#that they are not conflicted about or shamed for

[bamfkeeper]

Absolution. | K.W

warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI | AFAB reader | Religious themes | Priest/sinner roleplay | Soft dom/sub dynamics | Dirty talk | Spanking | Slight bondage | Anal sex | Sex toys | Corruption themes. Obviously not realistic don't just have anal sex without prep 😭

Do not read if this if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable, please just skip it. I mean no disrespect to religion, this is just a stupid fanfic please do not take this seriously.

a/n: I started this fic in JULY. So if the writing seems a little weird, that's why. I've grown a lot since I first started this blog so my style has switched up a bit. I tried to keep to Kurt's character even with the scenario, hopefully I balanced it out okay. Probably not everyone's thing so...don't read if not. Slowly making my way back here. Not proofread, will do at a later date. ;; wc: 4.7k

You were so bored.

It was a lazy day at the mansion, your boredom drove you into a cleaning frenzy. While rummaging through Kurt's wardrobe, you stumbled upon something you hadn't seen before. "Kurt, is this..." you begin, your voice trailing off as you carefully extract the garment from its hiding place.

Kurt glances up from the book he held, perched on the chair sitting in the corner of the room, his eyes softening with recognition. "Ah, ja...my robes," he responds, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. Rising from his seat, he approaches you with measured steps, gently taking the robes from your hands. "I have not worn them in quite some time," he muses, his fingers tracing the familiar fabric with reverence.

Intrigued by this glimpse into Kurt's past, you can't help but tilt your head, "You should put them on." Your curiosity piqued, you add, "I'd love to see how you look in them." You didn't share the same views, which might've been why Kurt was a bit reserved about that part of himself, not wanting to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable.

You make yourself comfortable on the bed, eager to see how he looked in his robes. Kurt, ever obliging, nods in response to your request and begins to don his priestly attire. The process is unhurried, almost ritualistic, as he carefully slips into each layer. Once fully dressed, he turns his attention to the details, his fingers working to adjust the collar just so. Standing before the mirror, Kurt takes a moment to assess his reflection, his expression a mixture of familiarity and something like nostalgia crosses his features.

"Well, what do you think, liebling?" he inquired, slowly rotating to face you with his arms slightly extended. His end of his tail tail swayed under the end of the robe in a languid motion as his eyes met yours, curiosity evident in his gaze. As you observed him, an unexpected sensation stirred within you, a powerful and undeniable attraction that you found impossible to ignore. You felt shame bubble in your belly, you shouldn't be this attracted to him like this. It was wrong, but...it felt so right.

Drawn by this magnetic pull, you rose from your seat and approached him. Your voice was low and appreciative as you commented, "You look really good wearing this." Your hand, almost of its own accord, traced a path up his chest, feeling the warmth beneath the fabric. He responded with a soft, knowing chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah... I see that mischievous glint in your eyes. You're thinking naughty things, aren't you?" he remarked, gently placing his hand over yours to halt its exploratory journey.

"I understand what you desire, liebe," he continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "However, I'm not certain I can fulfill that wish while wearing these garments. They hold too much sacred meaning for me...engaging in such activities while wearing them would feel far too blasphemous." His words trailed off, leaving an air of regret hanging between you.

Kurt held his religious beliefs close to his heart, creating a conflict between his desire not to disappoint you and his need to maintain the sanctity of his attire. The struggle was obvious in his expression as he grappled with the dilemma of wanting to please you without compromising his deeply held convictions.

"Why don't we pretend?" you suggested with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Something along the lines of roleplaying, maybe? Given your natural flair for theatrics and showmanship, I'm sure you could have fun with it." The proposition wasn't without merit, and he thought about it for a moment, his mind clearly working through the possibilities. His head tilted to the side in contemplation, and reaching his internal consensus, he nodded in agreement, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Very well," he replied, his voice a mix of curiosity and enthusiasm. "We can certainly give that a try. If it brings you happiness, then I'm more than willing." His smile widened as he leaned in, planting a gentle, affectionate kiss on the tip of your nose. "However, I'll need a moment to prepare. Allow me to make some alterations to my appearance and demeanor. I have a different robe I will change into, very similar to this one, don't worry. Just less significant to me."

And just like that, the scene was set.

In what felt like a few moments, Kurt had transformed. He now stood towering above you, his presence suddenly commanding and authoritative.

You were on your knees before him, a position that encouraged the power dynamic you both had agreed to explore. Kurt reached down and cupped your chin in his hand, gentle and assertive, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually warm and playful, now held a hint of stern judgment, perfectly in character for the role he had assumed.

"Well, well," he began, his voice taking on a rich, sonorous quality that sent a shiver down your spine. "You've been quite the naughty sinner, haven't you?" His tone carried a note of playful admonishment, but there was an underlying current of something more intense. "After all the transgressions you've committed, you now come seeking absolution? Seeking forgiveness from me?" He questioned, his delivery starting off with a hint of theatrical flair.

It was clear that this was new territory for him, and initially, he felt a touch of self-consciousness, a slight awkwardness in inhabiting this unfamiliar role. However, as he continued, you could see him settling into the character, his confidence growing with each word. His initial hesitation was rapidly giving way to a more controlled, measured performance, as he found his footing in this improvised scenario.

You felt nervous and excited, the feelings coursing through your veins, having never engaged in 'roleplay' before. A slight tremor shook your voice and a few nervous chuckles followed, you managed to formulate a response. "Oh, Father Wagner," you began, your words held playful desperation, "I've been so busy, I haven’t had the time to come to you. But now, I find myself in dire need of spiritual cleansing. You're the only one who possesses the power to absolve me of my sins." As the words left your lips, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a giggle at the sheer ridiculousness of the scenario.

"My child," he responded, his tone suddenly shifting, "The act of sinning is no trivial matter to be taken lightly." His abrupt immersion into the 'role' caught you completely off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned. He released his grip on your chin and fixed you with a stern, unyielding gaze. "However," he continued, his voice low and resonant, "You are fortunate indeed. For I have been bestowed the ability to purge the corruption of sin from your very soul."

A part of you wanted to burst into laughter, seeing him adopt such a serious demeanor for this playful charade was a surprise. However, not wanting to shatter the illusion or dampen the enjoyment of the moment, you made a conscious effort to maintain your composure and play along. You gave a slight bow with your head, responding in a soft, reverent tone, "Yes, Father Wagner." You repeated his title, savoring the way it rolled off your tongue.

