#these are the kinds of questions to which i've resigned my rights ...

[safeandsound]

home by now and anything but me

as if something could have a chance against Song of All Time. the icon herself. home by now ❣️

make me pick between 2 songs :-) if i haven't heard it, i'll listen!

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education part 2 (platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

Summary : after the whole porn ordeal , castiel finds tumblr and the world of fanfiction has him asking more curious questions  which the residents of the bunker are not so happy to answer . 

warnings : mentions of smutty fics , cas being the curious baby in a trench coat we love .

After the whole angel porn ordeal , they were more careful with what cas was watching not wanting  history to repeat itself . Like monitoring a toddler on an iPad. Especially given that y/n wouldn't come out of her room for days not wanting to look any of them bar sam in the eyes .  Dean even limited his teasing when it came to the subject . Today he was luckily out while cas was on laptop , Sam and Y/N were looking over some incoming cases seeing which needed to be handled first .

" interesting this is very interesting " the angel spoke making them look over both slightly relieved not see or hear an explicit image on the laptop. 

" I've been on a interesting site that led me to many other over the last couple of days " he  spoke up .

" what was that buddy" she smiled over. Their joy short lived when he uttered the next few sentences out of his mouth .

" tumblr that led me to all these other sites , did you know there is fanfiction of us like the play we seen except it's classed as what they call smut " he looked up at the two .

" why didn't  I go on the supply run ,  why am I here when he finds this shit " she cursed up at the ceiling .

" could be nothing " sam offered a weak smile .

" did you know most popular is Dean x y/n fiction seems as though you are most shipped although there are some of Dean and sam with you too " he mused .

" but I could be wrong" sam winced taking the laptop off of cas completely .

" how do you find these things " he asked looking through the tabs .

" I'm very pop culture savvy now " cas said proudly . 

" what the hell man why are you reading all these " sam groaned wanting burning his eyes out seeing an explicitly  wrong image of Dean and himself (no to wincest) .  " you are actually popular with them Y/n " sam mused .

" that's after  that stupid ghost hunting  website and chuck " she grumbled  wondering where she was going to start her new life.

" hey there's even some with you and cas " he chuckled. 

" Alaska or maybe Australia would be better it further Away " she mused .

" wow these are extremely detailed " sam continued .

" would you call Dean daddy , the stories seem to think you would " cas asked .

" what the hell did I walk into " the man in question walked into the room .

" my resignation  " she mumbled hiding her head in her arms. 

" destiel  is another popular one " sam chuckled. 

" cas found smutty fanfictions " she looked up to see the clueless expression on Dean's face.

" they suggest that Y/n is a sub and you are a Dom " the angel stated.

" wanna see if they're right sweetheart " Dean winked .

" wanna kill me cause I can't be dealing with this" she countered wondering if she could also legally change her name.

" why are they so descriptive on the parts , have they seen them" cas sat looking between the three .

" the way Dean sleeps around they probably seen his " she reasoned.

" they also suggest you like..." .

" do not even finish that one" she growled .

"so many kinks cas did you google all these" sam asked eyes widening at the search history. 

" i was looking at chucks book and comments said to check out the tumblr versions " he said looking confused to what he did wrong. " they forgot to add that birthmark just below your tits " he added matter of factly .

" when did you see her ... what he got to see i didn't" dean turned to Y/n , who honestly rather be stuck with Crowley for eternity than this .

" he walked in while i was getting dressed and it not a birthmark it's a scar from a battle with an old favourite bra "she could feel her cheeks redder than they've been so far . "i'm going to my room to pack for my new life in australia" she stormed out her room .

" she's kidding right?" dean asked looking to the mean .

" you should dom her  and make her stay , they said she responds to good girl" cas explained .

" i wonder if she would let me come with her " sam mused walking out after her.  

another awkward dinner bobby was almost afraid to ask. Although dean was smiling more than the others.

" cas read fanfiction , pornographic fan fiction " dean explained .

" i've also read some theories too, like bobby is Y/N Dad and not her uncle" cas smiled making bobby choke on his water.

