you; hell even Jisung was scared! “Either make up on your own by the end of the month, or else. Understand?”

Both you and Changbin sigh in irritation before agreeing. “Yes…”

“I mean it! Y/n, Changbin! This is getting ridiculous now. Honestly, you guys are full grown adults but you act like children, and not the good ones! Think of the other people you’re affecting with your behaviors.”

Silence fell upon your whole table. You could only nod your head shamefully at Chan’s words, while Changbin clicks his tongue but not say anything else. Jisung looks around the table, the uncomfortable silence making the poor boy feel antsy.

“Good,” Chan leans back, his cheerful demeanor coming back, “One month, that’s it. And play nice!”

“This is stupid,” Changbin groans, leaning back on his chair. You roll your eyes at him.

“Shut it. Remember, this is for the sake of our friends.”

Ever since that day- the day Chan scared the shit out of you both- you and Changbin made an agreement to try and be civil around one another. It wasn’t very nice, but you both knew Chan was right. You didn’t want to lose your friends because of some stupid rivalry that started 9 years ago. To fix your problem, the two of you, begrudgingly, decided to hangout with each other for the next month. Today marks your one week anniversary of your treaty.

Needless to say…you both hate it.

“If we have to hangout, can we not spend our time in a library?” the short man complains, looking at you with his sharp eyes.

“Well, sorry, but I have a chemistry test in a few days and I’m sure as hell not failing that. You know Science isn’t my best subject.”

Changbin groans, sliding down his chair. “Whatever.” he mutters distastefully. You shook your head.

“Don’t you need to study for anything too?” you asked, not even sparing him a glance.

“No. I’m done with all the tests I have to do and none of my other teachers prepped us for another one. So I’m basically free, doll.”

You cringe at Changbin calling you ‘doll’, hating how that simple pet name sent a delighted shiver down your back. You scoff.

“Disgusting,” you grimace, “Never call me that again.”

Changbin smirks, now sitting up on his chair to lean closer to you. “Whatever you say, doll.”

You look up at him with a nasty glare, resisting the urge to yell at him. “You are so lucky we’re in a library.” He laughs sardonically at you. You huff, standing up to look for a chemistry book. Changbin looks at you questioningly.

“Where’re you going?”

“Looking for more books.”

He sighs, starting to stand up as well. “No,” you stop him, “By myself.” He put his hands up, slowing sitting back down. You turn around and walk to the aisle containing the textbooks. After almost 10 minutes of searching, you still couldn’t find the book you were looking for.

“Damn, I was beginning to think you left me here by myself.”

You jolt at the sound of Changbin’s rough voice. You turn to see him leaning against the bookshelf.

“I’m not that much of a jerk,” you answer scornfully, going back to your search. You could hear Changbin’s heavy footsteps grow closer. You turn to see him standing right beside your crouching figure, looking down at you. The angle you’re seeing him in shouldn’t be making you think of such indecent thoughts. You snap your head back to the shelf as Changbin crouches with you, softly groaning as he goes down. You were trying your best not to make contact with him.

Changbin helps you look for a chemistry book, trying to be nice. You could feel yourself getting hotter at his courteousness. You really didn’t want to admit that Changbin was actually a decent person, so you couldn’t help but put up a front.

“I don’t need your help, you know?”

He sniggers, “I’m not trying to be nice. I just wanna get out of here faster.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not getting his joke. “Geez, then get away from me,” you raised your voice, still keeping the fact that you’re still in a library in mind. “I can do it myself.”

Changbin looks at you, a little shocked. He huffs, sticking his tongue against his cheek. “Honestly, you don’t have to be such an ass around me all time, you know?” he says, quietly. You stop your actions, feeling a little bad for snapping at him. “You said yourself, you want us to try getting along, why can’t you act like it?”

You bit your bottom lip, still not looking at him. “Simple. It’s cause I hate you,” you lied. He looked at you for a few seconds before standing up. You didn’t see the look of defeat on his face.

“You know,” Changbin says slowly, “I thought we could be friends. Deep down, I really thought we actually could.” You stayed quiet, looking down. “But now I know, you’re really just a stone-cold bitch.”

That. Now that lit a fire in you. You stand up abruptly with cold eyes. “Never call me that ever again.”

“What? A bitch?” He challenges, eyes equally as cold as yours. “See, here’s the thing; It’s true. I’m trying to be nice here and you’re just shutting down every single nice act I try to do for you. And what have you done for me? Drag me around like I’m some dog? You couldn’t even have the decency to even ask where I wanted to go.”

You could feel yourself get smaller and smaller with every step he took closer to you. For someone who was only 5’6”, damn did he look big. You bit the inside of your cheek when you felt your back hit the wall.

“What’s your problem with me, Y/n? I’ve seen the way you are with Jisung and Chan. I’ve seen the way you are with your other friends. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but ever since we started college, I’ve been trying to be nicer to you. But I guess it makes sense that someone as self-centered as you wouldn’t notice.”

You let out a sarcastic “ha”. You shake your head and stare into his eyes. “I told you. I. don’t. like. you. Do I need any more of a reason?”

“Yes. Yes, you do actually.”

“Hm. Find then. You’re annoying, you’re loud, you’re simple-minded, childish, irresponsible, you don’t take things seriously, you’re whiny, messy, irritatingly cocky and seeing your face is just so infuriated that it makes me nauseous,” you list. “Want more?”

The deadly look on his face simultaneously frightens and arouses you. The sarcastic smirk he gave you, though, was hotter. “Continue.”

“You’re nothing but a show off.” With those words, Changbin’s arrogant facade broke. “You act so cool and cocky when really you’re just average at best. Everything you do. Average. You don’t have much to show for. Nothing you do is worth being proud of.”

Changbin slams his hands onto the wall, making you gasp. You stare at him with wide eyes. “Take that back,” he snarls. If you thought he was intimidating before, boy were you wrong. But something in your touch starved mind made you more horny than frightened. Feeling bold, you tilt your chin up, maliciously. “Or what, Seo?”

All of a sudden, he wraps his veiny arm around your neck, choking you. It was so arousing and so sudden that you let out an embarrassingly whiny moan. “Oh?” Changbin raises a brow with a smirk. He tightens his grip on your neck, laughing cockily when you let out another whine. “Oh, I see now,” he whispers in your ear, “You act so high and mighty, always trying to take control of things, when really you’re just some sub in disguise. Isn’t that right, doll?”

You bit your lip, eyes tearing up in sexual frustration. You eyes roll back, biting your lip harder, when his grip on your throat tightens. “Aww~ how cute. You look so pathetic like this, baby,” he says, biting the shell of your ear. You arch your back at the stimulation, grinding your hips into his with a whimper. You were so glad that you were at the farthest corner of the library. Changbin moves away from you and grabs your arm. “Let’s go. We’re leaving.”

He drags you back to your table and carelessly stuffs your belongings into your bag. He slings it over his should and harshly pulls you out of the library. His apartment wasn’t that far from the library so the two of you didn’t bother picking up a cab. The walking distance between the library and his house was only about 10 minutes or less, but to you guys, it felt like hours.

Changbin fumbles with his keys, wanting to unlock the door faster. When he succeeds, he pushes you inside, slamming and locking his door roughly. He throws your bag to the ground then proceeds to pull you into his room. He turns the knob and kicks his door open.

Once inside, he pushes you onto his bed, hovering above you. The two of you were panting heavily from the tension. “Please tell me to stop,” he breathes shakily, staring at your lips, finally saying his first words since the library. “If you don’t want this, tell me to stop before I lose it.”

Did you really want this? Do you really want him? Or is it just your hormones talking? You contemplate, thinking back on all the years you’ve known him. Yeah, you thought that he was annoying when you were younger, wanting nothing more than to push him down a well. However, as you grew up, you started to notice how mature he has gotten throughout the years. He still does make fun of you, but it wasn’t as bad as before. He did treat you like an actual human being when he wasn’t irritating you. Especially recently. He really did treat you nicely but you were too prideful yourself to admit that.

Even up to now, you said some really hurtful things to him, and he was still making sure you were okay when he could’ve just lashed out on you and done whatever he wants. Changbin is genuinely a really nice guy and you were just too stuck up to see that. In that moment, you realize that you actually like Changbin, as in, have genuine feelings for him. Maybe even way longer than you realize but you were being stubborn to acknowledge it. Speaking of, you seem to realize that you were so lost in thought that Changbin took your silence as a ‘no’.

Just as he was about to remove himself from your body, you grab onto his shirt and push your lips onto his. He was taken aback. He was convinced that you truly didn’t like him but you seem to have proved him wrong. Before he could kiss you back, you parted away from him, leaning your forehead against him. “Make me yours, Bin,” you whisper.

Without any hesitation, Changbin kisses you with fervor. The kiss held so much passion, desperation, and desire that it made you moan. You wrap your arms around his neck, messing with his dark hair. Changbin groans, grinding his hips against yours. He pulls away to take off your shirt and start marking you up. You mewl, feeling him suck, lick, and kiss your neck.

One particular suck on the juncture of your neck made you moan out loud. He smiles against your skin, taking extra time on that area. You cry out, pulling on his hair to get his attention. “Changbin…” you say breathlessly. He looks up and nearly loses it on the spot. You laying underneath him, neck covered with sexy red marks that he created. You already look so dazed out that Changbin wonders how much more beautiful you will look when he actually fucks you.

He moves up to your face, stroking your hair. “What’s wrong, doll?” he questions you softly. You whimper as you roll your hips up to meet his. Changbin hisses at the feeling.

“Inside,” you whine, “Want you inside me, please.”

“Do you now?” Now his tone was condescending. You pout, nodding your head. “Cute. What makes you thing that I’d just give it to you after how much of a brat you were earlier?” You rub your thighs together, pouting.

Tears starts forming in your eyes. “Please? I’m sorry for being a brat. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

Changbin chuckles darkly. “Oh, you will, doll,” he says, rubbing both your thighs. He glances up at you to read your expressions, only continuing when you gave him a confirming nod. He sits up and takes off your pants. He chuckles, licking his lips when he realizes that your bra and panties were a matching set. “How adorable.” he sings, making you flustered.

Changbin kisses your stomach before slipping his hand down your panties. You clench your thighs, trapping his hand, as he plays with your clit. He rubs slow circles on your clit, stroking your slit before sliding one finger inside you. You grab a fistful of his bed sheets, moaning. He lazily moves his finger in you, adding another one to fill you up a little more. You were already breathless. Your sweet moans filling up the entire room. Changbin starts to move his fingers faster, bending them, making you arch your back and whine louder.

You could already feel your high getting closer. You start squirming around in response. “Close, baby?” he asks, rhetorically. You nod your head frantically.

“Y-yes, fuck. Oh shi- yes.”

Changbin pumps his fingers faster for you, feeling yourself clenching tighter and tighter before you finally cum around them. He lets you ride out your high before slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to your lips, prying them open. “Open up, doll.” You let his fingers inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself, making the two of you groan. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, sliding down so his face meets your wet core.

You look down at him, questioningly. You were about to ask him what he was doing until he licks up your slit. Your eyes widened as you threw your head back, letting out a moan loud enough that it borderline sounded like a scream. His tongue explores your pussy, occasionally sucking on your clit as you pant.

“N-no,” you stammer, “that’s not-n-no. I-I’m still sensi-ah!” You grip his hair, not sure if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer. Changbin chuckles at this, the vibrations from it shooting up your core. Your sensitivity from your first orgasm brought you closer to your next release. You start bucking your hips, thighs closing in on his head as your core tightens. He grabs your thighs, prying them open. One last harsh suck on you clit made you cum again, this time on his tongue. Changbin licks up your slit, gathering up every single drop of your juices.

He sits up and smiles at you, his chin covered with your excess wetness. He rubs your thighs to calm you down. “You good, Y/n?” he worryingly asks, “Think you can handle one more?” You lazily nod your head, a little overwhelmed with the over sensitivity. Changbin wipes his mouth before crawling back to your face. He kisses you leisurely, taking his time with your lips to give you more time to calm down.

You hold onto his muscular biceps as he cups your face. You were still panting harshly even before he started making out with you. He peppers your face with gentle pecks, encouraging you to continue. “How ‘bout now? Can you handle one more orgasm, babe?”

This time, you could actually reply to him. “Y-yeah. ‘Think I can.” you said, quietly. Changbin smiles and gives you one more peck on your lips. He leans up and takes off his clothes. Even after two orgasms, you still felt needy for Changbin. Your eyes rake down his form, eyeing each one of his bulging muscles. Damn, no wonder why he’s always bragging about going to the gym everyday, cause he has every right to do so.

Now, if you thought his body was impressive, then his cock was another story. Your eyes widens, breath hitching when you see it. Holy shit, now I know why he’s so short, you thought. He has a monster cock that totally makes up for it. “Holy fuck-“ Changbin looks at you with a smirk.

“What’s wrong, doll? Bigger than you expected?” You nod dumbly, mouth ajar. Changbin could feel his ego skyrocketing. He pumps himself, throwing his head back in pleasure, finally feeling some kind of pleasure before lining himself to your hole. He adjusts his position, spreading your legs wider as well. “I’ll go as slowly as I can,” he mutters. You mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ as he starts pushing in.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes clenching as you try to take him in fully. Changbin moans rather loudly, your tightness a little too much for him. “W-wait. Fuck…” you call out with slight hiss. He stops his penetration, waiting for you to adjust. Your grip on his shoulders tightens, silently giving him the ok to move. He continues his advancement slowly until he bottoms out inside you. The both of you moan, giving each other time to relax.

Changbin leans down to kiss your cheek, whispering encouraging words to you. You stay in your positions for almost a minute before pleading for Changbin to move. At first, his thrusts were slow, testing out how well you could take him in for now. You moan softly, the way his hips move softly is already shooting bursts of pleasure throughout your body. Gradually, he picks up his pace, his once slow, loving thrusts are now hungry, desperate ones.

His hands were now on the back of your thighs, folding you in half. The new position allows him to reach deeper inside you. “B-bin,” you whine, clawing at his back, “hmm…fuck. M-more. Fuck me harder.”

“Harder? You really think your pretty little pussy can handle my cock, doll?”

“Yes! P-please g-give me more. I can handle i-it!”

Changbin laughs at your desperation, picking up his pace. You moan louder, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. Changbin’s soft moans and growls and your own whiny moans filled his bedroom. Neither of you knew who would break first, both of your releases nearing. The tip of his cock starts hitting right on your sweet spot, making you scream. He throws his head back with a loud, raspy moan when he feels you tightening around him.

“I’m s-so fucking close, Bin,” you cry, “Don’t s-stop!”

“My, what a desperate slut you are.”

He bites his lip, hips moving harder and deeper, as he leans closer to kiss you. Remembering the scene from the library, Changbin’s right hand snakes around your neck, firmly but gently choking you.You let yourself enjoy the feeling of him blocking your airways, closing your eyes in pleasure. You whine loudly when he slips his tongue in your mouth. You let him explore your wet cavern, loving the feeling. Your eyes shot open when you felt his thumb playing with your clit.

“Sh-shit! Changbin!” You moan, arching your back. You could feel the beginnings of your release.

“C’mon,beautiful,” Changbin whispers, “Cum for me.” His words seem to have triggered your orgasm. Your body went stiff, cumming around his cock, mumbling a bunch of expletives. You start trembling, the feeling of your orgasm was too intense. Changbin hisses, pulling himself out of you when he felt his own release nearing.

He pulls you up, pushing your head close to his throbbing dick. Getting the memo, you lean down and take him into your mouth. You bob your head up and down as you pump the rest of his cock. Changbin moans, his rough hand in your hair. He starts rocking his hips, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. One harsh tug on your scalp made you moan, the vibrations sends waves of pleasure down his cock making him throw his head back yet again.

“What a dirty little girl,” he pants heavily. “Love my cock that much, huh, doll?” Tears pool your eyes as you try humming in agreement. The second round of vibrations sent Changbin over the edge. Hot spurts of cum shoots down your throat. He holds your head in place until he finishes cumming. “That’s it, beautiful. Swallow it all. Don’t let anything go to waste.”

He lets go of your head and gently pushes you down his bed. He cups your cheek, rubbing it tenderly with his thumb. Changbin reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, throwing it down onto his floor and rubbing at your breast to soothe you, only letting go of them when you let out an uncomfortable whine. He moves up to your face and kisses you softly.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” he questions you. You nod, too fucked out to respond verbally. Changbin giggles, moving to lay beside you and petting your hair as you calm yourself. You turn your body to hug his, slightly catching him off guard. He immediately relaxes, however, and continues stroking your hair. The two of you lay comfortably until Changbin broke the silence.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, quietly. You note the tone of uncertainty in his words. Your eyes meet his in question.

“Mean what?” you slur, still having a bit of trouble talking.

“Did you mean what you said in the library? Do you really hate me? Was this just a…one time thing?”

You look at him sadly, his expression matching yours. He didn’t want this to be just a one night stand. He genuinely wants to be friends with you. Scratch that, he wants to be even more than that. You nibble on your lips, shaking your head.

“No…I don’t actually hate you…Yeah, you piss me off a lot but…I can’t actually hate you,” you say, moving your hands to cup his face. You could feel Changbin leaning into your touch. “Honestly, I don’t even remember when I started liking you. I guess I only just realized it now when you pushed me onto your bed.”