Slowly, you raised your gaze to meet his, your eyes wide and imploring, your features arranged into the most innocent expression you could muster. "I humbly beseech you," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "Please, cleanse my soul of its impurities."

Kurt gently lifted you from the floor and guided you to the bed. "I will have to start with the basics, my dear, but do not be afraid. I promise you, I will purify your soul," he whispered, his voice acting as a soothing balm to your nerves. His lips brushed against the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he guided you to lay across the edge of the bed, his touch both firm and gentle. "Now, stay perfectly still..." he hummed, his voice a low, melodic rumble. You felt him move away, his presence shifting to the side as he reached for something unseen.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you attempted to turn your head, eager to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. However, Kurt's hand swiftly returned, his palm warm against the back of your head as he held you in place. "Ah, nein, my little sinner," he chided softly, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "You must remain still for the cleansing ritual to work its magic." His fingers began to move, gently scratching your scalp in a soothing manner before he slowly withdrew his touch.

You couldn't help but let out a small huff of frustration, torn between the desire to see and the need to obey his instructions. Despite your impatience, you forced yourself to comply, your body relaxing into the position he had placed you in.

"Alright, alright," you conceded, your voice a mixture of resignation and anticipation. "What exactly do you have in store for me, Father Wagner?" The question hung in the air, your curiosity peaking as you waited, body tense with expectation. The soft sound of Kurt's footsteps reached your ears as he moved around the room. When he returned, you sensed his presence beside you, accompanied by the subtle rustle of fabric.

"I have something special for you, mein Schatz," he murmured, his accent thickening slightly with emotion. You heard the gentle thud of an object being placed on the bed next to you, and from the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of a small, ornate box. The sight of it only heightened your curiosity, and Kurt knew it.

"This has all of my cleansing tools, my dear. I promise you I will be forgiven when I am done," Kurt said, his voice a low, husky whisper. His hand glided over the curve of your ass, slow and deliberate, his touch both gentle and electrifying. The anticipation built with each passing second, your skin tingling under his fingertips. Just as you began to relax into his caress, he suddenly laid a firm smack to your backside. The sharp sound echoed in the room, followed immediately by a stinging sensation that spread across your skin.

Your eyes widened in shock, and before you could process what had happened, a sharp cry of surprise escaped your lips. "Ah, Kurt!" You spat out, shock in your tone as you blinked and registered the sensation. The unexpected nature of his action left you breathless, your mind reeling as you tried to comprehend that he had actually spanked you, of all things.

"Es tut mir Leid, schatz...are you okay?" Kurt asked, his voice shifting from the dominant tone he had adopted earlier to one of concern. He paused, breaking character for a moment as he gently rubbed his hand over your backside, soothing the lingering sting from his unexpected strike. The tender ministrations of his fingers helped ease the sensation, and you realized that while the spank had been surprising, it hadn't actually hurt. You still appreciated his attentiveness and care, even in the midst of your roleplay. You nodded, meeting his gaze to reassure him of your well-being.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you replied, your voice a little breathier than usual. A smile played at the corners of your mouth as you continued, "I just didn't expect it, but I'm down if that's what you wanna do." Your words came out as a purr, laden with a newfound excitement.

A playful glint danced in your eyes, reflecting your growing intrigue with this unexpected turn of events. Kurt's cheeks flushed a light shade of violet, betraying his initial surprise at your enthusiastic response.

For a moment, his carefully constructed persona faltered, and you caught a glimpse of the sweet, sometimes shy man beneath the dominant exterior.

He quickly cleared his throat, visibly attempting to regain his composure and slip back into character. As you watched him struggle to maintain his role, you felt a wave of affection wash over you. You were genuinely touched that he had taken the time to check in and ensure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries. You gave him a nod, silently telling him you were good to continue.

He delivered another firm smack to your ass, this time with increased intensity. "Such a mischievous creature you are, I certainly have my work cut out for me, ja? What shall I do with such a naughty thing..." he mused, allowing his hand to caress one of your cheeks tenderly before administering another spank. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you bit down gently, eliciting a smile from him. "Remember, liebe, if you wish to stop, simply say 'red'," he cooed reassuringly, planting a gentle kiss along your spine. You nodded in understanding, acknowledging the safe word.

Kurt delicately parted you, tilting his head to the side with a knowing and somewhat playful smile. "My, my, you're already quite aroused, my little sinner...truly a naughty thing indeed. It seems I shall have to purify you in an alternative manner." His voice carried a blend of amusement and authority, causing your heart to race even more rapidly than before. He leaned in closer, his warm breath caressing your skin, as he continued in a low, seductive murmur, "This cleansing will be most thorough, I assure you. It will be an experience that shall linger in your memory for quite some time to come...and make you think twice before committing a sin again."

You could feel something warm on your ass and you stiffened slightly, feeling a lubricated finger gently teasing the ring of muscle. He felt your body grow tense, noticing the subtle shift in your posture. Kurt circled his finger around the tightened muscle, trying to ease the tension. "Are you alright, Liebling?" Kurt asked softly, his voice concerned again. "Remember, you can say 'red' if you want to stop at any point," he reminded gently, emphasizing your safety and comfort above all else.

"I-I'm okay, just new...is all." You managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly as you spoke. The sensation of your stomach tightening made everything feel a lot more sensitive. You had never done this before, and the unfamiliarity of the situation left you feeling a bit unsure, but willing to try it.

Kurt slowly pushed his finger past the muscle and you gasped. His finger weaseled its way into you, gently pumping in and out, the lube making it much easier than without. The sensation was so weird, but it felt so good too.

"Nngh...that feels good..." you murmured softly, your entire body melting into his gentle caress. With each delicate movement of his finger, you instinctively leaned back towards him, craving more of his touch. The sensation coursed through you, feeling so alien and unfamiliar, yet simultaneously exhilarating and soothing. The pleasure it brought left you yearning for more, desperate to feel more pleasure from your puckered entrance.