"  their theories cas they're not right ... right? " she laughed but stopped when she notice bobby expression or how he would barel look at her.

" i mean it's a possibility " he mused truthfully making her jaw drop

" great more daddy issue not like the place is drowning in them with these two " she pinched the bridge of her nose and point at sam and dean.

" so the theories of dean being her soulmate are true " cas asked.

" probably " dean shrugged winking at her .

" why did i ever come here, sam wanna move to australia with me " she ignored the other three men .

" look me and your mom had a brief thing , your dad well your dad agreed while he..." . 

" australia sound nice " sam agreed cutting bobby short .

" hey stop denying our love even nerds on internet think we'd be hot together"dean spoke up .

" cas from now on stop the curiosity or so help me i will make you eat the computer  " she  groaned learning too much information for the day .

"we need to do dna test " she turned to bobby .

" you can pick me up at 7 " she turned to dean before walking out leaving the men speechless . 

" i got punished" cas pouted .

" i got a kid  kinda " bobby gulped .

" i got a date " dean smirked .

" and i got a rock ... It's a thing on tiktok ... what cass isn't the only pop culture savvy one around here " sam shrugged .

part three

[pigeonleap]

"Heard that you were selling your piano and your car It feels so weird to not reach out and ask you how you are Wonder if you're moving or if money's just that tight These are the kinds of questions to which I've resigned my rights"

Home By Now, MUNA (please listen, such a good band)

Leafpool must have thought about crowfeather in such a strange way after the forced closure of Twilight. The time had passed before it really came. Maybe she wondered what could have been.

"What is love supposed to feel like, anyway? Why is it so hot in L.A. in late October? Said 'I don't know if it's enough to make it last' You said if I even had to ask You had your answer But I still wonder"

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Not much, being ill, talk of periods, Jake Seresin being too fucking perfect, fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: The double whammy of being on your period and having a cold puts a wrench in your plans to go out with Jake.  He surprises you in the best  way in showing how caring he can be.

I needed some Jake fluff after having to deal with finally getting COVID this past week.

Part of the Jake and Elsa Universe 

Masterlist

Closed for Renovations

Jake: Hey doll. When can I pick up your fine ass tonight? 

You: This fine ass has got to bail.  Double whammy of lady parts closed for renovations and I've got a cold. You probably don't want to hang around this mess.

Jake: Is closed for renovations a clever way of telling me you're on your period?

You: Yes

Jake: Let me restate the question, what time do I show up on your doorstep with Mama Seresin's famous chicken noodle soup, chocolate, and other reinforcements?

You: You're serious?

Jake: As a heart attack or in this case a period cramp

You chuckle as you read Jake's latest message.  You're surprised that Jake is all in on spending time with you while you're both sick and on your period.  Most of your past boyfriends gave you a wide berth when Shark Week was upon you, some finding it "gross" or "weird".  As annoying as it was, it was also an easy way to gauge the maturity and long term potential of any guy.  Right now Jake was pulling into a very clear first place.  

It's still early on in your relationship, a few weeks after the craziness that brought you together. New enough that you're still encountering a lot of firsts and navigating the intimate details of a blooming relationship.  Your period being one of them.

You: I stayed home sick today, any time is good for me.

Jake: I'll swing by after work with ingredients.

You: Sounds great.

Jake: You're great

You: 🙄❤️☺️💋

With that settled you turn back to your cup of tea and trashy reality TV.  Somewhere along the line you must have fallen asleep because you awake to a gentle knocking on your door and the TV screen asking if you're still watching. You sit up abruptly, realizing Jake is here and your house looks like a NyQuil commercial with tissues and every kind of tea imaginable strewn out on the counter.  

Resigning yourself to the mess you peel yourself off the couch to answer the door and let Jake into the house. When you open the door, Jake is holding two large grocery bags filled with food and has his phone pinched between his ear and his shoulder.

He mouths,

"Sorry," just before he speaks into the phone.