Changbin moves away from you in shock. “You…like me?” You timidly nod your head, a little embarrassed now. He lets out the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him and kisses you. This time, this kiss was soft, filled with so much love and unsaid feelings. You giggle into the kiss, holding his face. Changbin pulls away from you and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes twinkling in joy. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

You smile, moving to peck his lips. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, “For everything I said. It was uncalled for and kinda mean. Scratch that, I really was a fucking bitch to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Changbin hums, rubbing your back. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I get why you said all that. I mean, this whole rivalry started ‘cause of me, so this was kinda my fault to begin with.”

“No, it’s not. We both brought this upon ourselves, Bin, so we’re both at fault.”

“I guess…Let’s just start over?”

You contemplate. “I think,” you start cautiously, “It’s better if we don’t.”

“Huh?” Changbin was confused. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean, I don’t really want to forget about our past and pretend our years of bickering never happened. We already fell for each other’s bad qualities, so why should we, you know? There’s nothing for us to hide at this point.”

Changbin had a look of realization on his face, drawing out a long ‘ah’. “I like that,” he laughs. “You’re right. Let’s do that!” He pulls you closer to his broad chest, kissing the top of your head. He hugs your form tighter, as if he was afraid that this was a dream. “Oh yeah, what’re we gonna tell Chan and Jisung when we show up together all lovey-dovey?” he wonders out loud.

“No need to tell us anything!” a voice sounding a lot like Jisung’s calls out from the other side of Changbin’s door. “We’ve been home for 15 minutes now. We heard almost everything! Chill out goddamnit!” You both could hear Chan in the distance, yelling at Jisung for saying that while he goes on about how you two “actually did it, they finally got laid!”.

“Oh my god…” you groan in mortification while Changbin drowns with laughter. You hide your face on Changbin’s chest, feeling it shake from his laughs. “Looks like we got that down!” he jokes. You slap his chest with a whine.

Yup. Today now marks the end of the Seo-L/n war, and damn were you glad it did.

~End~

A/n: hi. if you didn’t know, this is actually a repost yay :) cause after all this time, this fic still hasn’t shown up in the tags cause t*mblr is a little bi-

[doctor-plagueis]

RWBY Booty Tier List

Hi I said it would happen so now it's gonna happen, time to rate asses and explain why I gave them that rating...

(also they are in order from flattest to phattest)

[This took way too long (T-T) ]

Starting with D TIER Aka Flat as fuck

Raven: Ya go to the lowest tier in D tier ya all-tits-no-ass having ass, you deadbeat fucko (I really don't like parents who leave their children, how'd you guess?).

Weiss : Sorry girl but even with all your dance training, your Sperm donor's DNA is in you, if it was just your mom's DNA you'd rocket up to A TIER, still more ass than Raven tho, which says a lot about Raven since Weiss is as flat as a wooden plank (sorry @naughtyweiss your girl has no ass).

All of team NDGO: these bitches show up once or twice, and, in the novels they do something bad? I didn't read it, but they like sacrifice some people to the Grimm or something? Anyways they have almost no ass too little to actually matter.

C TIER Aka Too much muscle

Pyrrha : Sorry unbeatable girl your life style is just too healthy, with all her exercises and no fat foods she has no cushioning, I'm sorry Pyrrha you just have too much muscle.

Reese : With all her skating she must have some muscle in the back, like literally, her muscles are trained to keep her on the board during combat so her ass is super firm, but that's a bit of a downside since it's too firm, kinda hard actually like really hard.

Also she gives me party animal girl vibes, that doesn't affect anything just thought I'd mention it.

Elm: Have you seen how tall and beefy that girl is? Now does this affect her backside...mmm...kind of? Her ass is just and, I mean just muscle which is bad because no cushioning.

But her thighs tho mm~mm delicious.

Yang : Yang is all about her upper body, she's proud of her tits and her arms, she is Miss "punch first ask later" after all, so i can actually see her skipping some leg days, like Reese her booty is alot of muscle but not so much cushion, sorry Yang.

Arslan : Like Yang, Arslan is all about working out and honing her body to peak physical fighting ability, however, this girl has genetics on her side, her tits aren't as big as Yang’s however, she make up for having a tentsy little bit of cushion for the pushin' not really enough to be B TIER though.

B TIER Aka Now were gettin' good

Penny Ver.2 : Penny Version 1 was pure metal (at least in my headcanon) so she was all legs no butt, however, Penny Version 2 (again in my headcanon) had synthetic skin, now I'm not saying Pietro is some weird pervert giving his child a fat ass, but he was "generous" which was inaccurate as...

Penny (human) : Penny as a human never had the chance to exercise [fuck you RT (T-T)], so her booty was a little lacking but it was still bigger and rounder than her robot body.

Ruby: Now you and I both know that with all the sweets Ruby eats she isn't exactly thin, good thing though is all the fat goes to her ass, Ruby has that fatty y'all!

Neo : I'm sure people will question this one but, Neo's height is a detrement on her ass, since she's so short her ass has to be proportional to her actual height, so for women her height she has so much ass but compared to the others in this list it isn't as much.

Coco: Coco takes care of her fashion and her body. She does squats often and keeps a balance between fat and firmness. Unfortunately genetics gave her a cute face but not a phat ass, sorry queen.

Summer: Same as Ruby except she has that MILFY boost to her hips and booty (she also has bigger tits but, oh well this isn't the Titty Tier list so...).

Winter : Training for the military helped null the taint of Jacques DNA in her, so she took a bit more of her mother’s blessed genes, her ass isn't exactly impressive like the girls in A TIER but it's nothing to scoff at either, unlike her sister (sorry Weissey).

Miltiades "Miltia" : both sisters wear heels, however, Miltia has bigger boobs than her twin while Mel has a bigger booty, still wearing heels and being as acrobatic as they both are requires a lot of lower body training, and also since they work at a club as security they do know how to seduce people, and that did affected their rating.

A TIER Aka Nearly perfectly fuckable

Harriet : Now to be one hundred percent honest Harriet has more thighs than ass, however, with her focus on speed and the training she does, she must have a nice fuckable ass, not the biggest or roundest but really, really nice.

Melanie: Both sisters are guards for Junior's club, but, I like to think that Mel also works as a Stripper or Lap dancer (Hooker if you got enough to buy her services and have a dick big enough, she's a bit of a size queen), so she worked on making her already fat ass even better and also took the time to hone her sex appeal, those being her twerking and lapdancing.

Velvet : Bunny gal has some phat Bunny Buns if ya catch my meaning, like go back to volume 3 and get a good look at her costume, girl's got hips and ass like she was bred for it!

Willow: Have you seen her in the newest volumes?? She has a chance (admittedly small) against the legendary bellabooties Gahtdayum!

Too bad she wasted it with a nearly sterile fucking shit pile of a human like Jacques, ugh... (How he managed to have 3 children baffles me, must've taken half the world’s supply of Viagra)

[Side note our favorite Schnee femboy took after his mom, if he was on the list he'd be just below Harriet hehe].

A+ TIER Candidates for the Bubble Booty Brigade (BBB)

Glynda : Glynda is a professional huntress, she is a teacher and she's decked out in dominatrix gear, can I make it any clearer?

Salem : Salem is the original MILF, the thiccest witch of remnant , and also, she has magic and is technically a monster girl sooo... that gives her extra points (who would've guessed I like monster girls hehe).

The next entry might be blasphemous for some and for that I apologize but...

Blake and Kali : I'm sorry kitties, even though the belabooties are know world wide they are not yet in the BBB. Blake has the firmer booty because of her time in the Fang but Kali has the MILF bonus.

Because of their similarities and their diferences they tie for top of A+ tier.

S TIER The BUBBLE BOOTY BRIGADE

The three heavenly asses of remnant, only three girl stand a top the mountain of the perfect Bubble Booty and they are in order...

May Zedong : May has been depicted by the fandom as being really curvy, especially the cow udders she calls breasts, however she hides her curves under her clothes. The same applies to the fucking badonk she hides in her baggy pants, so much so in fact, that May should be number two of the BBB but because she's so shy about her body she's demoted to number three, still, being a member of the Brigade is a blesing of itself.

Emerald Sustrai : As stated in the previous entry Em should be number three, but because May is so shy and Emerald isn't they swaped places. Em is number two because of one singular thing, she knows her ass is her best atribute, and she fucking flaunts it, she knows she can make men and futas pitch tents, and make women stare like horndogs just by walking past them. Not only that, but she wear clothes that accentuate her ass from short shorts to miniskirts, she knows how to make anyone undeserving cream themselves just by swaying her hips a little and winking. Her seduction skills boosted her above everyone else except one.

NORA VALKYRIE THE ONE TRUE BUBBLE BOOTY OF REMNANT

Every single step a jiggle, every single jump or tiny hop and the world stops to stare, every time she passes by jaws hit the floor, every man woman and futa either wants Nora or wants to be Nora.

Nora's voluptuous cheeks are legendary and the worst part of it all is: She does know the effect she has on people, and she gives zero shits about it.

Because no one is worthy of her divine ass cheeks, except for two men: Jaune Arc and Lie Ren.

She's found her studs the ones who care for her, love her, give her the world AND the ones who have huge bitch breaking cocks to fuck her into the sheets like rutting animals.Every.Single.Night.

Every day of her life is one big teasing session for her studs, she purposefully wear skirts just short enough to see the glorious bounce, she always finds excuses to bend over, she sits on their laps as often as possible.

Just so she can have the mind blowing three ways she has every night.

All hail Booty Queen Nora Valkyrie.

Now everyone thank you for being patient this was something i spent a few days writing (like 3-4 days) and I only wrote this for that time so I hope y'all like it.

Some chacters are missing I know, but I really am comfortable with how it is now.

As always this SHOULD NOT AFFECT YOUR WRITING.

This was a thought experiment of mine, and like I always say in this sort of thing WRITE HOW YOU WANT TO WRITE I hope this was clear.

Thanks for reading and please if you so desire share it with friends.

But for now see ya!

[shorkbrian]

QUESTION!! Do you think kirishima, and bakugou (separate pwease) love there darling for there personality or are just doing it for there body? I feel like kirishima would love them lowkey for personality only but gets worked up and excited when he sees there body bc he knows only he gets his love like that. Bakugou? I’m iffy with him on that. Thank u wuv!

 Well, they both have similar idk... ideals? hmmm but lowkey hmmm idk how else to describe so

Bakugou would first notice his darling because of their personality. They might be rough and ready-to-rumble, always willing to fight and not hesitating to throw the first punch. Maybe they’re loud and brash and snappy, just like him. Whatever he dishes out, they can take it, throw it right back in his face. It’d probably shock him the first time, make him do a double take. From then on his attention would be constantly drawn to them, always trying to rile them up or doing aggressive shit that they would call him out for - during training he likes to grapple and wrestle, he knows they can take it.

But maybe.... his darling is shy? sweet, gentle. Like Midoriya, but something is different. He’d probably be marching over, on his way to bully Midoriya when he spots them - so nervous and gentle and kind and pretty. He’ll feel that sadistic urge bubble up inside him; he wants to see them cowering from him, covered in tears and snot and doing whatever he tells them to do. Bakugou would never admit that the softer, calmer side of himself grew to care for them, wanted to hold and cuddle and provide.

I don’t think Bakugou would be someone who gets easily distracted by physical features - sure, a lot of people have nice bodies, but Bakugou doesn’t care. He only starts to notice the appeal of the human body after meeting his darling.

It won’t matter what they look like. But since Katsuki is such a big health nut he will constantly be judging and checking and snooping to how his darling is taking care of themselves. Not eating enough? They’ll get bonked in the back of the head with a granola bar. Stress eating? Bakugou will come throw whatever his darling is eating into the trash, ripping it out of their hands and grumbling about how bad chips are. (God he would be sooooo annoying I would just wanna wring his little neck)

Pray that he never squirrels you away, keeping you on a strict, healthy diet (not too little, but not too much either) He’d be super into forcing you to workout with him, for the sake of good health. Truthfully he just wants to see you in tight workout gear.

He might even try to rip it off later.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kirishima would notice his darling first and foremost because of their cute little body. He sees them walk into class and immediately gets smitten, asking his classmates who the new kid is and what their name is and if anyone knew them could Kiri please get their number? Kaminari and Sero’s horny chatter about “fuckable celebrities” makes the redhead very in-tune with what he finds attractive. And honestly? He loves it all. Tall, short, thin, round? Yes to everything.

BUT when he saunters over at lunch and slides his tray next to theirs, he finds out how charming they are, and he is absolutely enthralled. Kiri could sit and listen to them talk for hours on end - he thinks that they would probably be able to make algebra seem pleasant just by talking about it. The dude wants to just sit and bask in their presence for as long as he can, likes the subtle whiffs of their scent, finds the flash of their teeth as they smile to be so adorable!

He notices that his darling doesn’t seem to be super aware of the effect their body has on everyone, specifically him. They’ll lean across their desk as they chat with a friend, school uniform stretching perfectly over their butt. Maybe they have a tendency to always be falling asleep, unaware of the eyes oogling their form. Kiri always is blessed enough to catch them stretching, legs spread wide or twisted in some complicated position. It drives him absolutely wild with desire.

To put it simply, Kiri is head-over-heels with every single aspect of their being. He doesn’t deny his massive crush (obsession), and it’s almost common knowledge that if he could, Kirishima would absolutely fuck the shit out of his darling. He gets teased more about the fact that he would be an absolute pushover for them afterwards. The redhead would carry them afterwards, kiss their forehead, make them hot soothing drinks and cuddle them to death as they talked about everything and nothing.

If only his darling wasn’t so oblivious, maybe his dream could become a reality. 

Oh well, it’s not like there weren’t other ways for him to get what he wants.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In short, there are sooooo many ways to write them. I think a villain Bakugou would actually be really mean and into degrading and humiliating his darling about their body, shaming them for things he actually is quite fond of.

Villain Kiri would get absolutely enamored by his darling, but for some reason they dress in the ugliest, most horrible clothing ever? And they’re always bundled up and they look so lumpy and weird but ah, he doesn’t care. They were nice to him that one time (genuinely nice) and so he’s kidnapping them. When Villain Kiri gets them home an d cuts those ugly clothes to pieces, he finds himself the most delicious treat underneath. Proceeds to punish his darling for trying to hide themselves away like that, but also can’t help but go easy and be soft because he’s the only one who’s ever seen them without all those layers.

AHHHHH see there are just so!! many!! possibilities!!

I am stopping myself now, fingers? no typey.

thenk

[pigtownchronicles]

Chapter 2.7 - Smoke and Shadow

Upstairs that evening, Marshall had Kyle assist with cooking dinner, and after they’d eaten, he led him into the living room. There, against the wall, was another humidor full of Marshall’s private stash of cigars, and hanging beside it, a rack with his pipes. He pulled out two cigars, handed one to Kyle, and soon they were on the couch, kissing and swapping smoke, and it wasn’t long before Marshall stood up and dropped his jeans.

Kyle realized it was the first time he’d seen his new Master naked, and it caught him by surprise. Where he’d expected a cock, there wasn’t one at all. With a bit more investigation, he realized that Marshall had a pussy instead, buried within his pubic hair. “You uh...huh,” he managed to say, and Marshall let out a laugh.

“Don’t worry boy, I can make all the equipment I need,” he said, “took a deep breath off his cigar, pulling the smoke deep inside him, and he watched as something pushed its way out, a silvery cock growing from Marshall’s crotch, made entirely of smoke, with two low hanging balls to match. “That enough for you to handle, boy?”

“Uh...yes Sir, I...I mean...I haven’t...”

“Yes you have, you just don’t remember it yet. Let daddy remind you,” Marshall said, and pushed him towards the sofa.

It turned out to be plenty. Marshall pinned him down on the sofa and fucked Kyle’s ass, sucking on his cigar, pumping more and more smoke into him with his cock until he came, and then, he flipped Kyle over, and rode his new apprentice's cock to completion, leaving them lying there sweaty, room fogged with smoke, and he pulled him close. “You’re a hot little fucker boy, glad you walked your way over to me that evening, and not some other big, burly bear.”

Kyle, heaving for breath, realized after the fact he’d lost his virginity, and hadn’t even really noticed. All of it had felt so natural, so vital. So exhausting. It hadn't even been his virginity, had it? He could recall now, all the other, many times he and his Master had fucked around before--like reality was still knitting itself together around him. He laid back on the couch, nursing the butt of his cigar, while Marshall went into the bedroom, and a few minutes later, came out dressed again, this time in leather pants, vest, boots and smoking a sizable pipe. “Come on boy, get your ass up.”

“What?”

“You’re in Pigtown now--you thinking you’re going to sleep? Good luck. You won’t get more than a nap in before you need another smoke.”

Wait, then...are you saying we can’t sleep?”

“Well, not ‘can’t’. Come on, I have some gear for you boy. You represent me now, out on the street, so I expect you to always look your best.”

Gear, apparently, meant a leather jock, boots, harness, and not much else. Kyle refused at first, and Marshall responded by simply manipulating the smoke flowing through him now, and forced him to dress himself in what was laid out. “You’re mine now, boy, for the foreseeable future. You don’t mind, do you?” he said, cupping a hand under Kyle’s chin, and giving him a deep kiss. The pipe smoke didn’t just taste different--it felt different. Somehow, he could...sense the slight shift in flavor, in density, in temperature. “I promise, I’ll never make you look anything other than the handsome, fuckable man you are, agreed?”