"Does it now? Well...a delicate little thing like you would naturally be drawn to this, wouldn't you? Such a taboo act...and here you are, completely enthralled by it." Kurt's voice was a low, melodious hum, tinged with a playfully sinister undertone. He deliberately withdrew his finger at an agonizingly slow pace, savoring every second of your squirming reaction. His intense gaze locked onto yours, observing with rapt attention as you quivered while looking over your shoulder at him.

The corners of his lips gradually curled upward into a self-satisfied smirk, clearly relishing the profound effect he was having on you. "Look at you, already trembling like a leaf," he remarked, his voice barely above a whisper, the intoxicating thrill of dominance unmistakable in both his tone and his piercing stare.

He decided to indulge in further exploration, his hands delicately gliding up the expanse of your bare back. He paused momentarily to bestow a gentle, comforting massage upon your shoulders, gradually easing away any lingering tension that might have been nestled within your muscles. His fingers traced a path down your spine, offering a soothing rub that coaxed you into an even deeper state of relaxation. You could feel each individual vertebra beneath his expert touch as he worked his way down your back with practiced precision.

As you surrendered more fully to his ministrations, he boldly ventured his hands lower, teasingly and playfully toying with your sensitive nipples. The unexpected sensation shot pleasure through your body, causing your face to flush deeply with a mix of arousal and bashfulness. Unable to contain your reaction, you let out a loud, unrestrained moan that echoed in the room, instinctively pressing your hips back against him in a clear display of eagerness and desire.

"Now, my lovely sinner, we shall proceed to the next crucial phase of your purification," he whispered, his lips barely grazing the delicate shell of your ear. "For this part, I'm afraid I must restrain you. Are you comfortable with that, my dearest?" His words, though softly spoken, carried a weight that made your pulse quicken.

You could feel your heart thundering within your chest, its rapid beats seeming to reverberate through your entire being. Your mind was racing, filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as you tried to imagine what might come next. The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, growing more intense and charged.

Every small sound became magnified in the growing silence - the rustle of fabric, the soft whisper of breath, the faint creak of floorboards. As you mentally steeled yourself for what was coming, time seemed to slow, each moment stretching out as you waited with bated breath for his next move.

He retrieved a delicate string adorned with small, shimmering beads. The intricate piece bore a striking resemblance to a rosary, yet it was not one in the traditional sense; the carefully chosen beads served a purely aesthetic purpose, devoid of any genuine religious significance. Kurt began to wrap the beaded string around your arms, his movements slow and deliberate as he secured them to the bed. Each loop was placed with thoughtful consideration, ensuring both your comfort and the effectiveness of the restraint.

He then turned his attention to your legs, repeating the process. The beaded strings were artfully arranged, positioning your limbs wide, you were unable to close them. The sensation was novel and a little weird, yet not unpleasant. Before going any further, he paused, allowing you a moment to acclimate to the unfamiliar feeling of restraint and the gentle pressure of the beads against your skin. His eyes met yours as he softly inquired, "Gut?" His voice was barely above a whisper, laden with care and seeking your approval.

After a brief moment of introspection, you responded with a nod, you found yourself surprisingly at ease. The bondage, expertly applied, caused no discomfort whatsoever. He made sure that the bindings around your wrists and ankles were secure without being restrictive or painful for you. Finding your voice, you replied, "I'm good, Father Wagner." Your tone carried a hint of playfulness, embracing the theatrical nature of the scenario.

He was pleased, so he continued. He shifted himself so his cock was exposed, he slowly stroked himself hard and he stepped closer. His cock head gently massaged between your folds and you mentally prepared for penetration but instead, he angled up at your other hole. You took a moment to realize what he was doing and you smirked, "Father Wagner...are you sure I'm the sinner?" You questioned playfully and wriggled your hips back.

"Hush," he said back quietly, his face blushed a bit before he got back in the mindset. "This is necessary for your sins. I unfortunately can't cleanse you through your womb, I must use the other hole you have..." he whispered, his spongy, blushed head pressed against the ring of muscle gently, prodding you lightly and teasing you.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, "Oh, are you sure I cannot pay for my sins with my pussy?" You asked with a gentle strain, turning to look back at him and blinking with feigned innocence. "Or have I been so naughty that my sweet cunt isn't worth my sins?"

Kurt grinned at your playful words, though caught a little off guard by the vulgarity, he was still enjoying the banter between you and he continued to prod your ass. "Oh, my dear, your sins are far too great for just one part of you to pay...I'm afraid only this hole will do." His tail curled behind him and handed him a small toy, he reached between your legs and teased your throbbing clit before he dragged it through your wet folds and pushed it inside your pussy. "Can't have temptation now can we?"

The surprising action from him made you let out a desperate whine, you could feel your pretty bundle of nerves throbbing at the light touch he had given you. "Only my ass, there isn't any other way?" You questioned, playing along with the direction the scene was going.

He leaned over you, kissing between your shoulder blades gently and he leaned close to speak in your ear. "Now then...let's see if we can't absolve some of these sins of yours." he whispered teasingly, spreading you a bit more before sliding into your ass slowly. The sudden intrusion into your ass made you stiffen in surprise. It was uncomfortable at first, the muscles not used to being stretched out.

The sensation was intense, causing you to inhale sharply as he eased in just past the tip. Immediately, he halted his movements, his eyes fixed intently on your face to gauge your reaction. Your comfort and well-being were important to him, regardless of the intimate act you were engaged in. He had no desire to inflict any discomfort upon you. "Are you alright?" he inquired in a gentle, concerned tone, his body completely motionless as he awaited your response.

"I just..." you exhaled slowly, trying to steady your breathing, "Need a moment to adjust..." you managed to say, your voice slightly strained. The initial discomfort was challenging, even with the careful preparation he had undertaken beforehand. His hands moved to your hips, gently caressing them in soothing, circular motions, but the rest of his body remained perfectly still, allowing you the time you needed.

Several minutes passed as you gradually acclimated to the new sensation. When you felt ready, you cautiously shifted your hips backward, assisting him in entering further. "Mmm...it's better now...f-feels good," you murmured, your voice a mixture of relief and growing pleasure.

"Gut...I will purify you, my child, do not fear," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He began to move his hips steadily, a rhythmic motion that gradually increased in intensity. Slowly, deliberately, he rocked into you, his thrusts careful and measured until he was fully seated within you. Kurt's arms encircled you, holding you close against his body, the warmth of his embrace felt good against the cool bedroom air.