"Yes, Mom, I got the fresh thyme, although I think Elsa has some growing on her patio. Speaking of which, I'm at her house…"

He nods agreeing with his mom on something,

"Yes, she is…someday, yes, love you too, Mom.  Thanks for the help."

A small smile creeps on your face as you listen to the exchange between Jake and his mom, his love apparent for her. You reach out and take one of the bags from Jake so he can hang up the phone to come inside.  

"Talk to you later, Mom," he says as he follows you into the kitchen.

Just as you place the bag of groceries down, Jake comes up behind you and gives you a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"How ya feeling, El?"

"Okay," you respond, obviously congested. 

"How about I get you another cup of tea, and you can keep me company while I make my Mom's literal county fair winning chicken soup," Jake offers putting the kettle back on the stove.  You sit at the bar and watch Jake as he unpacks ingredients from the bags.

"County fair winning? That's still a thing in Texas?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He laughs,

"Yes, it is and it's serious business. My grandma is still peeved at her neighbor for taking the 'good apples' from the tree that grew on both their ranches and winning in the apple pie category, 30 years ago." 

The kettle whistles and Jake holds up the box of lemon tea next to the stove in question.  You nod and he prepares a cup of tea and slides it across the counter.

"Thank you, so do I get to know the secret if you're making it in my kitchen?" you ask. 

He grins,

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. But you can watch."

With all the soup ingredients on the counter Jake hauls two last items out of the bag.

"I didn't know if you were a milk chocolate or a dark chocolate fan, so I got some of each," he offers, holding up two giant chocolate bars.

"Oooh," you coo, "What if I said white chocolate was my favorite?" 

Jake grimaces slightly,

"Is it?"

"Haha, no. I don't consider it real chocolate and reserve it only for foofy lattes from Starbucks," you reply, his facial expressions easing.

"That's good, that could have been a deal breaker," he laughs.

"Gimme, please," you say, pointing to the dark chocolate bar.

"A woman of sophisticated tastes," he teases, handing you the bar. 

"Don't spoil your appetite," he admonishes, pulling a cutting board out of the cupboard.  He dons one of your aprons over his khakis. Jake prepares tidy rows of carrots, celery, and onion as he talks with you about his day.  

Soon, savory smells are wafting through your kitchen as Jake pours the rest of the chicken stock over the neatly chopped vegetables.  

"This is where it goes to the next level," Jake says, piquing your interest.

"Do you have flour, eggs, milk, salt, and a rolling pin?" he asks.

You nod and direct him around the kitchen.  

He takes the flour and scoops out some into a bowl following it with two eggs, a dash of salt, and some milk.  Using a fork, he stirs the ingredients into a shaggy dough. He sprinkles more flour on the counter and turns out the ball onto the counter. Flouring up his hands he kneads the ball for a few minutes. The way his strong hands and forearms push and pull at the dough sends your cold medicine addled, and apparently lust filled, mind in a different direction.  You've never wanted to be a ball of dough more in your life right now.

"That has to rest for a few minutes. More tea?" Jake asks, smirking, as he breaks you out of your naughty daydream.

"Yes,..umm, tea. Please," you stutter. 

"What are you making?" you finally ask as Jake heats up the kettle again.

"Homemade egg noodles for the soup," he answers, nonchalantly. 

"Homemade noodles? Wow."

"I said it was next level," he replies back.  

"That is next level. No one has ever gone to homemade pasta level for me before," you answer, in awe of this amazing man in your kitchen. Jake turns around from the stove and the kettle, a wistful look on his face. He walks across the kitchen and slides his hands around yours where they rest on the counter. He leans over to kiss your forehead sweetly.

"That is a travesty, because you are definitely worth the effort, you are homemade noodles worthy, El," he says, so earnestly it makes you tear up a little and laugh at the same time.  (Which you can only blame on the hormones of your period only partially.) 

"If I knew how to make homemade noodles I'd make them for you Jake Seresin," you say. 

"My nonna would be happy to teach you, but you'll just have to watch and learn for now," he breezily says, taking the rolling pin to the pile of dough. You tuck the mention of his Nonna and presumably meeting her and what all that means into the back of your brain to think about later. He pushes and pulls on the pin, flattening the dough out to a thin layer before he slices it up into skinny noodles. Jake grabs the mass and slides them into the boiling soup.