Kyle was still reluctant, but once they hit the sidewalk, he realized that he was actually not nearly as kinky as quite a few others on the dark street, going from club to alley to sauna and back again. Many looked, but no one touched--it was clear, somehow, that he was Marshall’s boy, and that meant they would need permission to use him, Kyle assumed. They made their way to a small bar, the air saturated with smoke, and Marshall started introductions. After a drink, he started passing him around, and Kyle found himself sharing smoky kisses with men whose name he could barely remember. He was fucked by some, blew others, the drinks piling on with the cigars, until it all became a blur, and next thing he knew, he woke up next to Marshall in their bed, head throbbing, throat creaking, and aching for smoke.

Marshall was already up, and passed him the cigar he had ready. Kyle sucked in as much as he could, feeling a bit more human after a few minutes, and realized it was morning, but he had no recollection of making it back here. “I...must have drunk more than I thought,” he said.

“Oh no, it wasn’t the drink, just the good ol’ Pigtown Hangover. Happens every night, you get used to it.”

“Every night?” Kyle asked.

“I said, we got to sleep somehow. Now come on, it’s time for breakfast, and you’re cooking, boy.”

Kyle wasn’t a great cook, but he could fry some eggs and make toast--it seemed to be enough to satisfy Marshall. Once they’d eaten, they went downstairs to get the shop ready to open up, and Kyle had a moment to check his phone. His only real important message was from Jim, asking him if he’d heard anything about Marlon yet.

He’d completely forgotten all over again. He thought about what had happened to him over the last day, what Marshall had...done to him, and the story that Jim had told him, about Marlon disappearing into a shadow, seemed all the more possible now, after what he’d seen. Maybe Marshall would know something, even. He told Jim to come visit the shop, he might know someone who could help. A couple of hours later, between regulars, while Marshall was showing Kyle the intricacies of blowing smoke rings and hardening them, Jim came through the door, asking what he knew.

Kyle explained the situation to Marshall, and Jim retold him what had happened that night after leaving Depot the week before. Around the time he mentioned the shadows, Kyle felt the smoke in his master quicken beside him, and he looked over at him. Outside, he seemed unaffected, but he definitely knew something. Jim finished the story, how some police officers had appeared and helped him get back to his car without Marlon, and the next day, it was like he had never even existed. 

Marshall sat back, took a long drag off his cigar, and pushed a cloud towards the ceiling. “Wish I could help you, young man, but I have nothing that can help you with this one.”

Kyle tried to say something, point out that was clearly a lie from what he had felt, but before he could even speak, he felt some lingering smoke in his mouth knot up around his tongue and gave it a squeeze. Marshall, apparently, was not interested in what Kyle might have to say.

“But...Kyle said you might know something.”

“I know a lot of things. What I can offer you are two options that you have right now. One, you can forget what you saw. It will be easy, once you decide to do it. I would suggest you not show your face around Pigtown again, if you do this, but I give that suggestion to most everyone.” Marshall paused, almost whether he was considering whether to even continue. “The other option would be to go to Precinct 27 and file a report.”

“I already tried to call the cops, but I couldn’t even prove he existed. They treated me like I was crazy.”

“That’s why I told you to go to Precinct 27. It’s just down the street here. They will be more sympathetic than I can be, and far more so than your usual cop. I wouldn’t choose to deal with them myself, but that’s your choice to make.”

Jim looked over at Kyle, who thought about trying to undo the knot around his tongue and get Marshall to tell them everything, but he didn’t. His loyalties had shifted in ways he hadn’t quite expected. He trusted his master. If there was a reason he wasn’t speaking about it, it was probably a good one.

“Now, unless you’d like to purchase something, I’d suggest you leave.”

Kyle nodded to Jim, and his friend left the shop, frustrated and feeling even more confused than before. The knot around Kyle’s tongue relaxed, and he asked, “You know more than that, what didn’t you want to tell him?”

“I know a lot of possibilities. I don’t know anything for sure. What it sounds like, is that Shadow got himself out of jail.”

“Shadow?”

“Acquaintance. We have different interests, different targets. Never really had a reason to fight, or cooperate. I respect his abilities and his autonomy so long as he respects mine.”

“Why are you bullshitting me about this? Just tell me what the hell is going on.”

“There’s a lot about this place, about the people here, that you don’t know, little apprentice,” Marshall said, “A lot of history. But the thing about history is that it’s just a story. Who’s telling the story matters just as much as anything else. Maybe if we see Shadow one night, he’ll tell you the story himself. I don’t know everything about it, just what gets passed around as gossip between the regulars.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re right, it isn’t.”

Kyle glowered at him, “You’re treating me like a kid.”

“You’re barely a resident here, apprentice,” Marshall said, “That boy there, he’s still freshmeat. I gave him what he needed to know. What could actually help him. The precinct...I don’t agree with them entirely, but I can respect their desire for order, even if their methods are questionable. But then, they were cops, they can’t help themselves.” 

“Wait, they were cops? I thought you said it was a precinct?”

Marshall shook his head, “I wish I knew how to tell you all of this so that it would make sense. I wish I could just give you everything I’ve seen since I came here, but I can’t. You have to see it for yourself. You'll have your own story before long--now come on, get back to work.”

[gotmilk5101520]

Trollhunters: Tales of Arcadia Watch Episode 7 To Catch a Changeling

How to catch a changeling for idiots.

“All right”

“Do your worst”

The Sword of Daylight. A weapon to kill trolls and cutting watermelon.

“What is this mockery?” Me seeing stupid shit.

“You want to take it for a spin?”

*Cries in Troll*

Yeah, no one will notice.

“Ridiculous garment” Agree.

“Sorry. Draal was training Jim”

“Draal?” “Training?”

“Yeah, he sorta made a home in my basement to look out for the place”

“Of course. When a troll is defeated in combat, it’s completely natural for them to take refuge in the victor’s domicile” So, this happened before?

And it’s gone.

“It was, eh... It was out of focus, and i did forget to turn on the flash” Once again, i went back.

And the flash was on.

Have some Jim is done with this bushigal face.

“I’ve not left the Heartstone in a century” This is what it’s like to be force to go somewhere, cause they say it’ll be worth it. But it’s really not. Wow Vendel is becoming the most relatable character in this series.

“I hate conspiracies”

“That is why i am dedicated to rooting them out” If Trump hired Blinky to root out all the conspiracies of him Blinky will end up making them worse for Trump. #LetTrumphireBlinky

“If it’s everyone, it must be a conspiracy!” I would say Donald Trump, but that would be insult to Blinky.

“Later”

“Oh, no. Claire”

“Claire? A changeling?” Changeling Claire au.

“No. When i thought i was gonna die, i wrote Claire a letter, too, and told her everything”

“Everything?’

“Everything” And what is this “Everything” you speak of? What did you write?

“There you are!” Mission: Avoid Claire. Mission Fail.

“You didn’t run into Miss. Janeth yet, did you?”

“Is she mad i couldn’t make rehearsal yesterday?

“Something kinda came up”

“Heh heh” Good of the episode to put flashbacks in for me, so i don’t have to do it myself. Also Jim implies that last episode happened yesterday (Out of universe, yeah it did) But i thought about it and today would be Monday, and yesterday was Sunday. Jim and Draal’s fight happened on a school day meaning that it was Friday. Jim and Toby getting arrested and Jim making the letters were on a Thursday, and Jim and Toby finding out about Nomura was a Wednesday. And then the school trip to the museum was a Tuesday.

“Steve filled in. That’s what understudies are for, right?”

“Uh, you haven’t heard?

“Steve isn’t the understudy anymore. You are”

“She’s tired of you never showing up”

“So she made Steve Romeo. And trust me, Steve isn’t happy about it either”

“As i was saying, every algebraic equation requires balance”

“Not unlike, say, actors in an ensemble!”

“For instance”

“Every piece of this equation plays an important role”

“That is, unless variable X”

“is a zero”

“X has no role”

“X doesn’t show up”

“X lets the equation down”

“Then, the entire play-”

“I mean, equation- falls part!”

“It becomes impossible!”

“Mr. Lake”

“How would you solve this mathematical problem”

Yeah i’m at a lost.

“Promoting Steve to Romeo wasn’t your idea. Plus, he’s been trying to leave” “Tell me about it. After class he told me off. Steve told me off. Steve. Of all people”

“And, honestly, i’d rather be on stage with you”

I’ve seen that face before. Marinette made that face, too, when Adrien touched her shoulder at the end of The Evillustrator.

New meme template.

“So, we find another changeling”

“Stop saying that so loudly”

“Do you mind?”

“Whatever” Like i said, his name is Changeling.

“Ailment or curse?”

“Oi, numbskull! I;m supposed to answer it!”

“But i already did answer it” Wait are Rot and Gut like one troll sharing a body or no?

“You’re gonna need a gaggletack”

“Unfortunately, you see, we’re a bit short on those. Very hard to get”

“But i got a bag of them right here”

“What in the world? If you’ll excuse us for one moment”

“Ey, what are you doing? I’m trying to drive up the price over here”

“I thought we were trying to help these nice lads” Rot doesn’t understand Capitalism. Good boy.

“Gaggletack?”

“Rare artifact”

“Exceedingly rare. An object of great mystery”

“It’s a horseshoe”

“Made of pure iron”

“Why would you put such a precious thing on a horse’s foot?” Great, what other things are “Rare artifacts” to trolls?

“Beware. Changelings are swapped with their human counterparts at birth. So, it is likely these troll-pretenders have dwelt amongst you for decades”

“They could be anyone”

“Used car salesmen”

“Tax collectors”

“Television executives”

“Donald Trump”

“Yes, especially Donald Trump”

Nope.

Nope.

“Shall i hear more, or shall i speak-”

“Steve!”

“Hey! Who did that? And can i leave the play now?” “No”

Another new meme template.

Nope, nope, and nope.

“You, uh, try this out on Mr. Strickler?”

“Come on. You really think he is one?”

Yes.

So close.

“Here you go, Mr. Strickler. Here’s your horseshoe back”

“Thank you, Miss. Nunez, but that belongs to Mr. Lake”

“Oh. Well that would explain the flying horseshoes” Wait “Flying horseshoes”? You mean Claire noticed the horseshoe that hit Steve earlier?

“So not going to ask” Jim should look on the bright side of this. Claire touched the gaggletack, that means she’s not a changeling, and that the real reason she invited him to her house was not to secretly kill him. Oh wait. That’s not till later.

“Claire” “Still here” When people forget you’re here too. Trust me, i know that feeling.

“You’re still coming home with me, right?”

“Oh, right!”

“Claire and i are gonna go too her house... for math stuff”

Toby is surprised by how that escalated quickly. And it’s not even the second half of season 1 yet.

Series creator, director of The Shape of Water, and the man that said “Monster Fucker Rights” Guillermo Del Toro. Voicing a dentist.

“For the glory of Merlin”

“Daylight is mine to make babies ogle”

“He really likes you” Jim would be a great dad. Wink wink Claire. Wink wink.

“Wonder what he’s thinking about right now” “No idea what’s going through my brothers mind right now” “I’m going to get kidnapped next episode and you will never see me again for a long time. Goo goo”

‘Wow, this novocaine you numbed my mouth with is really strong”

“I can’t even feel my hands”

“That’s because i didn’t inject you with novocaine, dear”

“I hit you up with a potent paralyzer”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, it’s not everyday someone comes in with a gaggletack” The moment i saw this.

“Why don’t i take that, sweetie? It’s not very hygienic” I knew she was a changeling.

“See, the equation only contains powers of X that are non-negative integers”

“Does that makes sense”

“Is it supposed to?”

“Nah. That’s why it’s called algebra” Algebra never makes sense. It makes Kingdom Hearts make sense. #ReplacealgebrawithKingdomHearts

“I realized you’ve got a lot more going on than people think”

“I do”

“I do?” You may now kiss the bride. Okay guys, Jim and Claire are married.

“You can’t just write a letter like this and not expect a conversation. If you had written something like “I’ve most likely been slaughtered by a troll” I would’ve said: Understandable, have a nice day” “Wait, really?” “No! You are lucky, you’re cute and everything” “I... Uh... It’s... Wait what?” “Nothing”

“You have to battle monsters?”

“Saving the world in which we know? What monsters are you battling? Are they fuckable?” “Well- Wait what?” “Uh... What monsters are you battling?”

Have some Claire being done with her (Not yet, almost, but not really, not for another season) boyfriend’s bushigal.

“I mean, we all have stuff we’ve got to go through”

“But are you in some kind of trouble?”

“I... Yeah! Metaphoric”

“I was...”

“In an exploring stage”

“Not successful” Let it be known that Claire thinks Jim has depression, if not suicidal tendencies. And i did not get this from the wiki or TvTropes.

“There’s some sentimental stuff at the end which i thought was... kinda sweet” Umm. Can we read the full letter? I want to know what he said.

“Really?”

“If you ever need someone to talk to about “the monsters” you can talk to me”

“It can be our secret” Yeah. There are going to be a lot of secrets you two will be sharing. Also, you two could’ve kissed here as well. But whatever you tried i guess.

“Halt, changeling!”

“Or else my giant friend will tear you limb from limb!”

“Maybe later” These things always happens.

“Oh, it burns!”

“Oh, it’s just a painting” Paintings don’t kill trolls confirm.

Huh. After an entire episode of using it on everyone, and making me think it didn’t work, it actually does work.

“What’s that?” “Laughing gas”

*Laughs in Troll*

“Laughs in Troll*

“Hello? Wait how did you get my number?”

“Hey! What’s up, Nunez?”

“Hey Colby”

“Someone named Woby?” Claire can’t remember Toby’s name.

“Fighting monsters again?”

“Who are you, Jim Lake” Claire is getting sus.

Imagine walking into this.

“Perish, you worm!” “Wait, before you kill me, i have something to ask. You know Nomura, right?” “Yes” “Well she has a history with a troll named Draal. Do you know what their history is?” “No, this is the first time i’m hearing about it” “Oh, okay. Thank you. You can die now” “You’re welcome. Wait what?”

“Do you have some magic artifact that can clean this mess?”

“Yes. I believe it’s called a Tobias” Translation: “Clean it yourself”

“It appears Nomura has gotten her way”

“Another changeling has been chosen”

“And look who it is” “Enrich? Enquran? Enquin?” “Oh, for the love of. It says Enrique!” “Oh. Who’s that?” “Claire Nunez’s little brother!” “Which one is Claire again?” “The one you haven’t met!” “Well no wonder i don’t know who that is. I never met them”

Anyone is a changeling. Maybe i’m a changeling.

So who’s the worst babysitter? Jim or Marinette?

[cuntess-carmilla]

Being chronically ill has made me really disgusted or just bitter regarding the body positive movement, EVEN when it's not imbeciles whose body positivity is "everyone is fuckable :D" only.

Like, ok, I don't like how I look from the neck down too much and I'd like some subtle changes on my face, sure, but even if I looked exactly like I want to and were to never visually age, I'd STILL hate my body.

I don't hate my body because I find it ugly, even though I've been There a lot of my life too to the extreme of suicidality over my appearance alone. I hate my body because my body hated ME first, continues to make me miserable, and won't ever stop making me miserable until the day I leave it behind.

And you want me to love it? Fuck, you want to tell me to love it by appealing to me through "accepting" how my body is in its natural form?

It's so obvious body abled people see human bodies as living aesthetics, whether they want to abolish the socio-political implications of that or not. My body in its "natural state" doesn't just LOOK one way or another.

My body in its natural state, which CANNOT BE CHANGED OR IMPROVED since it's a genetic, permanent, cureless illness, AND WILL ONLY GET WORSE, is nothing but pain, pain, pain. Even if I'm yet again ignoring my pain because if I think about it too much I start wanting to die, and that day I feel I look like the goth goddess I've always wanted to be.

You want me to love this disaster of an objectively defective body? That was BORN defective? That's disabled in a way that I'm pretty sure the majority of people who have this can't derive any "pride" from the way I can perfectly be proud of my autism? I want it fixed! I do want my body to be fixed! Call me an eugenics apologist or whatever, I don't give a shit. I WANT MY DEFECTIVE BODY FIXED.

At most we find some affection for our bodies in the sense of caring for them because our bodies are in pain, the same way one takes care of a sick loved one, but that's fucking it. It ruins so many lives. I cannot, will not, I REFUSE to take pride on the torture I've been put through that I never chose.

And you know what? The chronically ill people who, sincerely, bless their beautiful hearts, have managed to love their bodies in the way I described, will be the FIRST to validate and defend the rest of us who do loathe our bodies against people who try to coerce us into performing "positivity" because our "negativity" makes their self-centered abled asses uncomfortable.

It's not just because those other ill people know how difficult it is to love a broken body that can't and won't ever be fixed, but because, even if they do love their own bodies, they don't love their bodies BECAUSE of their illness, but DESPITE their illness, which is not at all how at least I relate to my autism.

This illness hasn't made me strong uwu or resilient uwu or a better person uwu. It's just ruined my fucking life, wasted away my youth, and made me miss out on so many things. It LITERALLY makes me weaker.