The soft fabric of his robes swayed gently with each movement, creating a whisper of sound in the quiet room. "Ach....you are tight as a drum," he breathed, his words barely audible. He swallowed thickly, his body trembling with the effort of restraint, fighting against the overwhelming urge to lose himself in the moment.

You sighed deeply, your body responding to his movements with a shudder that ran from the base of your spine to the nape of your neck. Instinctively, you were rocking back against him, your bodies moving in perfect synchronization. "I can feel it working," you panted, your voice breathy. "I feel it, getting better...aah...the sins are leaving me…" Your words trailed off into a soft moan.

"They will fade, just let me cleanse you..." Kurt hissed against your skin, his hips thrusting faster against you as he focused on pumping himself in and out at a good pace. His cock stretched you so good, your previously unused hole now burning with hot desire, squeezing every ounce of him into your cavern.

"Kurt, oh my god...keep going," you moaned loudly, feeling every single bit of his dick deep inside you. Every vein against the muscle of your ass, the curve of that soft tip and the thickness pushing its way in and out with each piston of his hips. It felt so damn good, you were molding to him.

"I...am almost there, liebling..." Kurt rasped, his tail wrapped around your thigh tightly as he focused his thrusts. His endurance was impressive as hell, and he was determined to continue the pace he set without faltering.

The spade of his tail slithered over your clit and rubbed over it, gently teasing the bud enough for you to react and moan. His hands moved from your hips and ran under you to feel your chest. He was practically laying on you now, his hips not stuttering for a second.

You felt your climax approach and wash over you before you could warn him, and you let out a loud cry of pleasure as you came. Kurt's eyes widened, you tightened around him with your orgasm and his hips halted. He shot his climax deep into you, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he held you still.

Kurt gave a few more solid thrusts before he pulled out of your swollen hole, watching his cum drip out of your throbbing muscle. He felt such pride seeing you this way, but he knew you were extra sensitive now and the play was over after your respective climaxes. He reached and carefully removed the toy from your pussy, earning a soft whine from you.

"Ach...liebe...you will be the death of me..." He moved to unbind you, his fingers working methodically to remove each restraint one by one. As the bindings fell away, your limbs were finally free to relax from their confined position. Your muscles, having been held taut for so long, now felt completely boneless - like warm honey flowing through your veins. You rolled languidly onto your side and curled up into yourself, savoring the pure bliss that came with being able to bend and stretch your limbs again.

He settled beside you, shrugging off his robe before taking one of your arms into his hands as he began to massage the places where the restraints had been. His strong fingers working in slow, deliberate circles to encourage proper circulation. Each press of his fingertips was perfectly measured, firm enough to be therapeutic but gentle enough to soothe. He punctuated each rub with soft kisses, his lips trailing over the subtle marks left behind on your skin, trying to kiss away any lingering discomfort.

You were grateful for his gentle touch, melting into his embrace as he carefully tended to you. The warmth of his hands was soothing against your skin, and you couldn't help but sink deeper into the comfort he provided. You weren't hurt, but there was definitely a pleasant soreness settling into your muscles now. "That was...amazing," you breathed softly, your voice filled with contentment, "I mean...wow... I don't even know what to say..."

"You liked it?" Kurt asked, a gentle smile playing across his features as his hand splayed across your back, fingers working in slow, methodical circles to ease the tension around your hips.

"I didn't expect you to take the role so easily, or seriously..." You chuckled lightly, looking up at him from where you were comfortably nestled against his chest, your fingers idly tracing patterns on his skin. "But...it was fun. I mean, really fun. Did you enjoy it too? You didn't feel pressured into anything, right? I know it was kind of a weird request..."

"Of course not, liebe. I enjoyed it very much. Besides, seeing you so completely blissed out is one of my absolute favorite things to see...~" Kurt teased with a gentle smirk, his playful tone making you squirm as his tail lazily wrapped around your waist.

"Kurt..." You whined and quickly pulled the soft blanket nearby over your flushed body, burying your face against his chest, "We just finished! Don't get any ideas!"

"Okay, okay...no more play tonight. Just let Father Wagner take care of his precious little sinner now. You need your rest."

"Kurt!" You exclaimed, playfully swatting his arm despite the smile you couldn't quite hide. Regardless, you curled up as he continued to pamper you after the scene, his slow rubs and hums lulling you into a much needed nap.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Image from unknown source. I searched for over an hour to find the source but wasn't able to find it. If you know please message me so I can update this.

[carlyraejepsans]

Low-key kinda a shame Susie starts Deltarune as a girl bc the drama that could have happened if she was Transfem would be insane. Like her discovery of herself, the conflict with Ralsei over The Legend and her own free will, theres something substantial here.

I'm more of an egg transmasc butch susie personally but we are holding hands. you're cooking with fire so hard. it's about the self determination.

[thegreatcaptainusopp]

The Water 7 Fight: An Analysis

So. Water 7. There’s a lot to be said about the Usopp vs Luffy fight, their motivations, and the right vs wrong of it all…it’s a complex situation, and so I wanted to share some thoughts:

The Set Up

The growing tension and activity that led to the fight between Luffy and Usopp is so so well explored in the scenes right before it happened. Of course, events are kicked off by Usopp’s abduction by the Franky Family, and his subsequent beating and losing the money. This, on top of the many many clues sprinkled throughout the early bits of the arc and earlier arcs regarding his own feelings of inadequacy as well as his connection to the Merry, is the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Usopp in my opinion. This was one of his deepest fears, finally realized: he felt that he had finally crossed the line into more than just useless but an active liability to the crew. He admits as much to Nami when he sees her: he’s ashamed more than anything else. He can’t face the others.

Nami’s reaction in this moment is also really interesting. She sees Usopp at possibly one of his most vulnerable moments ever, and she reacts so kindly: she tells him it’s not his fault, that it’s going to be okay, that she’ll get him some help. It’s such a mature and responsible response and out of everyone here I think she reacted most rationally to this whole situation. I think if she had been a little more confident she could’ve engaged in some really good conflict resolution practices with everyone.