"Just a little bit longer," he says, working to clean up as you wait for the soup. You watch him contentedly as you sip your tea, enjoying his form and just how comfortable he is in your kitchen wearing a frilly floral apron.  A gift from Beth when one unremarkable boyfriend broke up with you because, 

"All he really wanted was a housewife, not someone more ambitious than him." Beth had written in the card, "Goodbye to the bastard, be your own trophy wife." You smile at the memory, a reminder of how much your relationship with Jake is better than anyone before him.

A few minutes later, Jake ladles out the steaming soup and slides a bowl over the counter to you. Inhaling the wonderful smelling steam in through your congested nose it almost feels magical the way it opens up your airways.

"This smells amazing," you gush, happy to be able to breathe again. He sits down on the stool next to you, his body turned towards yours so his legs can tangle with yours.  

You lift the spoon up, heaping with noodles, vegetables, and some chicken to gently blow on it, trying to cool it down.  Jake is watching you intently and hasn't taken a bite yet waiting for your reaction. Finally satisfied that you're not going to burn your tongue, you take the much anticipated first bite and it is perfect.

A fresh burst of herbs, the salty savory stock, and then the buttery smoothness of the noodles are all perfect. You close your eyes, it's that good.

"Wow, this is so good," you gush, enjoying the slight blush and sudden shyness on Jake's face.

"No wonder your mom won the county fair."

"I'm glad you like it, eat up. It's practically medicinal," he urges you.  You hum in agreement and savor the delicious soup, your appetite finally ignited for the day.  You and Jake sit in comfortable silence finishing your meal.  

You go to stand up to clear the bowls, trying to feel useful, when a familiar stab of pain shoots through your torso from back to front.

"Ahhh, shit," you groan, collapsing over your belly and crossing your arms. Jake stands up immediately, concern on his face,

"El, are you okay?"

You stand up, still grimacing, 

"Yeah, fine, just Aunt Flo being a bitch."

Jake smiles gently and rubs your back,

"You've got a lot of witticisms for being on your period. You need some painkillers or a heating pad?"

The mention of a heating pad makes you light up with hope and then immediately scowl when you remember that it broke last month and you haven't had a chance to replace it.

"I've got some ibuprofen in the bathroom, but I forgot to get a new heating pad," you inform Jake, glumly. Jake's face lights up,

"I've got just the thing then," he says, rubbing your back one last time before he steps away and grabs the last grocery bag. He holds up a box of heating pad patches.

"I wasn't sure you had a heating pad and I've used these for muscle strains before…," he trails off talking as he takes in your face.  You are definitely full-on crying, like maybe ugly crying, you can't believe this is your life.

"El, are you okay?" he asks, gently pulling you into his arms, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you sniffle into his uniform shirt, trying to avoid the ribbons, thinking those would be a bitch to clean snot out of, 

"You," you add.

Jake laughs, his sense of confidence unfazed by your comment,

"Me, I'm what's wrong? What are you thinking sweetheart?" he asks, tightening his arms around you as he starts to slightly sway in a comforting way. Another gentle kiss to your temple makes you sob a little.

"How are you so amazing? You cooked for me, brought me two kinds of chocolate, and brought back up heating pads. I bet there's both Tylenol and Advil in the bag, too."

He chuckles and you can feel him nodding in agreement.  You lean back and wipe your eyes,

"I'm just a little overwhelmed, no one's ever really taken care of me like this…wanted to more importantly. Like I don't deserve this. Oh my God, I'm so sorry for crying." Jake reads the panicked look on your face and pulls you back as you try to retreat, 

"Listen to me, El.  You are worth every bit of effort, every bit. You understand?" he asks, sincerely waiting for your response. You nod, not sure what to say.

"Not to disparage your past taste in men, but they sound like they fucking sucked. I can't complain that they didn't realize what a treasure you are, because I got the chance to show you." 