Body abled people complain about the solitude of quarantine, the way it's so easy to go insane from the isolation, the boredom, the lack of activity, and from feeling like a prisoner of their own homes. Guess what! That's just how life is for too many chronically ill people, pandemic or no pandemic! It's actually really hard for me to have seen hordes of abled people whine about that without rolling my eyes. Oh, what a tragedy that'll last you tops a couple of years.

My life hasn't changed. I've always been locked down in my room unless it's absolutely necessary for me to leave the house, WHICH I DREAD, not because I wouldn't love to have a life outside these tight 4 walls, but because I know that once I come home, even the few times a year I go out to do something I like, I'll be DESTROYED. I don't know how I ever made it through college.

I've always been on lockdown cracking my brain trying to find ways to entertain myself with whatever the fuck I can make up. Now you guys realize how much creativity that takes, huh? After years of asking us "But what do you even DO at home?" Ah, don't get me started on how it is those days when I'm still so depressingly, suicide-inducingly bored, but I'm also so fatigued I can't even get up to pee, let alone watch TV or YT videos. I have to make up TV shows in my mind in silence as I lay in bed alone and still.

If you ever ask me online to be "proud" not of my achievements themselves, but of all the silent, invisible, delegitimized pain I battled against to get them, that nobody believed me about?

If you're lucky that my chronic fatigue is acting up too much then you'll get blocked immediately and I'll vent post about abled people's stupidity. If I have the energy, you're gonna get told in detail how to eat my whole shit. In the unlikely case that it's offline, I'm just gonna punch you and yes it'll be worth at least a week of my own hand being a skin-bag of tangled bones lol.

Bitch, even the tiny "body neutrality" movement focuses on fucking aesthetics. It's "all bodies should be neutral" which I'd agree with! IF BODIES WEREN'T MORE THAN JUST APPEARANCE. My body isn't "neutral" no matter how it looks, my body is literally my enemy.

My body is a prison I can only escape if I jump from a tall building and OH BOY have I thought about doing that many, many times, crying silently and still in bed, regardless of how well my life is going in EVERY other aspect.

You can just fucking TELL when abled people have never in their lives thought about what existing in a disabled body feels like. They know we exist, but they've never been at least curious of what our bodies feel like. If the disability is INVISIBLE since it's NOT AESTHETICALLY DIFFERENT and they think about bodies as aesthetics (which affects my visibly disabled comrades too and NOT in a good way because disabled people CAN'T WIN) then they don't even think of us as having any real hardships. They LOVE to forget we're suffering.

Fuck you bitches.

[celestial-depths]

Dracula (2020)

(spoilers) I’m kinda sad that I didn’t watch this one with one with a bingo chart or a drinking game. Even with all of its plot mutations and character updates, Netflix’s Dracula (2020) is pretty much exactly what I expected from a Mark Gatiss & Steven Moffat take on the classic source material: a self-congratulatory, over-produced adaptation obsessed with its own “cleverness” and with its overbearing main character, sprinkled with juuuust enough moments of genuine innovation to make it really sting when it all amounts to a big dud. If you have seen Jekyll, Sherlock, and the worst of Moffat’s Doctor Who episodes, you know exactly what I mean. If you don’t, I refer you to this entertaining and ridiculously long video essay (that absolutely merits every second of its 1 h 49 min runtime) by YouTuber hbomberguy: https://youtu.be/LkoGBOs5ecM; even though I don’t completely agree with all of his points, he does make a strong, multifaceted argument on why, despite his admitted talent, Moffat’s writing usually ends up sucking hard. Anyway. I think the first episode of the three-part Dracula series does make some kind of case for itself. It sets a distinctive mood, includes some pretty solid performances, tells a coherent story, and introduces some truly impressive and creepy horror imagery. I also enjoyed the inclusion of Sister Agatha - even though her being revealed as the Van Helsing of this version is definitely one of those Gatiss & Moffat moments that the writers thought would be much more of oooooh moment than it actually ended up being - who did serve as a formidable opponent for Dracula for the first two episodes. As I said, Moffat tends to anchor his stories to an overbearing lead around whom all other characters revolve, and while that’s is definitely the case here as well, Sister Agatha does stir up the dynamics by refusing to dance to his tune. Still, the writing is also riddled with the usual Moffat plagues, which stay mostly at bay in episode 1 but end up becoming more of an issue in the second episode. The second episode, which fully takes place on the doomed ship Demeter’s journey to Britain (which I believe has been the subject of a horror film script that has been stuck in Hollywood’s development hell for years and years - I wonder if it’ll ever get made now that the story concept was basically executed here?), is overlong, and it’s weighed down by an unnecessary framing device that develops into an unsurprising plot twist, and by the general lack of interest in creating emotional investment in any other character besides the two leads. Just like the ship, the story drifts in the fog for ages but almost makes it to shore in one piece, only to be sunken down by the most stupid thing I’ve watched in a very long time: episode three. Yikes. I do my best to give credit when credit is due and point of the merits of things I overall disliked, but I honestly can’t say that there was anything in the finale that I liked. It’s a mess, and not even a hot one. It’s more like they dug up the long-dead remains of Jekyll, carved out the most awful bits, reheated them, and then left them out to cool down again. I could go on and point out every little thing I found exasperating about the episode, from the regrettable time jump to the lack of thematic focus, to Van Helsing going on and on about the “illogical” nature of Dracula’s weaknesses like it’s remotely interesting, to the clumsy narrative structure that picks up and abandons plot threads like it’s an indecisive customer in a thrift shop, to Zoe Van Helsing becoming just another addition to Moffat’s long line of seemingly “strong” female characters who are rendered basically powerless by the overwhelming charms of the male lead, and all the way to what must be my least favourite horror trope - a paramilitary, pseudo-scientific secret organization set on capturing and studying monsters (seriously, can we please retire this unexciting trope that has never once improved any horror property?) - but for now I’m only going to address the one that made me groan the hardest: Lucy. If you are at all familiar with the novel or any of its numerous adaptations, you might also be aware of the conversation around Lucy and Mina, the novel’s two female characters who both embody Victorian ideas about women and sexuality. A popular reading is that Lucy, the flirty little minx with various suitors who ends up being seduced and corrupted by Dracula, is the whore to Mina’s virgin, which reflects the narrow, black-and-white, judgmental attitudes towards women who stray from the Victorian ideal of the virtuous, demure woman with no appetite for sex or male attention outside marriage. In that sense, the 2020 incarnation of Lucy is a faithful adaptation of the character from the book. And that’s precisely the problem! Just because Bram Stoker’s book is sexist, it doesn’t mean that this version should be that as well. But it is, and oh god I hate it so much. Gatiss & Moffat’s Lucy is a glittery, uncaring thot who takes selfies and DMs strange men, because of course she is; shaming young women for liking sex, being beautiful, and enjoying attention is exactly the sort of thing men who cannot relate to women do when they’re trying to be insightful. And as if that wasn’t enough, they also give Lucy “depth” by making her resent her beauty in some way that remains woefully unexplored, because heaven forbid pretty girls should have any thoughts inside their head that aren’t directly related to being pretty. Even the shallow, dark edge they give to the character fails to bring her any sense of complexity and humanity, and she ends up being just a beautiful creature for men to gaze at in both adoration and condemnation. A beautiful creature who must ultimately be cruelly punished for the sin of being lovely and untameable. How’s that for some Victorian bullshit? More than anything, Dracula reads like a revue of Gatiss & Moffat’s (particularly Moffat’s) greatest and most recurring grievances as writers: a self-defeating attempt at outwitting the audience with “surprising” plot twists hammered awkwardly into the story at the cost of anything that might have made it good, ambitious world-building ideas left to die as soon as they’ve been introduced, an overreliance on a scene-chewing, dickish male lead character who’s supposed to be bad but, like, in a fuckable way, pointless queer-baiting that is guaranteed to elicit frustrated screams from certain parts of the internet, and terribly written female characters with inner worlds conceived by a middle-aged man who is evidently unable to imagine a woman whose every thought isn’t motivated by uncontrollable lust for aforementioned dickish male lead. Jesus.

[raendown]

A collaboration with the ever delight @sinyaru, though her art would definitely only get flagged here on tumblr. Follow the link to see the story with art!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 6542 Summary: Madara rather enjoys going to this new 'gymnasium' that Hashirama insisted on building. He doesn't really work out very much but how is he supposed to concentrate on exercise with Tobirama walking around look like that?

Edit: my fingers wanted to press buttons and make that word count look reeeaaaaaally big. Oops.

Lift

“He’s doing it again.”

Izuna lifted his head with a very tired expression, refusing to look over at something he had seen a hundred times before. He knew exactly what he would find if he did. Why did his brother insist on dragging him along for this shit when he was only going to spend the whole time mooning over that albino asshole? And why was Tobirama always here when they came? Either Madara had memorized the man’s workout schedule or he just never went home after work.

Duly ignoring the fact that he was being ignored in turn, Madara dabbed at the corners of his mouth to make sure he hadn’t started drooling again. Last time he’d sat and watched like this Tobirama had almost turned around and caught him with drool on his face. If he had then Madara would have ended his life right then and there. Some things were just too embarrassing to live with.

He really hoped Izuna hadn’t figured out that the only reason he made the other come with him to the indoor workout center was so it wouldn’t be suspicious that he showed up every time Tobirama did and yet never actually got around to working out himself. Madara snuck his own workouts in on his lunch breaks and during the nights when he couldn’t sleep; he never got around to it here in the actual gym because getting anything done with such a gorgeous specimen walking around sweaty and sleeveless was impossible. It just wasn’t fair how hot he was. Hashirama should make it illegal.

No, Hashirama could never know how desperate Madara was to get his tongue on that body. Or to have that tongue on his own body. Either would be appreciated.

“Spot me, Romeo.” Izuna shoved at his shoulder as he moved to lie down on the bench press.

Madara moved in to position without taking his eyes off of where Tobirama was still going through his warmup stretches. He had just gotten to the good part at the end where he rolled effortlessly up in to a handstand and then did pushups from that position. It was like a religious experience every time he got to witness it.

“Can you take your eyes off him for two damn seconds? If I drop this on my own face I’m going to make SURE you stay at the hospital for every hour it takes to heal me.”

“Quiet!” Madara shrieked, glaring down at his brother. “Don’t let him hear you!”

“Then spot me, damn it!” Izuna glared right back with equal fire.

He did have a good point though. As hard as it was, Madara forced himself to tear his eyes away so he could be a proper workout partner for a few minutes. Obviously he wouldn’t last very long, they both knew he would get distracted and go back to staring in short order, but when he did he would brace his arms with chakra so he could at least deflect the weight bar should it fall. Not the best plan but it was better than potentially getting both of them hurt.

As compensation for the annoyance he heaped on the younger man every time they came here Madara very generously allowed Izuna to throw what snarky comments he could in-between heaving for breath as he lifted perhaps more weight than he should have. Without chakra to enhance their muscles they were only stronger than most civilians because of the sheer amount of time they spent on their bodies. None of his insults were anything too creative or new anyway so it wasn’t that hard to let them roll off like the sweat rolling down the sides of his neck. Madara smirked and nodded along, letting him have his moment.

“What rep are you on?” a familiar voice asked from just over his shoulder. Madara startled so badly he knocked his brother’s elbow and only just barely managed to catch the bar so it didn’t crush his head. Swallowing nervously, he peeked over to see Tobirama staring back with a judgmental expression.

“Shut up! None of your business!” While he did refrain from dropping his face in to both hands with shame, it was a close call. Why did he have to fail at communicating with this man so consistently?

“Those machines are for public use,” Tobirama ground out. “Which means you have to share, Uchiha. Ugh. Just let me know when you’re finished. Everyone else just started their reps and I have things to do, I can’t hang around all day waiting.”

“Why not?”

Izuna snickered and Madara glanced down with narrowed eyes, trying to project his willingness to let this stupid weight bar drop.

“Unlike you, apparently, I have important things to do. I can’t spend every damn evening at the gym just hanging out.” Tobirama huffed and turned away, heading over to scout out the other machines while he waited, and Madara very carefully set the bar down in its resting position before covering his face to muffle a frustrated scream.

Patting him mockingly on the leg, Izuna snickered again. “Why are you like this?” he asked.

“I wish I knew,” Madara groaned in reply.

“You know you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Maybe you should try, oh I don’t know, not screaming in his face every time he gets near you?”

“I panic!” Scrubbing both hands down his face and dropping them, Madara sighed. “Every time he looks at me my stomach leaps up in to my throat and my brain falls out my ass and then I just start screaming so he won’t realize I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes wondering if he likes to hold hands.”

“Sweet Sage you’re hopeless. And a secret softy. I wonder what you might pay to stop me from marching over there and just telling him so I can end my own suffering.”

Madara slowed his movements just enough to give Izuna time to brace himself as he knocked the bar off its perch and stormed away in a huff. Dirty rotten no good brother. He could find a different spotter if he was going to be like that. Madara did a lap around the gym trying to figure out how to look busy before eventually settled on the floor mat Tobirama had just been using, pulling out some of the equipment to set the scene and then hunkering down to keep watch. He had to make sure Izuna didn’t actually follow up on that threat.

Fortune appeared to be smiling on him now, however, as Izuna had given up on the bench press without someone to spot him and moved away to quietly work with one of the rowing machines. Even better, Tobirama spotted the open bench and made his way over. Madara’s attention was immediately and completely given over to watching those glorious muscles and the way they shifted deliciously under all that pale skin while the other man loaded the bar with much more weight than Izuna had used. Those corded arms of his were far from just for show.

Built for speed and no stranger to training for it, Tobirama had recently been packing on quite a bit of muscle as well. As his favorite sparring partner Izuna had mentioned he was trying out a new combat style for no other reason than to see if his body could take it. Madara was of the opinion that you shouldn’t try to fix what wasn’t broken but he was far from stupid enough to say so, especially when he personally was getting the most out of this change in pace.

Had there ever been a more fuckable human being than Senju Tobirama? Madara was pretty sure there had not. The fact that such a perfect body came packaged with a brilliant mind, a family-oriented heart, and more biting wit than Madara could hope to parry in any given argument only served to make him more desirable.

If only Madara could close his dumb mouth for two seconds he might have even been able to finagle at least one date to soothe his stupid yearning heart.

So caught up in his admittedly creepy habit of staring, he failed to pay attention to anything else beyond those flexing arms until it was too late. When Tobirama suddenly paused in the middle of his third rep and Madara looked around to figure out what might have distracted him he happened to look in to the mirrors that lined one entire wall of the gym – Hashirama’s idea, something about providing visual encouragement for the people who used the facilities. In the mirror he found the image of Tobirama’s head tilted up and back to use the reflective surface. Using it to meet Madara’s hungry stare head on.

He’d been caught.

Tobirama gave him no time to escape, using the few moments when he was frozen in horror to narrow those pretty red eyes of his, set the bar down, and crook a finger in his direction. Madara swung his head from side to side just to make sure it was him the man was calling over. Not at all ready to face his doom, he stood up and shuffled over reluctantly. Hopefully Izuna wasn’t looking. He really didn’t want his only little brother to watch him die doing something embarrassing like saying “thank you” while Tobirama crushed his head between those glorious thighs.

When he shuffled over with his head bowed in childlike shame – more to hide his embarrassment than because he was actually sorry for looking – the other man curled himself in to a sitting position and indicated the weights that Madara was now standing next to.

“You get that side?” was all he said before he began removing the ones on his end.

After flustering for a moment Madara figured he might as well do as he’d been asked. Whatever was happening was definitely worth it for the chance to see those muscles from close up. Every time Tobirama lifted one of them to set it aside his arms flexed and Madara’s heart did a backflip inside his chest. For each one the other man pulled off Madara took away the corresponding weight in front of him, keeping the bar balanced so it wouldn’t fall on either of their innocent toes, until finally everything had been put away.

He was utterly confused to see Tobirama lay down on the bench and get in to position as though he intended to press the bar with nothing on it, even more confused when the man looked at him very pointedly without saying anything for a full minute.

“What?” he grumbled eventually.

“Get on,” Tobirama said.

“Um…huh?”

“Sit on the bar.”

“But I don’t – okay! Okay! Don’t give me that face, I’m doing it. Even if you’re being weird. I mean, you’re already on the part that you’re supposed to sit on. Am I going to get in trouble for this because I think this technically counts as abusing the equipme–WOAH!”

Cut off right in the middle of his anxious rambling, Madara had to windmill both arms just to keep his balance as Tobirama settled his grip and lifted the bar, human occupant and all. His body rose steadily in to the air, held for a moment, and then lowered back down just as steadily with nary a twitch. Underneath him Tobirama’s face was held in a grimace of concentration offset by the single bead of sweat dribbling down his temple. Despite their proximity and all the efforts he had put in to not being obvious Madara was helpless to do anything but crane his neck and stare below himself with awe. Those arms should be considered lethal weapons on visuals alone.

Worse was the fact that Tobirama refused to look away from him, holding his gaze like a challenge and quirking his lips up in that knowing smirk that had always driven the general populace mad. For most people it was an annoyingly smug look that meant they were about to be told exactly why and how their mistake had been the stupidest thing to ever happen within the bounds of Konoha. For Madara it meant he was going to spend the next half hour trying to conceal an erection while holding up his end of a screaming match, usually somewhere very public.

Still with no idea what Tobirama was actually up to or how this odd little scene was meant to play out, Madara only barely resisted the urge to squirm while he watched the impressive display of strength, sticking himself in place with a touch of chakra just in case the distraction was too much. And then, because apparently he hated himself, because he was a doomed individual who lacked any sort of brain filter, he spat out his thoughts without considering them first.