At the same time, everyone slowly gets the bad news about the Merry, and their differing reactions are interesting: they’re all upset, and openly discuss that. Sanji even notes that Usopp is going to be particularly upset to hear this, so they’re all already aware that this is going to be quite bad. What’s interesting, though, is Luffy’s reaction: he goes through a similar emotional journey that Usopp does when getting the news, but their ultimate destination is what differs greatly here. I think the difference here is probably down to two factors: 1. Luffy does not have the same particular insecurities that Usopp does and 2. Luffy is the ultimate authority in the decisions here, Usopp is not.

Then, Usopp picks himself back up, badly wounded, to return to the Franky family to try to get the money back. This is a big moment too, because it showcases that he is the type of person to fight even when he knows he isn’t going to win, which is what ends up happening here. Even the moment where he burst in really felt paralleled to the moment he stares down Luffy in a fight later: it’s a really good set up.

And then he gets injured even more, and chopper has to check if he’s even alive when they find him, which is important to note because his physical condition is just dire right now.

I found the reactions of Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Chopper interesting too because they get super angry, obviously, partly because of the money but more because of how Usopp is hurt. In one sense it’s funny that they just left him there while they took revenge for him, but on another it’s a little tragic because that wasn’t what he needed in that moment. I don’t think he ever finds out about it either if my memory served me correctly. There’s another layer of irony in the way they all leap to fight to save their crewmate but we’ll get to that later.

I also think it’s notable that Luffy locks in his decision to get a new ship here, right after they destroy the Franky family’s hideout. I think he felt a sense of responsibility for what happened, maybe believing that if he’d been more decisive in his leadership, then Usopp wouldn’t have been this badly hurt. Which is also just oof. Extremely ironic.

So they take Usopp back and it takes him a while to even wake up, and when he does he’s all apologies. The physical framing of it is interesting too, because he’s on his knees and hugging Zoro’s legs and stuff. He’s not outwardly expressing his shame like he did with Nami earlier but it’s close. He’s not really standing up at all.

And everything seems to be going ok, and Usopp is asking about next steps and then…and then Luffy drops the bomb. And that changes everything.

The Confrontation

Usopp starts the whole argument in full denial. It’s a pretty classic gamut of emotions here: he goes full tilt into the cycles of grief, starting with just straight up denying that Luffy would do this, to bargaining by asking if he was at fault in this situation and trying to convince the others to let him continue fixing the ship. He’s clearly feeling a lot of guilt here: he believes he is directly responsible for the Merry’s “death” as it were and is scrambling trying to take responsibility for fixing her. I think everyone else was taken aback by the level that this guilt went and were wholly unprepared to deal with it. Luffy yelling that he isn’t a carpenter I think was him trying to talk him down but ultimately had the exact opposite effect: all Usopp heard was he had no expertise in this and was useless, and may have even harmed Merry further or out her in this situation to begin with.

This snaps Usopp into the anger stage, and this is where it really starts to get ugly. It’s notable to me that he’s the one that escalated by grabbing at Luffy’s shirt and yelling at him that he excepted better, which were intended to hurt I think. Luffy though gives as good as he gets, and is the one that actually turns the confrontation violent: knocking a grave injured Usopp down. In short: he doesn’t descalate or calm the situation, but instead adds to it. The way his temper is so hair trigger in this scene is extremely interesting to me.

Nobody else intervenes either (at least not yet). All of them try on occasion to tell them to calm down or stop fighting but not more than that. Not even Zoro steps in at this stage, which I found super interesting. Nami tries to tell Usopp at one point that Luffy had a similar emotional reaction ti him about this choice, but Luffy stops her. Funnily enough I think if he hadn’t she may have been able to calm things down a bit here.

It’s not until Luffy is right about to tell Usopp to leave, it’s practically already left his mouth, that someone actually steps in here. And it’s SANJI. Sanji, who knows very well how it feels to be told you don’t belong somewhere anymore. Sanji physically knocks Luffy back and he does it with FORCE, and it’s him who desperately tries to wrangle some control back of the situation. And the thing is: it almost works! Everyone listens to him, nobody objects to his methods, and Luffy actually starts to reign himself back and apologizes!

But it’s a bell that can’t be unrung at this point. Usopp has heard what he heard and has made his decision. What’s interesting here though, and what I realized upon rereading it, was how self aware Usopp was at this stage about the whole thing? Like he was fully aware that he was substituting himself in for the Merry and straight up tells the crew that he thinks he’s useless and that they should get rid of him in the same way that the did the ship. Like…he’s not subtle at ALL about this, and about the reasons why he’s behaving the way he does. He knows exactly why! And he tells them! I honestly credit him for that in a way…he’s spiraling here but he’s aware of it, and he’s aware of exactly what he’s feeling and why. The way this fight is remembered and discussed in fandom I feel is he’s characterized as throwing a tantrum about it but this really isn’t what happened here at all.

Nobody really pulls him back on his statements: I think they were too shocked here to really know what to do. Chopper is falling apart emotionally, Nami is trying to get him to hang back and wait, Sanji even starts yelling at Usopp to come back. Zoro…Zoro says nothing, which interested me a lot too. He does however have a flashback to him being the one to invite Usopp on board, which I have a LOT of thoughts about. From Alabasta, Zoro has been privy to a lot of Usopp moments that were important turning points for him: carrying dalton up the mountain, expressing doubt after long ring long land, etc. I think he’s thinking of those things here too. I think he’s feeling a sense of responsibility here that he doesn’t know what to do with.

Luffy says nothing too. He looks angry, which I think is a cover for upset, but his silence is fascinating. He’s letting things play out here because I think he’s still in fight mode but also because I think he’s letting Usopp make his own choices here, as he should. I think he’s trying to be captainlike here. But…also not quite. He’s spiraling just as bad as Usopp here, imho.

And then, Usopp issues his duel request. There’s a few interesting bits in between where Nami is trying convince Luffy to not go through with it, but he’s very dedicated to doing so anyway. She’s telling LUFFY to apologize which is interesting thinking of the fandom recollection of this fight. She’s trying conflict resolution here but it’s a bit too late for that.

I also like that Sanji and Zoro are fighting about this too, blaming each other for what happened. I think it’s a form of tension release for the two of them, and Nami stopping them shows it’s still a bit of a sensitive time for it anyway. Which leads to:

The Fight

This fight is one of my favorites in OP, insofar as actual fighting techniques/approaches go. It’s unique to the series and so emotional and just hits different. Luffy’s later fight against Sanji hits similar notes but this one stands out specifically because it’s Usopp, who is very much not a fighter in the same way Sanji is.