You sniff, taking a deep breath to get your emotions under control.  

"More importantly, you're the first woman that I've ever wanted to take care of, be there for you. Make you see your true worth. You make me want to be a better man, El. I love you," Jake says, earnestly his eyes imploring you to believe him. You meet his gaze and stare back into those intense green eyes for a few seconds before closing your own for a second to stem the tears. 

"Okay, Jake. I love you so much. So much it overwhelms me sometimes. God, I'm such a mess today, hormones and viruses are not being kind to me today," you say to Jake wiping away the tears.

"It's okay, El. You're my mess and that's what matters. I'll be here to take care of you when it gets messy, always," Jake reassures you, his arms still wrapped around you. You rest your head on his chest, letting his love envelop you. 

"How about this?" he asks as you look up, "Grab some Advil, wash your face, and I'll get one of those heating pads, some chocolate, and we can snuggle up on the couch and watch whatever cheesy rom com or trashy reality TV you want. I'm gonna change into some sweats, okay?"

"Sounds perfect, although you might regret giving me carte blanche over our viewing choices."

"Never."

The rest of the night is spent cuddled up on your couch with Jake watching Pride and Prejudice. Between the warmth of Jake's embrace, the Advil, and the cozy heating patches you fall asleep not too long into the movie. You're awoken by a quick succession of text notification sounds.  Jake puts his phone down when he sees you awake. 

"Let's head to bed, El," he whispers, kissing your temple.  You nod sleepily and he scoops you up bringing you to bed. The last thought you have before you fall asleep again with Jake wrapped around you is that for a day that started kind of terrible it has ended up kind of perfect. 

Bonus Content Jake's Text Convo with his Mom. 

@kmc1989

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged  

@callmemana  

@dempy  

@hangmanscoming  

@lanie-k 

@callsign-viper  

@senjoritanana  

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

@memoriesat30

@midnightmagpiemama

@mygyn

[tenderfxck]

I need more alhaitham fics in ur writing plz god…. bully him bully him bully him public teasing which makes him very flustered??.? I’m just ranting at this point anws love ur writing ✍️

al haitham//distraction from argument//gn!reader//18+

contents: flustered!al haitham, pent up!al haitham, gn!reader, exhibitionism, handjob, alcohol mention, drinking, al haitham being put in his place <3

word count: 2.3k

notes: i've been itching to write another fic where i get to tease haitham. enjoy <333 (and thanks to @bobaboob for listening to my crazed ramblings as well as beta reading this fic!)

it’s a warm summer night at lambad's tavern and you find yourself seated in a booth in between the two arguably brightest minds of recent akademia history.

well, they were supposed to be bright. but even with you in their presence, they weren’t courteous enough to keep their bickering to themselves.

to your right sat the great architect and your best friend, kaveh. both of you were kind souls who bonded over the more beautiful things in life (as well as kept each other up to date with all the drama in sumeru city. so what if the two of you were gossips?)

and on your left sat the grand scribe, al haitham. you and al haitham were-

well. . .

enemies? rivals? annoyances to each other?

ah, yes. let’s settle on that. any more analysis would call into question if each tense moment the two of you had shared in passing was just animosity or something more. . .

at this point, you think they were hashing it out over some household chores or some other domestic affair. who ever thought those two could ever be roommates?

while sitting between two grown men arguing like a married couple is usually great entertainment, today you were quite over it. and quite bored.

but this was a bar, wasn’t it? you chose to focus your attention on polishing off your own drink as they continued this little disagreement of theirs. and when your glass was empty, you pivoted to sneaking sips from their neglected drinks.

well, until al haitham shooed you from his glass. of course. he was oblivious enough to (rudely) ignore you for the last fifteen minutes but yet he was keenly aware of you emptying his drink. damn scribe. . .

you sighed. you had completely lost the plot of this little spat a few minutes ago and had no patience to dare decipher where in the hell it had led. resigned to your fate stuck between the two, you pick up the bottle of liquor sitting in the middle of the table, planning to drown your boredom in another stiff drink. 