“Kami that’s hot. I bet you could hold me up against the wall for hours.”

The bar underneath him faltered, still not unsteady but pausing in the repetitive up and down. Madara burned from the inside out as his own words finally registered when he saw the staggered look on Tobirama’s face.

“Wait! No! I didn’t mean–! You heard nothing Senju! NOTHING!” In his panic he lost all semblance of concentration and the precaution he had taken with his chakra was immediately rendered pointless as he lost control and pitched over backwards.

Sending him, of course, straight down on top of the other man’s body. And when he managed to sit up he was, of course, straddled directly over Tobirama’s lap.

In his last life he must have done something horrible, terrible, despicable, utterly unforgivable. It was the only explanation. Karma hated him down to the roots. Madara very much wished he could reach back in to whatever previous life that had been and throttle himself for the trouble now. Clearly erasing his own existence would be less painful than whatever method by which death was about to find him, whether it be at Tobirama’s hand or choking on his own airways as he scrambled to swing one leg over and stand up. Doing so ground his ass against some very interesting parts of Tobirama that, no matter how hard he tried not to be, he was still very interested in.

His entire life flashed before his eyes when Tobirama caught his wrist. At full mental capacity he could wipe the floor with this man but conversely he knew that all Tobirama had to do was flex once and he would happily walk straight in to a blade aimed for his own heart. There were definitely some sort of blades in that sharp gaze pinning him in place.

“Did I hear you correctly?” Tobirama asked under the sound of the active gymnasium around them. Madara gurgled.

“Kami I hope not!” he shouted. When the fingers on his wrist loosened with surprise he wriggled free and bolted for the locker room.

Finally the gods appeared to be smiling on him because the entire room was empty. Not all that many people were at the gym right now, most of them having dinner with their families or still wrapped up in some duty or another. Madara, on the other hand, was scrabbling at the padlock barring him from the clothing he had worn on the way here, hoping that his fingers would remember the combination because his brain was a little too scrambled to think about anything other than how it felt to have his legs spread over Tobirama’s hips.

The sound of footsteps had him scrabbling harder, twisting the spinner on the lock in random directions as though he might stumble upon the code by accident. He stopped when a pale hand gently placed itself over his own. Madara wondered if it was possible for a human being to actually swallow their own tongue.

“You wouldn’t be trying to run away from me, now would you?” Tobirama’s voice murmured in his ear.

“No I’m running in defense of my own sanity,” Madara whimpered. He shivered when the other man chuckled darkly.

“Funny because it felt as though you were running from me. Could it be that you were embarrassed to reveal something you didn’t want me to know?” His chuckle deepened and his other hand came around to press against the lockers on the opposite side of Madara’s body, trapping him between cold metal and warm body.

His breath was hot and Madara could feel the rapid beating of Tobirama’s heart against his back, a rhythm his own heart seemed determined to outstrip. As two men who used to stand on opposite sides of the battlefield he thought it probably would have made sense if he were uncomfortable in this position, if being pinned face-first against the lockers had set off his instinct to fight. It was probably a bad sign that instead all he wanted to do was cant his hips backwards and beg for just a little bit of friction.

No one – no one – should have the power to make the Uchiha clan head beg. Kami but he was pathetic sometimes.

Madara did his best to clamp down on a whine as he took a quick peek on either side of himself, looking for a way out of this mess before he made an even bigger fool of himself than he already had. Unfortunately Tobirama had him fairly well pinned and the only way he could see himself getting free of this would be to either wrestle his way out, which would result in an even more embarrassing erection, or to cover himself in Sasunao’o, which would of course destroy a part of the building and Hashirama would give him another lecture on inappropriate levels of property damage. Neither sounded like an attractive option.

Tobirama leaned a bit further in to him and Madara was in the midst of desperately adding fainting to the list of things that might get him out of this situation when his body froze, eyes blowing wide, hardly able to believe he was feeling what he thought he was feeling.

“Are you…hard?” he choked out. Tobirama hummed and the sound was so close to his ear it might as well have been a lover’s whisper.

“How could I not be when you spread yourself over me so nicely just a moment ago? I can’t help but wonder what you would have looked like doing that with no clothes on.”

Madara squeezed his eyes tightly and prayed for strength. He wasn’t entirely sure what was about to happen to him but he did know that it would probably kill him. What a way to go, though. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t always thought he would die at the hands of a Senju but he’d always thought it would be a different Senju angry on a battlefield not a delicious sweaty beefcake who refused to wear sleeves for the health of the general public.

Somewhere in the frantic scrambling of his brain he realized he needed to say something. Ideally it would have been something cool and suave, something intelligent and smooth, a line or a quip that would let Tobirama know he was not only down for whatever this was but ready to make a good showing of himself. Instead all he said was–

“Why are you so hot!?”

“I…am not sure how to answer that question but I will gladly take it as consent to go on.” Tobirama’s chuckle was accompanied with the brush of his lips against the top of Madara’s shoulder, one hand pulling away from where it was braced to graze down the length of his side in an agonizingly slow glide.  

Madara closed his eyes. There wasn’t much room for him to do anything, caught as he was between body and steel, so he did the only thing he could and squirmed helplessly while his mouth fell open to let out a soft moan. He didn’t want to think about how long he’d been fantasizing about having those hands on his body – partly because he would then have to think about how long he’d been wanting those hands woven in to his own and that was much too embarrassing to get in to right then. Now was the time for taking what he was being given.

Pressing his face against the metal locker helped cool his burning cheeks, a perfect counterpoint to how hot Tobirama’s hands were as they slipped under the hem of his work out shirt. Not having actually worked out paid off in an unexpected way when Madara sent a prayer of thanks that he wasn’t disgusting and sweaty where those hands were groping. It definitely would have ruined the moment if he smelled like trash from too many pushups, no matter how nice he thought his own arms were. Tobirama’s arms were definitely nicer, wrapped around him as they were, and Madara cracked his eyes back open to allow himself a moment to roam over the perfectly shaped biceps he’d been drooling over from afar. Then he rolled his hips back and grinned when he felt the hardness there rubbing between his ass cheeks.

Unsurprisingly, Tobirama felt the need to retaliate. That was pretty much the entirety of both their personal and professional relationships, constantly reacting to each other and struggling to gain the upper hand, though lately their squabbles had shifted away from violence and more towards silly pranks and half-hearted teasing. Now he did so by sliding his hand down to cup Madara through his loose pants even as his hips rolled forward to press the older man just a little bit father forward.

“You’re playing with fire,” Tobirama growled.

“I’m an Uchiha. I played with fire in my cradle.”

“Don’t bring your cradle in to this.” Tobirama paused to snicker against his back. “Picturing you as an infant is not sexy and I am trying very hard to be sexy right now.”

Madara whined and dropped his head lower. “Everything you do is sexy you stupid asshole.”

Laughing a little louder, Tobirama stepped back just enough that he had room to spin Madara around and push him back against the lockers again, stepping forward until their bodies were flush with each other and dipping his head for a kiss that curled the ends of Madara’s hair. This time when he rolled his hips it was to grind their lengths together, both of them hard enough to feel that sweet friction through the layers of clothing between them.

“Oh sweet Sage,” Madara whispered. His hand clenched around the biceps he had just been admiring, shudders rippling through his body to finally have them under his palms. Tobirama grinned and shuffled his weight to force one of his thighs between both of Madara’s while he trailed kisses along his jaw.

“I don’t suppose you happen to have any objections to our current location?”

“Don’t you dare stop,” Madara growled. “I don’t give a fuck who comes in here, you are not stopping!”

“Normally I would say ‘fuck you’ for ordering me around but I think actions speak louder than words.”

Tobirama smirked wider when the meaning of his words filtered in to Madara’s brain and made his knees go weak, eyes rolling back in his head as he prayed for guidance from his ancestors. Then he went in for another kiss and both of them forgot all about anything that wasn’t the writhing of their bodies against each other or the wandering of curious fingers.

Hands slipped inside each other’s clothing and pulled hair, mouths devoured and commanded in equal turns, and Madara tried to ignore how much sound he could hear spilling from his own throat. It was embarrassing to be so obvious about his enthusiasm but there wasn’t much he could do. He’d always been a passionate person; this was hardly going to be the one activity he approached with a calm demeanor and a clear head.

About the time he realized that his shirt had somehow been slid up to bunch around his collar bone without his notice Madara opened his eyes to see Tobirama lick his lips and bend to gently close his teeth around one nipple. A grunt escaped, fading quickly in to something like a gasp when Tobirama began to nip and suckle. He wanted very much to bow upwards and push farther in to the sensation but he was foiled by the large hands on his hips keeping him from moving around too much. Madara grumbled under his breath about cruel Senju but it had less effect when he followed his words with a demand for more.

Probably just to be an asshole, Tobirama pulled away from what he was doing, leaning over to lave his tongue over the other nipple for a quick tease and then straightening to pull Madara in for a slow, deep kiss.

“Jerk,” Madara gasped as soon as his mouth was free.

“Would you have me any other way?” Tobirama asked. The knowing in his eyes said there was no point in answering him, he already knew. “I thought so. Now, I don’t suppose you happened to bring lubricant to the gym with you?”

Gaping for a moment, Madara only just managed to lower his voice to a strangled shriek. “Why would I bring lube to the gym!?”

“You seemed quite involved in that staring contest you had going with my biceps. I thought perhaps you might have come prepared for certain eventualities.”

“I didn’t think this was an eventuality.”

“Ah. Well there’s something we’ll have to clear up. But not now, we’re a little busy now. Don’t move.” With a pointed look to ensure Madara stayed put, Tobirama took a half step back and reached over to another locker several feet down the line. He twisted the spinner until the padlocked popped open, pulled it out, then dropped it carelessly to the floor while he rummaged inside.

When his hand came back out he was holding a small tub of what Madara assumed to be cream. The lid spun off easily – also tossed unceremoniously to the floor – and the inside revealed a shiny lotion that gave off a pungent smell of herbs.

“For sore muscles,” Tobirama muttered as he dipped his fingers in and swiped out a generous dollop. “Drop ‘em Uchiha. I can’t give you sore muscles if I can’t get to them.”

Madara spluttered a little but he did scramble to undo his pants and shove them down, taking his underwear with them. As soon as he had kicked the garments away Tobirama was slotting their bodies together again and drawing one of Madara’s leg up over his hip to make room for his fingers to reach around and press against the puckered entrance there.

“Hng – bastard.” Madara closed his eyes and let his head fall back, breathing through the sensations, doing his best to have a quiet yet stern conversation with his cock about the difference between interested and overexcited.

“I thought you wanted this, hm?” Tobirama said in a teasing voice. He punctuated his words with the slow glide of his finger sinking in to the hole he’d just slathering with lotion.

“Just…just always a bastard…I don’t know, alright? Just don’t stop!”

“As you say.” Then, because he truly was a bastard, he slid another finger in so Madara could feel the stretch, making him writhe and press down on the invading digits as though he intended to ride them to his completion.

Which actually sounded like an excellent idea that he would need to bring up some other time.

For now he allowed himself to be distracted with filthy kisses as Tobirama worked him open with a maddeningly slow speed that said he was taking his time on purpose. Every time Madara tried to snarl at him to hurry up his words were interrupted with a sharp bite on his lower lip, the side of his neck, even his ear once. It was a disgustingly effective tactic. Having done this sort of thing only a handful of times before, Madara hadn’t realized until now that he seemed to have a fetish for biting. Perhaps that was something else they could explore together later.

Tobirama rolled his hips like an afterthought when he slid a third finger in, chuckling darkly when Madara spewed a litany of curse words, overwhelmed by the dual sensations. Rather than let up he continued the rhythm and shifted his arm until he could curl in to an angle to press against Madara’s prostate, swallowing the resulting shout with a heated kiss.

“Fucking fuck you fuck fucker fucking piece of fuck!” Not that it stopped him. He was grinding out more expletives as soon as his mouth was free.

“Bad language is the mark of an uncivilized beast,” Tobirama chided him.

Madara jerked his head down to glare at the man. “If you are not inside me in point five seconds I swear I’m going to set your head on that fire I’m supposedly playing with. Stop testing my patience you – oh! Shit, that. Do that again!”

His rant paused before he could truly get a good rhythm going, foiled by the extra pressure on the one spot guaranteed to shut him up. Madara supposed he would have been angry if it weren’t for the fact that it felt so damned good. It was almost worth the smugness in Tobirama’s grin – or it would have been if he hadn’t pulled his fingers away entirely a moment later. When Madara snarled he only hummed and kissed him briefly.

“You need to make up your mind. Is it stop or don’t stop? Fuck or fingers? If I’d known you were going to be this difficult about it I would have brought along a muzzle to keep you quiet.” He bent to swipe his fingers through the herbal cream again and opened his own pants to lather in on himself while Madara searched his mind for an acceptable comeback. Nothing came to mind.

“Just get on with it,” he settled for instead. “I don’t have all evening.”

“Oh? So you weren’t planning to come back to mine after, then? A pity. I was going to make soba noodles for dinner and I thought you might like to join me. But I suppose I won’t perish from sleeping alone tonight.”

“What the hell do soba noodles have to do with sleep– oh. Ooooh.” Madara swallowed thickly as he tried to wrestle his face in to more of an affronted look rather than the soppy expression trying to take over. “Look, don’t you dangle the dream and take it away. You’re going to fuck me, you’re going to feed me soba – I fucking love soba – and then you’re going to take me to bed and fuck me again. Got it!?”

Tobirama’s answer was to bend far enough to grasp under each of his thighs and lift him without warning, sending his bodyweight crashing backwards against the lockers since he was unprepared to support himself so suddenly. When he was through flailing he got with the program enough to wrap his legs around the other man’s waist and lift himself up for a better angle. Then he squirmed until he felt Tobirama’s cock line up in just the right spot and bore down carefully.

Both of them groaned when the head finally slid passed the first ring of muscle. Madara let gravity pull his weight down and closed his eyes at the sweet sensation of being gradually filled. He could admit that he’d seen bigger cocks but Tobirama was just the perfect size, big enough to feel the stretch yet not so thick that it hurt. Teeth nipped at his collarbones and he shuddered – doubly so when the movement slid him further down – and then he paused for a moment like he could memorize how it felt as he bottomed out. It seemed Tobirama did not need a moment.

His partner hiked him up against the locker door without warning, pulled his hips away, then pressed in again with a deliberately slow glide. Madara tightened his arms around whatever the hell he was currently gripping and gave up on the idea of staying quiet. At the very least Tobirama seemed to enjoy the sounds he made every time he was filled again, grinning in to his shoulder and fucking him just a little bit faster.

“Should have been”–Tobirama broke off with a hiss when Madara tightened around him–“doing this years ago.” He mouthed his way up Madara’s neck to take his lips in a kiss that almost erased any snarky reply from his mind. It took a few minutes for him to respond

“Maybe you should have been paying attention!” Madara growled after shaking his thoughts back in to working order. Tobirama huffed and retaliated with a particularly hard thrust.

“Well maybe you should have spoken up instead of staring at me like a lovesick puppy.” Tobirama bit his lip once before tilting his body away. It set them at such an angle that he was able to make a direct hit against Madara’s prostate and earned him a howl that choked off between clenched teeth, not wanting to draw attention from any of the idiots still exercising in the gym.

Too distracted for conversation after that, both of them descended in to animalistic grunts and frantic rutting. Metal rattled with every harsh movement and the heat between their bodies was only worsened by the florescent lights burning overhead. Every sound they made echoed in the otherwise empty room, fueling them both on with a chorus of lewd gasps and moans. They would have sounded right at home in the center of the red light district under the strict rule of a jaded Madame.

Madara dragged Tobirama closer for breathless, sloppy kisses as he wondered why all the filthy novels hidden under his bed were filled with heroes and lovely ladies who were never ready for things to end. The tension coiling in his gut wanted nothing more than to boil over, driving him to writhe and struggle, chasing his end as fast as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on. No toy or even his own clone had ever been able to turn him on half as much as just watching Tobirama could; being held up against the wall and fucked senseless was more than a dream come true.

It was pretty damn close to nirvana.

An actual sob of relief escaped when he slipped a hand between them and took himself in a light grasp just this side of not enough, taking up a rhythm that couldn’t hope to match the rocking of their hips with how caught up he was in the way his partner was falling apart beneath him. Clearly he was not the only one chasing something.

He had barely a handful of strokes to admire the bliss in Tobirama’s expression, the way his head had fallen back and his eye has fallen closed, jaw hanging loose to pant, unashamed of the pleasure he was taking from another. Then Madara’s thighs gave a telltale shake and his muscles tensed, his free hand slamming back against the metal supporting him as he cried out the intensity of his orgasm.

Tobirama followed half a dozen thrusts later, pulled along by the tight heat clenching around him, refusing to fall still as he continued to send white hot pleasure streaking through Madara’s veins. Yet even as he shook his way through his own ecstasy his stance never faltered and Madara’s weight never shifted once. Somehow that only made the entire thing hotter.

“Shit,” Tobirama muttered when he finally came to a stop. He leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together and their unsynchronized gasping drew hot breath back and forth between them. “Seriously. Should have been doing that ages ago.”

“Nnnggg.” Words seemed a little far away still for Madara.