For one, Usopp’s a ranged fighter, and he’s fighting Luffy at close quarters. He’s already at a MASSIVE disadvantage and he knows this, Luffy knows this, the straw hats know this. It’s his fight to lose, and he picks it anyway. And I think this is what’s so key to this entire conflict, from start to finish: Usopp KNEW he was going to lose. He knew it from the start. He knew Merry was doomed. He knew that from the start too. But he did all of that anyway. Why? I think the why is so incredibly nuanced, from loyalty to pride to fear of rejection to abandonment issues. But it also highlights his tendency to bullheadedly get things done if he thinks he’s the only one left who hasn’t given up on something. And I think that’s so important to him as a character, and it’s this realization and this specific fight that made Usopp into my favorite character. It’s also why I don’t think there’s a black and white wrong and right side to this conflict. From one end, Luffy’s the boss so they need to follow his instructions without question. From another, I like it better when Luffy’s challenged by his crew for both story and character purposes for all involved. I think Luffy needed this to happen, not because he needed to assert his authority as captain, but because he needed to fuck up as a leader and learn from that.

For another, Usopp is also on the brink of collapse this entire time. The fight ends when Luffy gets a single hit in, which means Usopp was on his last legs and he still went through with it. That is super admirable to me and a testament to his super tanking abilities and determination when it counts. He had the deck stacked against him here and he still went for it.

Now: fight techniques. Usopp took this fight seriously, like for real seriously. He pulled every weapon out of his arsenal and went for it, from lying to caltrops to dials and actual honest to god explosions. It was interesting to see the crew be so surprised at him doing so well at the start. He even uses Luffy’s care for his injuries against him which was a notable part of it for me. The impact dial bit is one of my favorites: it’s such a powerful moment to me.

And then he loses, and is probably actively dying as a result lol. Everyone’s absolute devastation, expressed in different ways, was really fascinating to watch. Chopper just trying to run over and fix things and Nami unable to watch hit hard. Zoro being super composed on the outside and holding Luffy together but…yeah he’s not pleased about this. Sanji telling chopper not to go because Usopp doesn’t need pity. Luffy crying…which always is very emotional. Them giving Usopp the ship and moving on to demonstrate that they took all his words seriously but also to acknowledge his dedication to the Merry. Ooof.

Anyway this arc physically hurts. 10/10 experience. Destroys me every time.

[obstinatecondolement]

Honestly getting a little fed up with people universally panning every single pregnancy plotline as "pro-life propaganda"

Fandom start being normal about people wanting to be pregnant sometimes challenge.

[idolomantises]

I’m gonna be honest I think this entire election cycle has exposed how incredibly racist and performatively progressive a lot of white liberals are lmfao

[ars-ceratinus]

How Much Longer (2024), Oil on Canvas - 3ft x 4ft

[edgepunk]

Thank you. For that...and for your help in the garden. I'd not have managed without you.

[musette22]

I just can NOT get over the whole Sebastian wanting to do a play with Chris thing, you guys. I know it's just a hypothetical at this point, but even just the concept is just so incredible? Like, Sebastian wasn't even prompted into bringing up Chris, he just did, like he'd just been waiting for an opportunity to do so. And then he says he wants to do a Broadway play with Chris? Even implies he's talked to him about it, that he brought up the idea with him repeatedly and is just waiting for Chris to agree to do this with him? Like, it might actually happen?

And what I maybe love most is that this means Sebastian has given this a LOT of thought. He's been going about his life, doing his busy important movie star thing, and meanwhile he's been thinking about Chris, and about how much he wants to work with him again, and how he wants to do this specific play with him that he loves, because he thinks they'd be great in it together. But at the same time, he admits that he'd basically do any play with Chris, as long as they get to work together again. He could've said he wanted to work with anybody, any of his former co-stars, all those people we know he's still friendly with because anyone who works with Sebastian falls a little bit platonically in love with him and vice versa, but no, he specifically says Chris Evans. Out of everyone he's worked with, he wants to work with Chris again for this, he's trying to get him, they're doing this, goddammit.

And another amazing implication of all this, imo: even though Sebastian's been very vocal about rejecting the idea that some people have that they get to tell him what to do and influence his life somehow just because he's famous (about which is absolutely right, by the way) -- he just kind kind of seems to forget all about that in the moment he decides to call on people's help to convince Chris to say yes to his idea. As though achieving that particular goal is more important than all of that other stuff lmao.

And listen, I know he's just messing around, and deep down he knows full well that we don't have any means to contact Chris anyway, and Chris is very good at protecting his peace these days so he's not going to be seriously bothered by anyone about this, but still, the fact is that Sebastian literally told us all to bother Chris, text him, DM him, make posters and send them to him, anything to get through to him and make him see the light. Like, Sebastian wants this bad. AND he knows that there are lots of people out there who would love to see him and Chris reuniting, on stage this time, and he's cunningly using that fact to get what he wants. It's kind of incredible. I just can't get over it, guys.

[myokk]

fast sketch of ominis & fast intro to the ominis longfic I'm working on!! This is going to be the most self-indulgent pride and prejudice ripoff that ever existed, 100% based on the ominis of my oneshot💘

I am just OBSESSED with exploring the idea that he’s a natural legilimens & OBSESSED with the thought that he thinks too much for his own good🫶🫶🫶

Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.

It makes sense, really.

He always seems to be cold: frigid, long fingers that are often stiff and difficult to move; goosebumps raising the skin of his arms and the back of his neck any time he walks through the drafty halls of the dungeons; even his eyes, he has been told, are reminiscent of ice. They are apparently quite unsettling. The only time he feels comfortable in his body is when he basks in the heat of the sun.

His earliest memory is of the cold. It went like this: he was four years old: his older brother, Marvolo, had led him outside as a joke, he swore up and down that it was just a small joke, and how was he supposed to know that poor, blind Ominis would not be able to find his way back home? When his parents had finally found him, his frail mother sobbing and holding his tiny, blue, hypothermic body to her chest, Ominis remembers feeling quite perturbed at the disturbance. Couldn’t he just be left alone, in the silent soft snow?

He does not know if he has ever felt warm since.