"-and that's why you're being completely irrational." al haitham stated bluntly, pushing his freshly polished off drink towards you.

"i'm being irrational?" kaveh scoffed, pushing his empty glass towards you as well. "have you even been listening to yourself?"

they hold a tense stare for a few seconds, before whipping their heads to face you.

"who do you think is right?" they snap in union.

"i think you both need a drink." you sigh, tipping the bottle and filling both their glasses with a healthy dose of liquor.

. . .

this had continued for a while. bicker, bicker, fill their glasses, bicker, bicker, more shots, so on, so forth.

you still had no idea what they were arguing about, but it proved a LOT more fun to watch them keep at it all the while becoming more and more intoxicated.

al haitham’s never been much of a drinker. even in his akademy years when some students chose to let loose on the weekends, he preferred to stay in, instead engaging himself with a good book. only a few drinks in and he can feel the flush cross his features. kaveh wasn't faring much better, definitely slurring his words and swaying ever so slightly.

“what do you think?" kaveh slumps against you, resting his weight on your shoulder in hopes of keeping himself steady. "you can't possibly think haitham’s being reasonable.”

“nonsense, my point is perfectly just.” al haitham sits back against the booth and crosses his arms.

they both looked at you expectantly, equally sure that you'd come to each of their aid.

"i think kaveh is making more sense."

watching al haitham's face drop was priceless. granted, you had zero idea what you were even agreeing with kaveh on. but the look of disbelief that al haitham made no effort to suppress confirms your suspicion he's typically used to most (other than his hard-headed roommate) agreeing with him at the drop of a hat.

"you're not even affiliated with the akademia," he bit back after collecting himself once again. "and your thoughts on such matters are inconsequential." al haitham goes to take another swig but finds his glass empty yet again, dropping it back onto the table with little grace before he regards you and kaveh with a certain distaste in his voice. "you artsy types love to have an opinion on everything, don't you?"

you place a hand to your chest in fake offense, unable to suppress a teasing smile. "inconsequential? a well-rounded person should recognize that relying purely on a scholarly view of the world is a detrimental one."

. . .fuck. al haitham was normally weary of rousing you but he mistakenly dug himself this grave. he cursed the alcohol for making him so careless.

"i have opinions on the akademia's actions just as i have opinions on the importance of the arts. what about you, grand scribe?"

"what?" he stiffens in his seat. when did this become a discussion about him?

"what are your view on accessibility of the arts? recognition and comprehension among citizens?" kaveh covers his mouth, poorly hiding his giggles as you laid into the increasingly tense scribe. "what about you, haitham? do you think the akademia is properly instructed in artistic literacy?"

al haitham had a sharp intellect. but not as sharp as your wit.

"I, uh. . . w-well. . ."

“so you have no opinion." you let a devious smile tug at your lips, addressing al haitham with a look of faux pity. "how disappointing. to think the akademia holds you in such high regard and yet you have neglected such a large area of expertise.”

this always seemed to be an ace in the hole for you. using whatever rhetoric he attempts to argue and your gilded tongue to throw it right back at him.

“when your pride allows you to be open to a conversation outside of your area of expertise, let me know. maybe we can have a more stimulating conversation.” you spit, taking up your glass of liquor once again.

“stop that.” al haitham huffs.

“stop what?”

“that. that- thing you always do.”

“eloquent as ever.” you sigh. kaveh snickers behind your other shoulder, and al haitham responds by staring daggers right over the other at him. “haitham, you have to be more clear.”

he grunts in frustration, turning away from the two of you. you were truly skilled at this feigned innocence. the kind that taunted al haitham, just enough to entice him into playing straight into your hand, just to get teased even more. but he chose to keep that observation to himself.

"you purposefully distract me." is what he settles on.

"i distract you? how so?"

“your words. you twist mine and then goad me on purpose.” 

“that’s barely a distraction, mr. scribe.” you chuckle, shifting in your seat. al haitham dutifully ignores how you brush against him. “but if it’s truly my words that prove a disturbance to you, i’ll keep quiet. surely you’ll easily best kaveh then, hm?”