“That was not quite the workout I had in mind when I came here tonight but I can’t say that I mind.”

“Hnn.” Madara blinked up at the ceiling and fished around in his brain for words to expression the only vague want left in him at the moment. After a minute he gave up and simply murmured, “Soba?”

When Tobirama laughed it made him look down just to watch the mirth twinkle in those pretty red eyes. “Yes, alright. Let’s get cleaned up and you can have your soba. You know, we’re lucky no one came in here. I don’t want to know what sort of lecture we’d get if we’d been walked in on during…that.”

Madara wasn’t sure if he was shuddering more for the sensation of Tobirama sliding out of his ass or for the thought of those lectures the other had mentioned. Whether it came from either of their brothers – or worse, from Mito – it would surely have been minimum an hour of screaming and embarrassment. He realized finally how reckless they had been and forced his trembling legs to bear his weight as he hastily wiped himself down with the unused gym clothes, opening his locker with the combination he finally remembered so he could dress in his usual clothing to leave.

“Come on,” Tobirama held out his hand. “I think I even have a little sake at home to make it a proper date.”

“Hmph. You’d better treat me proper. I deserve it.”

A hand caught his middle to pull him flush against a hard body once more and Madara flushed when Tobirama whispered in his ear, “Mm, that you do.”

“Shut up! Of course I do! Get off of me with your…with your…emotions!” It took batting at the arm around his belly with both hands for Tobirama to release him. Madara refused to look over at the other man for fear of the laughter he would see there; it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know what to do with his emotions! Just because he had them did not mean he was prepared to chat about them like a casual conversation.

Rather than answer Tobirama waited silently until Madara had everything he needed to bring with him before pouncing again. One arm slid back around his waist while the other lifted to make a hand sign and between one moment and the next they were gone from the room as though they’d never been there in the first place. The only evidence left behind to mark the beginning of something so momentous was a small tub of lotion meant for soothing sore muscles left unnoticed on the floor, cap tossed carelessly aside, and the pungent scent of herbs mixed with the heady scent of sex.

It was an unimportant detail, really. They could always get more cream. But there would only ever be one first time and Madara was already planning how he would gloat to Izuna about his success later. His persistence had paid off, after all.

That and his innate clumsiness but he certainly wouldn’t be including that in his dramatic retelling later.

[kiruuuuu]

I’m not even ashamed to admit this hit me right in the thirst, @taleously! I adore these two, so thank you for this :) (Rating T, humour/fluff, ~1.5k words)

.

“- without even realising, I am holding the grenade all of a sudden and all I hear is this choir of dudes chanting ‘hot potato’ over and over -” Bandit breaks off as soon as he collides with Smoke who froze directly in the doorway to the workshop, so the two stumble inside, basically falling over each other and cursing under their breaths. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?!”

Since they attracted everyone’s attention except for two people who continue talking as if nothing happened, Smoke feels free to simply stare for a bit longer, feast his eyes on the human masterpiece illuminating the entire room with his dazzling appearance. Despite knowing nothing about art, Smoke is dead certain he’s witnessing a magnum opus which has come alive and somehow found its way to their base, a walking and talking sculpture currently engrossed in something technical and too high for him, utterly unaware of its own grace.

“Yo, Porter. Is someone else using your brain? Hello?”

He ignores Bandit a little longer in favour of basking in the presence of such ravishing beauty. He lacks the words to convey just how smitten he is, how pure and innocent his admiration, how deep the impression runs which has been left behind by the image before him, how permanent the imprint in his mind. It’s impossible to put into simple terms as nothing speech produces will ever adequately describe what he’s seeing but he makes the attempt nonetheless, scrapes together every last bit of wit and wisdom left over after his composure has been short-circuited, shattered upon entering to express his wonder.

Smoke blurts out: “He’s so fucking hot.”

Bandit looks at him weird and follows his gaze to the corner of the room where Twitch and Mute are working together on something resembling an engine. Probably due to the nature of their work today, they’ve both donned more casual clothes that are intended to get dirty, and dirty they did get. Mute’s sleeveless undershirt has long bidden farewell to its pristine white colour, making way for greasy handprints and a variety of smudges and yet it’s the most appealing thing Smoke has seen in his entire life. He’d give a foot to be allowed to wear it. Not only does it flatter Mute’s physique, it also draws attention to his upper arms which are usually maliciously hidden from the rest of the world – clearly with ill intent as the mere sight of them probably cures depression at one glance. It certainly does with Smoke. Mute’s hair is sweaty, dishevelled and falling into his eyes, and the fact that he looks like he just bit into a lemon doesn’t diminish Smoke’s urge to bite into him.

“We have to break the air conditioning”, Smoke adds and pictures it in his thoughts, fantasises about sweat dripping and white fabric turning transparent and -

“There’s no fucking air conditioning, you perv. Stop leering and move.”

“If I have to take my eyes off him for a single second, I’m literally going to drop dead.” He cranes his neck to keep watching Mute’s every move even as Bandit drags him to a table at the other end of the room. “Holy shit. Look at him. Where’s my guarantee that no one else is gonna flirt with him? What happened to the slightly arrogant but still totally fuckable nerd?”

“You mean the guy who has to be physically restrained so he doesn’t mount you immediately?”

“Yeah, that one”, Smoke agrees distractedly, his eyes steadfastly glued to Mute who’s pushing a few brown strands back but ends up smearing more soot onto his forehead which Smoke would lick off without hesitation were he allowed. “He so wants me, Dom, I’m telling you. Maybe he’s trying to flirt with me, maybe that’s what’s going on. Jesus Christ, this has to be on purpose. Do you think he sucks good dick?”

“Clearly, he chose to wear this for no reason other than to turn you into a randy ferret. And I don’t know, want me to ask him for a demonstration?”

“Keep your bloody hands off him. Not that it matters, he’s obsessed with me, but don’t even think about tainting him.” Smoke bites his lip as he watches Mute stretch, the muscles in his arms showing. “Oh man. He wants me so bad.”

“How come you’ve not asked him out then?”

“Because he’s so fucking far out of my league he might as well be playing a different sport entirely”, Smoke replies absent-mindedly and only realises what he’s just said when Bandit cocks an eyebrow at him. “I mean – that’s probably what he thinks. Or rather the image he has to uphold. You know, he’s this studious, serious, skilled teacher’s pet who shouldn’t get this turned on by an idiot like me, but there he is, dick rising as predictably as the morning sun whenever he sees me and nothing he can do about it.”

“So he’s currently consumed with desire, is that what you’re telling me?”

Both of them glance over to where Mute is fastening some screws while apparently joking around with Twitch, both of them visibly comfortable with each other and the sight feels like a stab to his heart. Like this, covered in grime and working with his hands, he’s painfully sexy and much more approachable than when he’s reading anything with a title which already flies over Smoke’s head – he looks like someone Smoke would actually chat up and that’s the whole problem. Because usually, everyone chats up the guys he likes. “Yeaaah”, he says very slowly.

The German opposite him snorts. “He’s pretty good at hiding it, isn’t he? What if he’s really a prude?”

“He can be a pillow princess for all I care, all he has to do is take it. I’d make his pretty body dance under my fingertips, you know? Play him like a fiddle, make him beg, make him scream, that sort of thing.”

“Is that so? Let him know, why don’t you?” And, much to Smoke’s horror, he turns to the person in question and yells: “Oi, Mark! Got a minute?”

“No no no, wait, wait”, he whispers and breathes a sigh of relief when Mute replies without even looking up: “I’m busy.”

“See, he’s busy, you best not disturb him, he gets cranky when -”

“Trust me, you’ll want to hear this. Porter is just telling me all the things he’d like to do to you.” This time, all conversation halts. Pairs of eyes slide over to Smoke who can feel blood rushing to his cheeks even as he tries to stay nonchalant and let none of his actual panic show on his face. He suspects he’s failing horribly, however, judging by Mute’s entirely unimpressed expression.

The young man says something to Twitch, making her laugh, and then walks over and if Smoke wasn’t dying inside already, now it’s much worse. Because not only does he have no idea what to say but also Mute’s so close all of a sudden, radiating heat and smelling like grease and heaven. “Shoot.” He’s looking down at Smoke expectantly and with a look of go on, I dare you to embarrass yourself.

“I uh”, Smoke responds and ignores Bandit’s wide grin, “how about – let’s go for some drinks? Later? If you have time? That’s, uh, I’d like to go for a few drinks. That’s it. I mean, that’s all. Don’t listen to Dom.”

“I’m not even saying anything”, Bandit murmurs, highly amused.

Mute examines him thoughtfully for a few seconds during which Smoke’s cheeks darken considerably. “I’m not deaf”, he announces, “and you’re a twat. You pay, but talk about me like that again and it’s cancelled. Deal?”

His face is burning by now because oh God Mute heard him and how much did he actually hear, so it takes a moment to register that he actually agreed. Stupidly, he babbles: “Yes, of course, thank you, I’m – yes. Deal. Let’s do it. Yes.” Mute just shakes his head again with an involuntary smile and returns to his previous task, leaving Smoke gaping and staring after him, marvelling at the back view of his body which is no less phenomenal than the front and he did it. He asked him out. He can panic later, for now he needs to contain the tremendous joy bubbling up in him.

“He likes you”, Bandit comments with a smirk, “fancy that.”

Oh I fancy him alright, Smoke’s brain provides helpfully while his mouth blurts: “I told you he’s thirsty for my cock.”

“Aaaand cancelled!”, Mute calls from the other side of the room.

Smoke can hear Bandit laugh the entire time he quietly pleads to his teammate, begging him to reconsider as Mute’s grin simply grows the longer he talks.

[ssromanogers]

The Best Things Happen in the Dark

To: @theshieldass From: Terri ( @mylifeisloki )

Merry Christmas! I hope you like it! <33

Christmas Eve.

Natasha inwardly congratulated herself that she’d made it through the holiday in one piece. It wasn’t the music or the lights or the general cheer that got to her; it was the people. God, the holiday shoppers who were too focused on getting their grubby hands on as many gifts as possible to mind their manners and act like decent human beings got on her nerves long before she started groaning when Christmas carols started to play on the radio at work. People who insisted upon being unendingly happy every second of the day were right under that first group and closely followed by the ones who couldn’t find any joy in the season at all. Yeah, life sucks, but… chill out and cheer up a little bit.

In any case, it wasn’t as though Natasha had any family with which to spend Christmas Eve. She’d been invited to Christmas dinner at Clint and Laura’s house the next day, but the nighttime was all her. Since this was hardly the first Christmas she’d spent on her own, Natasha had a nice little routine. After her half-shift at work, she’d stop by the grocery store for a bottle of wine and pick up Chinese food on her way home. There, she would change into leggings and bundle up for a night in front of the television.

It was a night for movies. Natasha thought she might even splurge and make some popcorn for later.

In hindsight, maybe she should have known that something would go wrong. The day had been a really smooth one; no crazy people at work, she left on time, no wait at her favorite Chinese place… The universe had a way of evening out. Too many good things in a row was cause for suspicion.

And so, really… When the lights flickered and went out just seventeen minutes into Love Actually, Natasha shouldn’t have been surprised. The universe had a way of balancing the scales one way or another.

Swearing under her breath, she carefully set her food down so she could pull open her drapes and flood the room in moonlight, at least. Then came the candles; Natasha had exactly eight candles and four of them let off contrasting scents that were giving her one hell of a headache. With that in mind, she decided that she’d rather be cold than cold and in pain and only lit half. She wound up with two tapered candles on either side of the television and two vanilla scented candles on the coffee table in front of her. She hauled her comforter from her bedroom into the living room, doubled up on her socks, and slipped her gloves on so she could sip her wine and eat in (relative) peace.

It was fucking cold, though. There was no denying that.

Sometimes she supposed it was better to live with someone if only because it would have been nice to cuddle right about now. She supposed there was always tinder, right? But she didn’t like bringing strangers to her house and now that it was dark… Okay, so it wasn’t a good idea.

Natasha muddled her way through her food and downed her first glass of wine while she wondered whether or not she’d be able to sleep being this cold. It was seeping into her bones even with all the layers she had on; her Russian ancestors were probably turning in their graves. Without TV and knowing that she shouldn’t waste her phone battery now, she sank back into the couch and huffed a little.

So much for a nice Christmas Eve. What was she supposed to do now? Read by candlelight?

She was contemplating splurging on a hotel room for the night when she heard someone curse outside her door, pause, and then knock. Well, whoever it was—it had to be better than sitting alone pondering the meaning of life and the futility of trying to enjoy herself.

Natasha opened the door to find herself staring at the admittedly dimly lit face of her very handsome neighbor. She didn’t know his name and she wasn’t actually sure what floor he lived on, but he definitely lived in the building. She knew that he lived in the building because, on more than one occasion, she’d seen him return from his morning run looking sweaty and utterly fuckable.

“Hey there, um… this is gonna sound pathetic, but I have literally no candles and it doesn’t seem like many people are home.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Any chance you have some extra?”

She did, as a matter of fact. There were four discarded candles sitting in a cabinet in her kitchen just waiting to be burned and Natasha could be a good neighbor and hand them over so Steve had a chance of staying warm that night—- or she could do something even better.

“Sorry, I’ve only got a couple,” she lied smoothly. “But you’re welcome to come in.”

Natasha figured she could use the company and since her neighbor happened to look like something out of a magazine, she could do a lot worse. He didn’t even seem to be that much of an ass and she considered that one massive bonus. If he had a brain, she’d throw a party because she would have clearly hit the trifecta.

“Yeah?” He blinked in confusion. “You’re not busy? I don’t want to interrupt…”

“My evening of sitting and staring into the darkness? Don’t worry, you’re not.” She paused. “Unless you’ve got someone waiting for you to come back…”

“No, there’s no one waiting.” There was some hesitation on his part and Natasha figured he’d either beg off politely or make his way in without further question. “That’d be really nice. I’m sorry to intrude, I really should have candles.”

Natasha shrugged and stepped aside to let him in. “The night will pass faster if we’re not alone anyway.”

“Good point,” he agreed. “I’m Steve, by the way. I’m up in 7D.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Natasha.”

With introductions out of the way, Natasha closed the door behind him and they settled on the sofa. She wasn’t even shy about throwing a thick blanket over their legs to keep them warm. It didn’t look like Steve was wearing nearly enough; jeans and a hoodie weren’t enough to even with the gloves and scarf he’d put on as well. And then… well, they didn’t have many options.

“So,” he started. “Plans fall through, or are you always home on Christmas Eve?”

“I’m usually home,” she admitted. “But this blackout is really ruining my wine-and-Christmas-movie plans.” Natasha smiled. “What about you? No girlfriend to spend the holidays with?”

Steve’s smile was actually a little rueful and Natasha immediately wanted to know why. Had he lost his girlfriend recently? Bad breakup? Unexpected death? “No girlfriend,” he said quietly. “And no family.  I’ve got a few friends, but it feels rude to just barge in on their holidays, you know?”

Natasha nodded along in understanding. “I know. I’ve got Christmas dinner with my best friend and his family tomorrow, but it always feels like an intrusion even though they’re like family.”

“So you get it,” he chuckled softly. “You get it.”

Natasha refilled her glass of wine and offered Steve a sip since there was no way she was getting up for another glass and leaving the warm cocoon she’d created on the couch. He accepted; she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“I guess we should be glad we’ve got each other tonight, then,” she suggested. “A little company.”

Steve smiled widely and handed the glass back to her. “Yeah, no doubt. I do feel like I oughta know you a little better if I’m gonna be sitting on your couch all night, though.”

If Natasha had her way, Steve would know her a whole lot better by the morning.

“There’s not much to know,” she shrugged. “Originally from Russia, came here when I was sixteen after my parents died, currently working as a secretary-slash-personal-slave for a guy with a massively huge ego who checks me out on the regular…” She trailed off and smirked a little. “Single.”

Steve chuckled. “That’s really cool, that you’re actually from Russia,” he mused. “And I’m sorry about your parents… and your job, I guess.”

“Don’t be. They died a long time ago and my job pays really well. Definitely worth the boss looking at my chest a few times a day. What about you?”

“Oh, right. So, born and raised in Brooklyn, went into the army right after high school, declared missing in action, coma for a couple of years, and now I do freelance illustration.” Steve paused for a moment and met her gaze. “Also single.”

Natasha pressed her lips together and nodded a few times. The cold was still seeping in regardless of the layers she was wearing, but she didn’t want to press her luck and ask for too much too fast. She had to feel him out first and make sure he would be cool with taking another step.

“So let’s see,” she said. “Handsome, nice to talk to, creative, fought for your country, and I haven’t caught you trying to look at my chest even once yet… What’s wrong with you?”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “I mean. How much time do you have?”

That answer actually intrigued her a little bit. Natasha had been teasing, but… well, what could be better than having a deep discussion with a total stranger in the middle of a blackout on Christmas Eve?

“All the time in the world.”

“Well, uh… You’ve heard of PTSD, right?”

Natasha nodded and Steve went on to explain that he’d basically been kept a prisoner behind enemy lines for some time. When he was finally recovered, he was in bad shape and they had to put him in a medically induced coma that they simply couldn’t risk taking him out of for some time. When all was said and done, he’d missed two full years of his life and had to start all over. He’d lost his men, his best friend, and the woman he’d fallen for during his basic training had gotten sick and passed away before he’d woken up. It was enough to leave anyone with nightmares.