As he strides through the dungeons, the copious amount of warming charms he casts on himself do not seem to be enough, but he keeps casting them anyways and also: wrapping his wool scarf more tightly around his neck, quickening his pace in the hopes that blood flows more easily through his limbs, wishing that he had remembered his gloves. Winter is always a terrible time of year (this winter more terrible than usual), and every breath of warm air leaves his lips reluctantly. How he wishes that he could just hold on to it a bit longer and yet the warmth leaves him precisely fifteen traitorous times a minute, the frigid air gleefully entering and burning its way down his throat in response. Maybe it’s a punishment of some sort.

His whole life has been defined by punishments and sometimes he preoccupies himself with the thought that it is the only way he can view the world. Most of the punishments are manifested in curses inherited from his family. (His parents and Marvolo insist that they are gifts, but Ominis begs to differ.)

First, his blindness: the only true punishment-curse that even his family rejects: caused by inbreeding, no doubt. He did not cry after his birth and his mother cradled his tiny body in silent arms, lovingly whispering nonsense-evil-Parseltongue to him but when he opened his eyes and she saw a brilliant celestine blue with no iris, she screamed in horror and shattered the frigid peace of the room. His parents tried everything to fix him, make him whole, throwing money at various possible solutions to no avail. Magically induced disabilities are not, apparently, curable by magic.

Ominis is not sure that he hates being blind, although he suspects everyone thinks that he should. It is as much a part of him as his fifteen-breaths-per-minute, and he thinks that vision is not all it’s cracked up to be. He is always terrified at the thought that his tenuous hold on sanity is only due to the fact that he cannot see, until he realizes he shouldn’t be terrified of hypothetical situations that cannot come to pass. He consoles himself with the thought that maybe, if he has had to give up his vision for his sanity, it is a small price to pay. Although, he also thinks sometimes that it would be nice to live a life without any morality holding him back.

He is entirely too introspective, after all.

It is precisely this introspection that is his downfall in this moment (and his cold blood). Ominis is so busy casting warming charms on himself and thinking in circles that he cannot use his wand to help him sense his environment and so he should not be surprised when he crashes into her.

And yet he is. Terribly surprised.

Maybe if he were not so caught up in his own thoughts he could have paid more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he spent too much time ruminating on his reptilian heritage and has now barreled head first into his arch-nemesis.

Rosalie Harris.

The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.

The girl who is currently making angry noises as she clambers to her feet and is picking up the things that he has crashed everywhere. Even if he could see, Ominis is not sure he would help her. Helping her would be akin to betraying himself, after all.

“Hey! Watch where you’re - oh, hello, Ominis.”

“Rosalie,” he says shortly, nodding his head where he thinks she might be standing and stepping to the side. He tightens his grip around his wand, feeling the texture of the wood change from rough to smooth as he runs his thumb down it. Smooth where he always seems to worry it, rough where the wood refuses to yield to the brushes of his thumb.

He surreptitiously casts the spell - he has at least done it so many times he no longer needs to say it out loud - and his surroundings light up. Or, he supposes that is the most apt description, considering he cannot actually differentiate between light and dark. He senses Rosalie’s silhouette to his left - she is standing with her arms crossed and her foot taps impatiently as she waits for him.

Waiting for what? he thinks, slightly irritated. She never seems to leave him alone and he wracks his brain trying to think of something, anything he can say to get rid of her.

Maybe if he speaks in Parseltongue, she would finally be scared away for good. He does not really want that second reminder of his family’s curse, though.

His family preferred speaking in Parseltongue with each other, believing the ability made them morally superior to everyone else and Ominis had not even realized until he had arrived at Hogwarts that no, it was not normal. When his name had been called at the Sorting, furious whispers had erupted amongst all the students, and his every step (terrified, confused, unsure - he had still been getting used to using his wand to navigate his surroundings) to the stool at the front of the Great Hall was plagued with a susurration reminiscent of snakes. Except these whispers, sneaking their way into his mind, had been unkind and overwhelming.

(He had not realized in that moment that he was also hearing their thoughts.)

Maybe now, with Rosalie standing in front of him and just annoyingly waiting for Merlin-knows-what, Ominis should use his Legilimency to find out what Rosalie wants. (He hates it, though.) It would not be difficult. (The thought makes him shiver in horror because he doesn’t want to abuse the ability.) He can feel the edges of her mind, her magic, and all he has to do is reach out - she is right there, and -

“Ominis?”

Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.

Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?

Hadn’t the Hogwarts Express already left the station, bringing all of the students home for the winter holiday? Ominis had thought he would be one of the only students left in the castle, and if he is being honest with himself, he had been looking quite forward to having the place to himself.

Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.

Going to Gaunt Manor for the holidays is out of the question (he will not think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him ever since he received the owl demanding he go home), and Ominis does not want to be more of a burden to the Sallows. They already do enough for him over the summer, and Sebastian and Anne have convinced him to go to Hogsmeade with them at least twice over the next two weeks. Besides, with Anne’s curse progressing, Ominis does not want to be in the way.

“Why are you still here?” Ominis asks. He knows his voice comes across as cold as his blood, blunt, but he cannot help himself. Ever since Rosalie arrived - her entrance to Hogwarts also causing quite the stir - Ominis has been intensely annoyed by her presence. She is too happy. Too carefree. Too…well, everything he is not.

And, she does not seem to leave him alone.

Rosalie is always there, always hanging around Sebastian. (Taking Sebastian away.) He even showed her the Undercroft, which had almost caused a rift in their relationship. Ominis could not believe that Sebastian would be so careless, showing someone who for all intents and purposes is crashing her way into their lives, forcing them to pay attention to her. They barely even knew her, and yet Sebastian thought it was a good idea to show her such a sacred place?

(It does not help that she is intelligent, and Ominis has caught himself on more than one occasion about to ask her about her opinion on something before he catches himself.)

“I was looking for you.”

Ominis tilts his head at that and fiddles with his ring. He considers walking away, leaving -

“I mean…Sebastian said that you were also going to be here over the holidays and since everyone else just left I thought -”

“Thought what?” Internally, Ominis winces at the biting tone to his voice. It came out harsher than he intended, his voice loud and echoing through his mind, bouncing off the cold, stone walls surrounding them.