“surely.” he bites back.

a self-satified look returns to him as you, as promised, shut up, instead busying yourself with refreshing your drink.

al haitham’s attention was quickly stolen by a fresh jab from kaveh about how “distracted” he could be, falling so easily back into their regular song and dance of bickering. he was once again far too caught up in this spat to notice the look you were giving him over the rim of your glass, an evil plan forming behind your pretty eyes.

when he first felt your hand graze his thigh he barely registered it. you were in close proximity anyway, seated right between him and his debate partner for the night.

the second was harder to ignore, your palm sitting atop his leg and stroking down ever so slowly. he stumbled a bit on his next words, but put it out of his mind to recover just enough to keep laying into kaveh.

it was only when your hand trailed between his thighs, grasping between his legs, rubbing his crotch with feather light dexterity when he became painfully aware of your wandering hands.

he froze, mouth opening and closing as he felt his body temperature climb a degree or two.

"ha! so you really have nothing left to say." kaveh gloated, a smug expression crossing his features.

"like hell, you still- ggh!" you squeezed a little firmer this time, feeling his cock stir beneath your touch. you could see how his chest now began to noticeably rise and fall, no doubt his heart beating ever so quicker with how you stroked his hardening length.  you licked your lips, savoring each little reaction you pulled from him, made all the more sweet with how he tries so desperately to hide them.

"that doesn't sound like a rebuttal to me, haitham." kaveh laughs, grasping his glass to take a celebratory swig.

al haitham grits his teeth. his attention is divided between his unshakable urge to one-up kaveh, and the slow, purposeful drag of your fingers under the table. the fabric of his pants starts to tent under your hand, al haitham grunting at the now suffocating tightness of them.

he swallows, takes a deep breath, and dissects kaveh’s last few points with precision. albeit, a little more breathlessly than usual.

so this was your game. If you couldn’t distract him with words. . .

a soft palm reaching down his pants causes haitham to jerk so hard he almost knocks over his glass.

. . .you seemed to have other means. 

you were kind enough to rid him of his binding clothes after a few excruciating minutes of teasing caresses, dragging his cock out of his restrictive pants and exposing it to the cool air of the tavern.

he worried his lower lip as you paid special attention to his now throbbing cock, tilting his head back in a sigh as you grabbed him again, now stroking him earnestly.

he sits there, still attempting to argue with his roommate. truly trying to act like everything is fine. but his heart is thumping in his chest so intensely you swear you can feel it as well. he tries to take deep, steadying breaths, but it feels like every time he opens his mouth he has to close it immediately, or else a shuddering noise will escape his trembling lips.

archons, does it feel so good watch him crumble.

you pump him under the table at a steady pace, paying oh so close attention to every sharp inhale and every twitch of his body as he melts in your hands. you only slow when he seems like he’s about to burst at the seams, instead choosing to stroke his inner thighs with teasingly light touches or fondle his heavy balls. and at any moment it seems like he’s regained an iota of composure, wondering if he can still best you, you take a thumb to his sensitive tip, grinding intense little circles into the head of his cock sending such cute little tremors through his whole body.

kaveh takes a glance at his squirming roommate, noticing that al haitham is white knuckling the table as their bickering goes on. he takes satisfaction in the knowledge he's stirred haitham up so much, but only you truly know why.

it builds and builds, threatening to careen off that edge of restraint al haitham keeps himself bound to so diligently. 

he tries to ignore the obvious. but his mind cant help but flash back to last night when he was fucking his fist, imagining it was your hand teasing him so. and now it’s happening, for real, all right in front of him and all of the bar's patrons if they paid any closer attention to the writhing scribe.

al haitham never stood a chance.

“haitham~” you breathe out, so close that it tickles the shell of his ear. he attempts to bite his lip to content the whine that would otherwise escape. “why don't you admit that kaveh has a point? then this whole affair can be finished.” you whisper that last word, giving him an especially drawn out stroke to his twitching length, clearly conveying your intent.