“Plus I’m really stubborn. Sorry, I feel like I’ve been going on and on,” he huffed, shaking his head. “That’s probably enough for me.”

“You’re one hell of an interesting person.” Natasha hadn’t been expecting any of that and she pulled her legs up a little bit because, in the dark, she felt brave enough to tell him a secret of her own. “I have nightmares too,” she admitted. “Of the night my parents died. And a few things that happened afterward.” She glanced up at him. “How do you deal with them? What’s your deal?”

“I run,” he said. “What do you do?”

Natasha shrugged. “Dance, I guess. Or meditate. My ex was always real big on the meditation thing.”

“Doesn’t sound like my kind of guy.”

“He’s nice enough,” she said. “His heart was in the right place.”

“It’s kind of great that you’re on good terms. I feel like everyone hates all their exes these days.”

Natasha smiled. “It’s hard to hate a guy like him. If you knew him, you’d get it.” She shifted a little bit and unconsciously got closer. “Another one of my exes, though— he was a real asshole.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. He was always very controlling, felt like he wanted me to be a trophy wife or something. And I mean, look at me. Do I look like the trophy wife type to you?”

“I feel like this is a trick question, but no. You really don’t.”

Natasha grinned. “Good call, because I’m not. Anyway, he basically flipped out when I said I was leaving and broke my arm. But I got back at him by sending a bunch of abusive texts from him to his mother. It was definitely worth all the name calling afterward.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “So basically I shouldn’t be messing with you?”

“You got that right.”

“I can’t believe we haven’t talked before now,” he said. “I’m kicking myself for never really saying hello.”

“Well, I feel like you’re always coming in from a run when I see you.” Natasha knew, as a matter of fact, because Steve was the stuff of wet dreams. “So you’re tired and everything. No offense taken.”

“Still.” Steve gave her a shy, boyish smile and Natasha had to still her beating heart because she was in danger of falling in love with a smile like that. “I wanted to. I mean, I wanted to say hello.”

Natasha tipped her head to the side. “How come you didn’t? I don’t bite.”

“Maybe not, but you’re kind of intimidating. In a good way. I guess I just didn’t know what to say and I know a lot of women don’t really like men just coming up to them, so…”

That was kind of adorable. So he hadn’t come up to her because he didn’t want to wind up being a statistic, and because he was kind of intimidated—but in a good way. “Then I guess it’s a good thing the lights went out,” she offered. Turning a relatively innocent gaze up to him again, Natasha went in for what she figured was the kill. “Are you still too intimidated to maybe get a little closer? It’s cold.”

Steve blinked, clearly surprised by the offer. “I think I can do that,” he said eventually. She watched as he lifted the blanket and scooted over until Natasha could lean over and rest against his side. “Can I just…?”

He put his arm around her shoulders and Natasha shivered once as she curled up beside him, her legs drawn way up to her chest and her arms huddled together. “That’s so much better,” she sighed.

“It is, you’re right,” he chuckled. She could feel the vibrations in his chest.

Natasha smirked. “You know,” she mused as she passed her wine over again. “If you’d said hello to me earlier than tonight, we might have been doing something else to stay warm.”

Steve choked on his current mouthful of wine and Natasha looked up at him, clearly amused. “You mean—“ She tipped her head to the side and he let out another soft laugh as he leaned forward to set the wine down on the coffee table. “You do mean that,” he mumbled.

“Try not to be too shocked,” she teased. “I don’t know how delicate your sensibilities are.”

“Not that delicate.”  Steve paused for a moment and studied her. “I mean. We could still…”

Natasha arched an eyebrow. “Well, well. Another surprise.”

“It’s practically a method of survival,” he said seriously. “We could freeze to death otherwise. We’re just doing what we can to make it through the night.”

Leaning a little closer, Natasha slid her hand over his stomach and inwardly celebrated the hard little bumps she found there. “It’s the intelligent thing to do,” she echoed. “Clearly.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Clearly.”

With that, he leaned down and silently asked permission before sealing their lips together. Natasha had to admit that the initial response she had was to lean right back into him and deepen the kiss if only because the warmth coming off of him was intoxicating at worst and absolutely divine at best. Eventually, he gently urged her to lie down and put some of his weight on top of her like the best blanket she could possibly imagine. Natasha’s arms went around his waist to pull him closer and she shivered a little as Steve’s lips dipped down to trace along the side of her neck to her throat.

With all the heavy breathing between them, it wasn’t surprising that they were heating up fairly quickly. Steve’s knee settled between her legs and all of a sudden, Natasha’s cheeks flushed with the most delicious warmth as she bucked her hips up against him. And it was strange, but now that they were sloppily grinding against one another under the thick blanket Steve made sure to keep over them, Natasha was more than willing to take her clothes off. It would be a little chilly, but just a little.

Steve’s shirt went first. She tore it off as fast as she could and tossed it aside as he laughed and told her she was trying to kill him. Of course, his nipples pebbled immediately and Natasha was quick to brush her thumbs over them; she did it again when he let out a filthy little moan in response. The sweater she was wearing came off next and left her in a thin chemise Steve ultimately decided to leave on—regardless of the fact that he latched onto a nipple through the material, much to Natasha’s amusement and delight.

It was a bit of a clumsy shuffle to get their pants off; in the end, Steve just shoved his jeans down and Natasha flipped onto her stomach so he could pull her leggings and panties down at one time. He was inside her before either of them was truly ready for it and Natasha’s moan was very nearly drowned out by Steve’s. But they found a rhythm quickly and Natasha arched her back as Steve pounded into her from behind, inching them up until Natasha was bent over the arm of the sofa and their blanket had fallen to the wayside.

After some time, Steve flipped her over again and tugged her leggings out of the way in favor of falling between her legs to press right back into her. Natasha keened and grabbed onto his hair, sinking her nails into his scalp as he found leverage and resumed his rhythm. Of course, she was about to protest and complain when Steve pulled out just seconds before her climax, but he recovered in a way that she never would have expected.

Steve backed away and lifted her legs up over his shoulders, holding her up with both arms as he buried his face right between her thighs. Natasha had no choice but to cry out and hold on as he worked her right back up and far over the edge. She came with a shuddering cry and shivered as Steve let her back down, but she managed to rally in time to turn the tables and take a seat astride his hip so she could wrap her hand around his cock. He looked even better like this, she decided; by candlelight, she could see every movement of his chest and the way the shadows bounced off his solid jaw, not to mention the heavy weight of his length in her hand. Steve finally came with both arms raised to grab the arm of the couch behind him and Natasha grinned as she leaned down to kiss his chest as he came down from it.

She decided very quickly that laying on Steve’s chest was preferable to just sit on top of him and she shivered again as he wrapped his arms around her without hesitation. He also grabbed the blanket off the floor and tossed it over them because he was full service, apparently.

“You think we can stay like this the whole night?”

Steve’s laugh could be felt in the non-existent space between them. “I mean, I think we should move to the bedroom to sleep, but otherwise… yeah. Body heat and all.”

Natasha sighed and buried her nose right at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “And a Merry Christmas to me,” she mumbled. “What are the chances you’ll carry me there?”

“Pretty high, once I catch my breath.”

They relaxed for a few minutes until the cold was getting to them all over again and a nice, warm bed was calling. Natasha wrapped whatever blankets she could reach around her shoulders and Steve got up, hitching his jeans up with one hand before scooping her right into his arms for a bridal carry into the bedroom. There, he set her down in their nest of blankets and disrobed as quickly as he could before diving in there alongside her.

“Y’know, I don’t do this with every stranger that comes knocking on my door,” Natasha whispered to him as she snuggled in close– for warmth and definitely not because of she actually kind of liked Steve and might just want him to stick around. “Just the handsome ones.” She smiled and Steve laughed as he leaned down for another kiss. That one felt a lot more intimate than the ones before; it was almost like there was a real spark between them.

Steve smiled as he pulled back again. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know that.” Natasha tangled their legs together and let her arm rest around his waist. “I kind of think you like it.”

Raising his eyebrows, Steve let out a low chuckle. “Maybe I do.”

The next morning, snow was falling outside and the lights were back on. Natasha pushed two of the blankets off them before curling right back into Steve’s chest for the time being. Fuck it, right? They didn’t have anyone but each other right now and she was going to take advantage of that while she could, meaning before he woke up and put a stop to it–

“Hey, it’s Christmas.” Steve sounded even sexier with his voice thick and full of sleep, but the sight of him rubbing his eyes with his hair all messed was worryingly sweet. “And it’s snowing!”

Natasha gave him a look. “Sure is. Plus the power’s back,” she informed him. “Lucky us.”

“Does that mean you have to get dressed right away, or…?”

She didn’t have to get dressed right away. In fact, she didn’t have to do anything right away. With that in mind, she shifted to lay on top of him and straddled his hips to get comfortable. “I’m thinking we need to go for round two,” she suggested in a low murmur. “How does that sound?”

Steve smirked and slid his hands over her back until he could grab her ass and squeeze. “It sounds perfect,” he answered. “Round two– and maybe even three.”

[gotmilk5101520]

Trollhunters: Tales of Arcadia Watch Episode 13 The Battle of Two Bridges (Part 2)

Part 1

“No, no, no!”

*Screams in Troll*

“Hey, people!”

“The Bridge!”

Everyone is a little preoccupied at the moment.

“I ain’t ready to let go of this world” Everyone trying to survive 2020

“Seriously”

“Is no one gonna turn this blasted thing off?”

“Fine, i’ll do it!” When you have to do everything yourself.

“Not many people are lucky enough to say they were there when history was made” *Laughs in Wizards*

“Killahead Bridge!”

“The time is now!”

“AAAAAHHHHH!”

“Son!” “Father!”

“We’ve failed!”

“Nothing can stop his return!” There’s something about this part that still sends chills down my spine. I think seeing everyone’s reaction, mixed with the slow motion, echoing, and Strickler’s line is what makes it, that i wish the series had moments like this.

And Nomura was never seen again. Right? Right?

“Huh? Draal!”

“I’d hand you amulet”

“But-”

“You’re alive!” *Cries in Troll again*

“Father!”

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me!”

“No way! i’m not gonna jump in the sewer!”

“There’s gotta be a chicken surprise down there! Maybe two!”

You have a better idea?

“Bon appetit!” I thought so.

“Jim!” Of course how else will we get our final battle.

“Yet another Trollhunter killed under the same bridge”

“You want to see Dad. I get it, trust me”

“Dad made them for us?”

“Oh, i remember enough”

“I remember how his beard would scratch my face when he hugged me”

“How he used to make you laugh”

“But, most of all, how much he hurt you when he left”

“My son...”

“Father!”

“My son, what have you done?”

“Father!”

“But we don’t always get what we want”

“Shame.I’d hoped your death would be more entertaining than Kanjigar’s” “Yeah, yeah, you killed him” “For the last time, i didn’t kill him! He jumped off the bridge himself!”

“Jim! Oh, no!”

“Just in time to see their Trollhunter slain”

“But i’m not a troll”

“Now, that’s daylight for you!”

Books End.

So, now what?

Group hug!

“And with minutes before your play starts!”

“Oh, no, the play!”

“The play! I almost forgot!” How much time passed? Earlier they said the play starts in an hour. So, what has it almost been an hour? Is there like 10 minutes left?

“Hurry, Master Jim! Leave Killahead to us. We’ll take care of...”

How the fuck is he still alive?

“WAAAAAHHHHH!”

“Aaarrrgghh, your oath...”

“You might have been one then”

“But you’re one of us now, wingman”

“Boom”

“Boom”

“Your life more important”

“You’re not a pacifist”

“You are a pet!”

“Not pet”

“Wingman”

“Ditto, buddy”

“Now, let’s go take care of that bridge and make sure it never opens again” *Laughs in Irony*

Oh, great Jim dies. Time to start 3Below: Tales of Arcadia Watch.

*Kisses in Jlaire*

“Are you...?”

“Juliet dies in this?”

“No!” What version of Romeo and Juliet did he see?

“We survived the play”

“Did we?”

“I thought we just died” “You don’t “Die” for another two series from now when you’re a full gigantic, yet still humanly fuckable, troll” “Wait what?” “Nothing”

“And, Claire, i promise i’m gonna find your brother”

“Even if it means crossing into the Darklands myself” “You’re really gonna do that, are you?” “No. Why would you say that?” “Reasons”

“You mean we are gonna find him”

“Together” Claire has joined the party.

“Well, looks like everyone survived that torrential downpour” Not everyone survived.

“All hail Jim, the Bular Slayer!” Actually, it was Aaarrrgghh who killed Bular. Yeah Jim did the fighting, and stabbed him. But Aaarrrgghh was the one who finished Bular.

“Tacos for everybody!”

“Mm! This taste better than socks!” Tacos are better than socks confirm.

“Lighten up, Blinkous. Why do you always have to be such a grump?” Irony.

“We have the Bridge. Trollmarket is safe once again. Now we just gotta go through the second half of the season where the Trollhunter have to deal with an assassin, his boyfriend and girlfriend getting their own weapons, you becoming a human for a while, his mom almost dying, and a lot of other things to look forward too”

“Well, you said you wanted adventure and something more than this provincial life”

“Did that amulet help you find it?”

“Hmm... No”

“No?”

“You did”

Gay.

What a way to end it. Looking forward to the rest.

Oh, yeah Chompsky.

“Huh?”

“Yippee!”

And with that, it’s the end of the first half of season 1 (It’s actually the end of season 1 but we don’t talk about that)

Hey, let’s take Claire to Trollmarket. It’ll be fun.

[wolfeyeslonelynights]

Strip Club II

“Fucking seriously Theo.” If Liam could kill with his eyes, he would be shining his flashy wolf ones. Right. This. Fucking. Second. Instead he couldn’t, stuck with glaring murderously from behind the wheel of his Bronco across the parking lot from the coffee stand. The bikini coffee stand. Dic’s n Daisy’s 4 U. The name matching the one Mason had texted him earlier.

Liam was going to have a serious sit down with his best friend about his choices in clubs and beverage places. And why Theo was always at these less than kosher places. But for now he was fuming, silently, sunglasses forgotten on the seat next to him as he watched Theo worked.

Apparently women didn’t just work at this places; but so far Liam had only seen Theo as the sole male employee. The chimera was shirtless, of course, and seemingly enjoying himself. The older teen had no qualms about helping the scantily clad women by running the bags of garbage outside or reaching things on oh-so Inconveniently placed high shelves. The girls definitely seemed to be enjoying the help. And the view he was sure.

It was after the first couple hours, that he noticed that as the work traffic started picking up, more women were pulling through. It didn’t surprise him that Theo was now at the window, his flirty smile and laughter could be seen from where Liam was hunched over brooding. This was not the deal they made. Liam was ninety percent sure he had used the words ‘respectable’ and ‘clothing required’. This fit neither and had most certainly not been part of the jobs he had sent the chimera.

When he saw a slender manicured hand reach out towards Theo - what looked like a ten dollar bill fluttering down the well muscled chest before falling into the tip jar, Liam had to close his eyes and count to ten. Twenty. Fifty. Before grabbing his phone and firing off a text. Gripping his phone tightly he watched with narrowed eyes while Theo waved as the car drove off before slipping a hand into his back pocket. The moment the chimera finished reading what Liam texted, he was leaning slightly out the window, eyes scanning the parking lot. When their eyes collided, Liam straightened up and slowly brought two fingers up to his eyes before shoving them in the air towards Theo in classic ‘i’m watching you asshole.’

Theo’s face was blank for a moment before he was blocked by a large suv. Liam chewed his lip and grumbled when his phone gave two short buzzes.

Stalking isn’t attractive Dumb Bar

Liam growled before smashing his finger across the screen. Just before he pressed send he paused, a slow and most likely regrettable idea forming in his head. Really, as self-conscious as he was, Liam knew he was a pretty well built guy. Being a were wolf helped, sure, but he worked out a lot. He knew he wasn’t as bold as Theo but he knew some stuff. Sexy stuff.

Absently drumming his thumbs on his thigh, Liam briefly considered how crazy he was being about this situation. They weren’t even really involved with each other like that. Sure, he had told Theo that if he needed to strip tease someone he should call Liam but that had been to get him out of a strip club. The idea of people googly-eyeing the chimera made Liam want to inflict serious damage on someone; whether it was the oglers or Theo he couldn’t decide. Still, Theo had a point, Liam was starting to enter the land of unhealthy obsession. For god sake he had been in this spot for over three hours, slowly crawling out of his skin at the sight of a half naked  Theo helping other people. Part of him wondered if Theo did this just to see if Liam would catch him. Seems like something the jerk would do.

Pressing back against the headrest, Liam closed his eyes and considered, pushing images of Theo - dripping sweat and wearing those stupid skin tight pants, out of his head. Those stupid pants that showed every single inch. That he knew were stuffed in a gray duffel bag in the bag of Theo’s truck. Chewing on his bottom lip, Liam opened up his chat with Mason and sent a brief text. Looking up he saw Theo looking his way with a frown on his face, realized he hadn’t replied to his text when Mason sent a reply.  Feeling a smile grow on his face, Liam sent another reply to his best friend in the whole world before buckling up and starting his car. Looking towards Theo, Liam sent the chimera a bright grin, laughing at the chimera’s startled and apprehensive expression as he drove by. He had work to do.