[witchofthesouls]

Wait something funny just occurred to me. In the AU where the kids get cyber formed but remain on the edge of being adults, someone would have had to give them the Cybertonian version of The Sex Talk.

Would it be Ratchet, giving them the strictly medical side of things, or would it be some bot, talking about the experimental/exploring parts?

(I genuinely believe Ratchet would have an aneurysm of some kind at the prospect of it. But let's pretend)

I have to name this verse properly because Tarn isn't here, but it will eventually lead the D.J.D. to Earth. I'll keep the soulmate au tag until I can figure out something.

Ratchet does have an aneurysm because he has set ideas on what is and isn't 'appropriate' from Functionist-held Golden Age Cybertron, but he also carries a lot of guilt from out-surviving almost all his friends, cohorts, and students...

And it's all being dragged into the mud by the Jasper trio, who gives no quarter on crushing his prejudices and fears. Even Raf, his favorite, casually steamrolls over it with the draconian and American mindset of giving no fucks.

Team Prime had harmless thought exercises of what their charges' Cybertronian frames would be like... and none of them were remotely correct!

Because Miko is a Seeker femme, Raf may or may not be a type of Predacon, and Ratchet can't get proper readings on Jack's base-coding, Ratchet sits them all down because they're not sparklings or mechlings with sealed plates but full-framed mecha with total access. He gives them the reproductive talk, especially since Seekers and beastformers go into reproductive heats, but humans don't have that. He's trying to be mindful, and Ratchet is going through the different sexual methods and the variations of parts. Of course, Raf has to interrupt because the draconian mech has two spikes and no receptacle, and he would like to know about any necessary care.

All in all, it's really Ratchet having another fit because his weird humans are now weird Cybertronians of yore/throwbacks. And the ex-humans are taking it rather well, but Jack, Miko, and Raf had literally lifetimes to explore sexuality: as humans, human-hybirds by exploring their heritage as well as alchemical concoctions and very curious lovers.

This, however, did kickstart the path of Ratchet teaching Miko his medical knowledge as she doesn't want the results. She's burning to have the technical skills and knowledge of the processes. Ratchet does pass on his skills to Raf and Jack, but Raf prefers the science as Jack is more fascinated by procuring research material. Miko literally bullzoned her way to become his student. The howling matches they had shook the foundations of the base, but she got her way because she deliberately aimed at his vulnerable parts. ("You'll leave us one day to go back to Cybertron! And you're refusing to tell me how to properly care for myself!?") Ratchet is highly concerned about how voracious Miko's appetite is for that knowledge.

She yearns to become a Tsunade/Unohana terror among them because they have a strong suspicion that if their status is revealed, then they'll become targets. She'll become a Cybertronian Bloodbourne horror if it means she'll never be trapped like what happened to some of her kin.

[kindnessoverperfection]

Lately, when I talk about someone I strongly disagree with, I think about my friends.

When I interact with someone who regularly rants about people, and tends to take things in the worst ways (without any attempts at self-reflection or grace), I feel more on-edge. I'm nervous to voice opinions. I'm always over-thinking everything I send them, worried about how they'll receive it.

On the other hand, I feel much safer during conversations where someone is speaking neutrally about those they feel at conflict with. When they feel upset about a situation, but without talking aggressively about the other person. Because I know that if we're ever in a disagreement, or have some sort of conflict or misunderstanding, they won't hurt me or suddenly hate me*.

I used to speak much more aggressively about people. My personality disorders, combined with online toxic environments, were big factors in that. I was stressed and angry constantly, and I felt justified, and I felt afraid and ashamed to respond with anything but anger. But to make a long story short, I had several big painful interpersonal experiences where I realized how my attitude was impacting my friends.

I remember the nervousness in my friends' eyes. I remember the people I've met who are much older and never grew out of that reactive communication style, and I don't want to be that person. I want my loved ones to feel safe around me.

So nowadays, I do my best to speak compassionately (or at least neutrally). Because I want to signal to my friends that I'm not going to be cruel to them, or to automatically believe the worst of them, during a conflict or misunderstanding. I try to vent about situations and my fears instead of people.

I wish I'd realized this before.

*(I discuss splitting in the tags)

[rawliverandgoronspice]

behold: my least favorite string of words in the entirety of Tears of the Kingdom.

[evie-a]

The Swedish commentators can fuck right off. Talking about how some countries are controversial/involved in conflict and then when it comes to I—— they say “oh they were attacked in October and responded to that and now they athletes are facing a large security threat”. That’s how you talk about a country perpetuating an actual fucking genocide??? Not “oh this country’s critiqued for murdering thousands of civilians”. Just “they were attacked”. That’s where they want to leave it. Swedish media are and always have been cowards.

[mermaidsirennikita]

sometimes it drives me literally insane to see romance requests that are like

--I want a romance wherein it's basically the happy epilogue throughout the book

--I want a romance that has great communication and they never withhold anything from each other ever

--no "miscommunication trope"

The last thing is just a general gripe about how so many of the things people say are tropes are not tropes, and it's pedantic and snobby but like. Miscommunication is so broad. It's not a trope. People are miscommunicating. WHAT are they miscommunicating about? Is one of them keeping a secret identity from their partner? Because a secret identity romance iS a trope. Is one of them withholding their feelings out of fear of rejection?

Because people DO miscommunicate. Often writers do write it clumsily. If people miscommunicate for no reason, sure, whatever. But if they miscommunicate BECAUSE of a REASON--like, often it's not even miscommunication lol. It's the hero keeping his dire supernatural secret from his wife because she'll die if she finds out (honestly, valid to me, but whatever). It's the heroine finding it difficult to trust the hero with her heart because her dad left when she was young (maybe cliche in theory, but actually a very real thing that happens).

If all you want is plotless nothing wherein everyone is happy and nobody makes mistakes, I personally have a hard time thinking of it as a book, because there is no story. It's just vibes. And essentially EVERY time, people have to mess up and make mistakes in order for there to be a plot.

I just don't understand the point.

[irenespring]

Time for one of my favorite TV traditions, "watch the new episodes of Selling Sunset and argue with the screen like the people can hear me."

[silusvesuius]

g*lmar rly has to be the best skajrim character on the real like even if you don't like him he just is . literally The best one i think......... on dat note i also imagine that he and ulfr*c despite being fairydust BFFs for lyfe genuinely have the worst communication skills ever seen