“Like, I know we’re best friends and I love Corey but Liam…you look very fuckable right now.” Liam snorted amused at his friends torn expression; like the teen couldn’t decide if he liked this  version of Liam or not. They were at Mason’s house, a place they both decided on when Liam told Mason his plans. The human had looked almost too excited. It had been a very long time since Liam had been willing to go clubbing; as in never. The only time they had been to a club together was when Hayden had been in trouble. And Mason knew Liam could actually dance. It drove him mad that the beta didn’t really like the crowd.

Looking at himself in the full length mirror, he thought it turned a pretty interesting picture. The pants were super uncomfortable though, like how the hell did Theo move around in these things? Why would anyone be willing to put these on, which was a terrible experience and he was sure even his excelled healing was going to take a while with the scratches from yanking them up. And he had a feeling that if he popped a bone it was going to go numb instantly. Turning to look at his butt he glanced up at his friend. “How did you know what store to buy these at?” He immediately regretted asking when a dazed smirk crawled onto Mason’s face. “Nevermind!”

Mason laughed as he grabbed his phone, texting Corey while Liam turned to look at himself one more time. Reaching up, he poked at the small lump that Mason had painstakingly pulling his hair back into. He should probably get it cut soon, he wasn’t sure about rocking the man bun. Flexing his back and twisting to get a feel of the pants and loose tank top he shrugged before slipping on the soft bottom shoes. It had taken them both an hour to find the shoes in his closet, having not used them in months. But he need something that would slide easily and these were the only pair of shoes that did that. Tying them tight he stood up to look at the dark sky before turning to grin at Mason.

“Ready to dance?”

The answering smile was wide.

When they finally got to the club, picking up Corey before heading over, the place was already packed. Mason had picked this club, and as soon as Liam saw the metal poles that went fro floor to ceiling with some occupied with people on the, he had agreed. This was perfect. Walking further in, he had to lean close to talk to Mason “You sure he got the message?” Corey was the one who answer “Yup, he gave me shit but said he was on his way. Probably ten minutes?” Liam grinned and Mason laughed. Clapping the two boys on their shoulders, Liam herded them to the center of the dance floor - with an empty pole in sliding distance. Forgetting the whole reason he was doing this, Liam let out a startled laugh.

“Alright, that’s enough time to warm up then!”

Liam was in the middled of an upside down spiral on the pole, shirt taken off and toss away a while ago, grinning as he easily spun around before tensing his arms and back muscles - slowly straightening his legs out in the air. He forgot how strong his werewolf abilities had made him, and was surprised how much fun he was having. Spreading his legs in a wide V, he ignored the large group of women that had gathered in a semi-circle around him screeching as Mason popped up in his vision.

The human had been dancing nearby with his boyfriend, after Corey had watched Liam for the full ten minute warm up before being dragged away. Now Mason was giving him obvious side eye and head tilts towards the door. Theo was here. Nodding back at Mason, Liam abruptly dropped to the floor and grinned winningly at the large crowd.

“Who wants to request a song for me?” The answer was screams and promises, several breaking off to harass the DJ after Liam told them the song. Absently nodding at some of the questions asked at him, waited for the moment the current song to end, for the chimera to enter in his line of vision. He almost felt the moment Theo laid eyes on him; knew he was taking in the exact replica of his pants, chest glistening with sweat, and tried not to grin. Then the intro to the song started and he finally let his eyes meet Theo’s. The chimera’s face was frozen, eyes blown wide as they took Liam in. He smirked.

Backing up, eyes not leaving each other, hand carefully wrapping around the bar. Now he broke the intense contact to look at the girls and wink with a dramatic bow, low enough that his other hand grabbed the bottom part of the bar.

Then he was lifting his legs up in a smooth movement, stomach and legs tightening in control as he kept turning and turning, full circle around the pole before abruptly dropping his legs. Barely giving himself a second, Liam spread his legs again, this time the pole between as he pulled up himself up a few feet before twisting an arm around the pole and twirling around twice. Letting the speed help him swing up until he was upside down again, the pole hard against his back as he wrapped his ankles around it.

Pulling himself up by abs only, he took a moment to acknowledge the girls shouting with a cocky grin and nod; hanging off the pole with one arm and leg. Below him Theo had prowled closer. He didn’t stop to look at him just winked again and pulled himself upside down again - one arm wrapped around the pole beneath him, the other gripping above and let his legs descend slowly. There was a pause, Liam completely horizontal in the air, figured they were getting a pretty good view of his ass in the stupid pants, before he was lifting one leg straight up. Arms straining at the maneuver as he pushed, heading tilting back as he paused again at a split before kicking his other leg other and spinning down the pole. Stopping just a few feet from the floor, Liam gripped the pole with his knees and thighs, upper body dipping back, back until he was curved against the pole.

A few young women who were taking pictures without even bothering being discreet. Pulling himself up, Liam dropped to the floor as a new slower song flooded the speakers. Glancing around he saw Corey getting pulled back onto the floor by Mason. Then Theo was stalking towards him, pausing only to growled something at the girls taking pictures, sending them scurrying away. Forcing himself to not grin, he leaned against the pole and let his body relax. It had been a while since he did something like that and it burned pleasantly.

“Where the fuck did you learn to pole dance?” Theo didn’t stop until he was crowding the beta. Up close Liam could see that the chimera’s eyes were subtly flashing between hazel and gold, the rest of his face tense. Straightening up he shrugged “I was bored one summer?” then he glanced down and grinned widely before looking up “Basketball shorts? In a club?” But it seemed like the other teen wasn’t listening, his breathing was a little too shallow to be normal; hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Liam wasn’t sure what he was expecting but Theo grabbing his hand and pulling him into the crowd with a muttered “Fucking pants.” wasn’t it. When they were safely enclosed in the mesh of bodies, Liam found Theo crowding him again, a leg slipping between his as the chimera dropped his arms over his shoulders. His eyes were definitely going more gold right now, gleaming at Liam before leaning to speak roughly against his ear. Liam tried not to shiver at the lips brushing against him.

“Now we dance.”

It was stilted at first, Theo being way too fluid with grinding and Liam feeling several different kinds of stiff; but then Mason bounded over followed by a sheepish Corey, “Liam I forgot you could do that! That was awesome man.” Corey simply nodded, seemingly speechless. Liam laughed a little, shaking his head, trying to ignore the fact that Theo was still hanging on him like the chimera didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.

Mason got a weird glint in his eye, one that had Liam shaking his head while his friend started nodding back rapidly.

“Oh yes, yes Liam we are doing it.” He practically hissed. This had Corey and Theo eyeing them with startled confusion, the former letting his arms finally drop as Liam sighed heavily and backed up a few paces. Rolling his shoulders, he cracked his neck and shook out his arms before nodding in resignation at Mason. The human gleamed childish delight, and waited for the beat to hit right before breaking in what could only be described as a series of footwork that was very Usher. Liam fought a grin as his best friend did a couple moves that had him brushing off invisible lint on Liam’s shoulder.

He laughed “You’re enjoying this too much Mase.” His friend laughed loudly while backing up with a mocking bow of giving the floor to Liam. Who rolled his eyes before dropping to the floor in a smooth worm. Arms pushed up, legs kicking a couple times in the air before he flipped and spun on the floor - ending in a relaxed posed in front of Corey - elbow holding his head as he grinned up at the chimera’s deer-in- the headlight expression. Standing up he repeated Mason’s bow, giving him the floor. After a few seconds Corey, shrugged before doing the running man followed by a surprisingly good robot that stopped with him pointing at the other chimera. Theo’s eyes were no longer gold, still looking at Liam with a promise of finishing whatever they started later but he gave a sarcastic head bow to Corey before stepping forward. They expected something exotic, Liam licking his lips as he waited to see what he was going to do.

Then the chimera shocked them all by starting a rather…improvised way of doing the chicken dance. He didn’t remember the dance involving some of the dirty moves Theo included, but it felt good to be laughing even as he was turned on. When the chimera ended in front of Mason, Liam saw his friend was too busy laughing against Corey to respond so he slipped up behind Theo - knowing the chimera sensed his movement. When he turned, Liam was the one to grab his hand and pulling them back together. Leaning up just enough to brush lips against the underside of Theo’s jaw, he whispered a “Let’s dance.”

The rest of the night was spent with them mostly oblivious to the world. Foreheads pressed together, eyes refusing to break contact while hands roamed over backs and hips as they swayed and moved with whatever was playing. Theo seemingly slipping his hands lower and lower on Liam’s back, fingers pressing on the top of his pants before sliding back up. Liam gripping the slick material of Theo’s shorts at his hips, bunching the fabric tight as they pressed together.

The only time they broke apart was when Mason butted in for another dance off; each time getting sillier and sillier.

[lhugbereth]

FFXV Favorites Meme

Thanks @agi92 for sharing this one!

instructions:

To celebrate a year of FFXV and the end of the first year of updates, let’s spread the FFXV love! I haven’t seen a tag meme like this for FFXV yet, so I decided to make one. If you see this and want to, copy/paste this list and share what your favorite things about FFXV are.

Favorite Chocobro: Prompto! He’s so dynamic and fun to write. He’s soft on the outside but tough on the inside, a little bit of fluff and angst and sunshine all rolled up into one. He’s also creative and dorky, and spazztastic, and if I could spend a day hanging out with any of the bros it would definitely be Prom! (Hell, I would give a limp for the chance to hang out with Robbie Daymond ;3; AH) Iggy is a close second, and Gladio and Noct very very close thirds. I love them all. 

Favorite Guest Party Member (including Ravus and Libertus from DLC): Hmmm kinda tough. I LOVE Libertus, so so much. But also Iris because she is a pure ball of cute cuddles. Honestly, I’m going to have to go with Iris, because who else beats enemies with giant moogle dolls and still manages to look bad-ass xD

Favorite Minor Character(s): DAMN this is tough. TALCOTT. Sania! DAVE!! DIIINNOOOOO!!!! I can’t choose. 

Favorite Villain: Oh, no contest here. Ardyn muthafuckin Izunia. I love this bitch. I named my cat after him. He may just be my favorite villain in video game history, because he’s crazy hot and crazy creepy - and just plain crazy, too. No one else oozes demon juice and still looks fuckable like this man does. 

(Did...I just say that? I’m sorry, I must be drunk. Blame the eggnog. AHEM) 

Favorite Kingsglaive Character: Libertus, actually. I adore Nyx, but something about Lib really tugs at my heart strings. First time I watched the movie, his facial expressions alone were enough to make me cry. I also love Luna in Kingsglaive <3

Favorite Astral/Divine Being: Mmm, Ifrit. And not just because he’s hot (pun intended) but because he’s probably the most human of the Astrals. Flawed, fallen from grace. Vengeful. Plus he’s basically Ardyn’s pet so. That’s a bonus. 

Favorite Character Overall: Fuck. Um. Prompto. Yeah, Prompto, but like. Ardyn is way way up there. So is Ignis. 

Favorite Weapon: I default daggers for Noctis, because I like speed characters. In Comrades, I’m a fan of the shuriken (especially imbued with lightning yes gimme that zappy shit), but overall I have to say Nyx’s Kukris are the coolest weapoin the game. Mostly because they are so BALLS HARD to get. 

Favorite Location: Old Lestallum! I love Kenny Crow OvO

Favorite Quest/Questline/Hunt: I LOVE getting the gems for Dino, because the boys are always so snarky about it. My favorite hunt is the one for the Giant Cactuars xD 

Favorite Boss: The Zu at Ravatogh, that thing is badass and creepy af. (As a side note, my LEAST favorite boss/hunt is the GODDAMNED Demonwall in Costlemark!!! I still haven’t beaten that thing *lays down and cries*)

Favorite Monster/Monster Family/etc: Spiracorns, maybe, or the sahagin. I think the monster designs are sooooo gorgeous, the detail slays me errtime. 

Favorite Song: Definitely the battle music for the final boss fight >> THIS ONE << It’s a gorgeous, chilling arrangement that perfectly combines Noct’s and Ardyn’s theme songs <3  

Favorite Boss Theme: (See above?)

Favorite Non-Episode DLC/Update/Event: Hm.... ChocoMog carnival, it was such a happy, carefree event *wipes tear* 

Favorite Episode DLC: E.P.I.S.O.D.E.I.G.N.I.S. WHAT KIND OF A QUESTI --- 

Other Favorites of Note: So, so much! Noctis dorking out over fishing. The random conversations between the bros while you run around the map. Chocobo racing. The off-road Regalia (and crashing into shit). The battle system. THE STORY. Ignis’ recipehs. SELFIES EVERYWHERE. 

But perhaps most of all, my favorite thing about FFXV is that I’m still enjoying playing it even a year after its release! With New Game+ and all the DLC, there’s still so much happening, and I can’t wait for all the stuff coming up in 2018 :) Thanks, guys, for sharing this awesome experience with me <3

Tagging everyone!! Don’t be shy!

[weeklylibrary]

“the Marxists demanded they set up a Central Committee of the Workers’ Republic of Freedomia, which was a bit rich, Amma thought, seeing as most of them had taken ‘a principled stand against the running dogs of capitalism’ as an excuse to not work

the hippies suggested they form a commune and share everything, but they were so chilled and laid back, everybody talked over them

the environmentalists wanted to ban aerosols, plastic bags and deodorant, which turned everyone against them, even the punks who weren’t exactly known for smelling minty

the vegetarians demanded a non-meat policy, the vegans wanted it extended to non-dairy, the macrobiotics suggested everyone eat steamed white cabbage for breakfast

the Rastas wanted cannabis legalized, and a reserved plot on the land out back for their Nyabinghi gatherings

the Hari Krishnas wanted everyone to join them that very afternoon banging drums down Oxford Street

the punks wanted permission to play shouty music and were duly shouted down

the gays wanted anti-homophobic legislation enshrined into the building’s constitution, to which everyone replied, what constitution? 

the radical feminists wanted women-only quarters, self-governed by a co-op

the lesbian radical feminists wanted their own quarters away from the non-lesbian radical feminists, also self-governed by a co-op 

the black radical lesbian feminists wanted the same except with the condition that no whiteys of any gender were allowed inside

the anarchists walked out because any form of governance was a betrayal of everything they believed in”

Facts :

1. I took three days to complete this book

2. The Booker Prize 2019 was shared by this book and The Testaments so shout out to my college library for being up to date .

3. I will read this book three more times for equal parts indulgence and inspiration.

Okay first of all, kudos to Ms. Evaristo for writing such a captivating read where she’s gotten all the Asian characters to the T. I love books that when you read, you feel as though you are talking to yourself. This book has so many cool music and literature references that I want to buy myself a copy and treat this like an encyclopedia. 

The quotes I have written, are about two pages long each , but it would be unfair to leave out those parts because she has the capability of creating the whole atmosphere and energy that the characters might be sharing while exchanging words. Each character is so remarkable and realistic, each shine their own light and each woman takes up her own space. If you are looking for a book that you want to spend reading in bed all day then this is it. 

“Amma closes the window, walks back, re-spreads herself languorously over the sofa, convince me why feminism getting a new lease of life isn’t a good thing, Dominique? isn’t it just what the doctor ordered?

actually it’s the commodification of it that bugs me, Amma, once upon a time feminists were so vilified by media it turned generations of women away from their own liberation because nobody wanted to be denounced as one, now they’re in a lovefest with it, have you seen all these glamorous photoshoots of young feminists with their funky clothes and big attitude - until it’s no longer on trend

feminism needs tectonic plates to shift, not a trendy make-over

Dominique wants her friend to agree with her, it’s a no-brainer, but Amma, ever the contrarian, refuses to see the obvious, you’re being way too cynical and doom-mongering, Dom

I’m being clairvoyant, any serious political movement that relies on beauty to sell it sell it is doomed 

oh come on, the media’s obsession with beautiful women is nothing new, look at Gloria, Germaine and Angela in their youth, brilliant women but hardly ugly ducklings, if women are young, beautiful and fuckable, they get the coverage, whether they’re musicians or pediatricians

pediatricians, Ams?

it rhymes, Dom, it rhymes

and another thing that bugs me are the trans troublemakers, you should have seen the stick I got when I announced my festival was for women-born-women as opposed to women-born-men, I was accused of being transphobic, which I’m not, I’m absolutely not, I have trans friends, but there is a difference, a man raised as a man might not feel like one but he’s been treated  as one by the world, so how can he be exactly the same as us?

they started a campaign against my festival which was taken up by someone with a million followers on twitter called Morgan Malenga who kept up the attack for months, severely damaging my reputation until I backed down

Dom, you’re so funny, er, troublemakers? protest? remind you of anyone? we’d have given people hell on Twitter if it was around when we were young, can you imagine? and the trans community is entitled to fight for their rights, you need to be more open-minded on that score or you’ll risk becoming irrelevant, I’ve had to completely readjust my thinking having a ‘woke’ daughter who likes nothing more than to educate me, in any case, I’m sure plenty of these young feministas heroine worship you over there, I bet you’re a babe magnet

I’m not a babe to them, Ams, I’m an old-school has-been who’s part of the problem, they don’t respect me

then you need to talk to them, Dom, and we should celebrate that many more women are reconfiguring feminism and that grassroots activism is spreading like wildfire and millions of women are waking up to the possibility of taking ownership of our world as fully-entitled human beings

how can we argue with that?”