“f-fine.” al haitham stutters, now slumped against the table in front of him, praying it will give him even just a little support. “you’re right. . .” he heaves, unconcerned about his stupid pride. he doesn't care about winning any more. “you’re right!” his voice pitches, feeling your fleeting touches turn steady and fast, pumping his aching cock so fucking good as he finally concedes.  “i’m wrong, just- just!”

he gasps, finally, finally cumming after what felt like hours of teasing. your hand remains firm, stroking him through it while the scribe crumbles in on himself, twitching and biting back moans. he’s sure his release was so intense it hit the underside of the table. but he doesn’t dare open his eyes to check, certain he’ll meet his roommate's confused expression, or the satisfied one you’re surely wearing. 

when he finally does regain enough mental faculties to sit upright again, he can see kaveh across the bar, paying of the tab while happily spouting something about “finally besting that damn bastard.”

his eyes drift up. you’re wearing a sweet, albeit just a bit smug, smile.

“i’m glad you finally came around, mr. scribe.”

kaveh circles back to you, face flushed and cheery as can be. “let’s take this back to our place. The two of us will treat you to a thorough lecture on the arts as a reward for being so humble, haitham”

“you go on ahead, i’ll catch up with you.” kaveh regards him quizzically, but al haitham can only look past him. “i need a moment to. . .” you throw him one last glance before removing yourself from the booth, but not before he can catch you bringing a thumb stained with release to your mouth, licking the last bit of evidence on your person away. he’s reminded of the uncomfortable mess currently staining his abdomen and running slick down his thighs.

“. . .organize my thoughts."

[voxofthevoid]

Commencing Mundane Unclekuna Wednesday #1—yes, these names get more ridiculous by the day. The actual fic title is bloodstains on the collar means just don't ask, which is significantly cooler on account of not being mine.

This is my first non-canon JJK AU—as opposed to the canon divergence, minor or major, that I favor—and despite the name, this isn't just sukuita; there's also goyuu. Quick, act shocked.

A lot of the AU development/exposition so far has focused on adapting canon details about the Itadori family for a no-powers, all-human context—like this post shows. On the character end, sorting out a version of Sukuna who's not a cannibalistic mass murderer but is sure as hell not nice, kind, or even sane has been a fun challenge, especially when depicting him from Yuuji's perspective. Gojou and the goyuu bits also needed some work, since taking them out of the canon context while keeping their age gap and teacher–student dynamic changes the flavor of fuckery. The most fun has been Yuuji though—you can see why here.

The fic is currently 3 chapters and 14k. I have a total of 7 chapters planned, though that may increase by one or two depending on how the sex scenes come along. For this week, instead of a single scene, I've picked a goyuu section from Chapter 2 and a sukuita one from Chapter 3.

Goyuu

Satoru plucks the manga that’s been resting on the table, balancing it on a finger while watching Itadori struggle to watch Satoru’s hand, chest, and face all at the same time. “School’s a boring place to wait. You can meet up at some café, can’t you?”

“I…guess?” Itadori shrugs. “It’s fine. I mean, I don’t mind. It’s more fun to go with people.”

“Shy?” Satoru asks, setting the manga down. “Or are you afraid people will think you’re some delinquent?”

Itadori looks both bewildered and entrained. He has a very expressive face. The eyes, especially.

“Nothing like that, sensei,” he says, and Satoru leans in a little at his tone—the same amused patience Satoru’s heard in people who can tolerate him best, except they generally take months, if not years, to get to that level of resigned acceptance. Itadori leans in too, matching Satoru consciously or unconsciously. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m a curious guy,” Satoru drawls. It’s not even a lie. “And you’re interesting.”

Itadori blushes again. “Oh. Um, thanks?”

Satoru smiles. This time, Itadori’s eyes drop to his mouth, and Satoru can’t help smiling a little wider.

Itadori swallows.

“Back to the question then.” Satoru links his hands and props his chin on it. Itadori’s gaze doesn’t leave his mouth. “Why’d your uncle come pick you up?”

Itadori’s well within his rights to tell Satoru to fuck off—diplomatically, maybe, since they’re teacher and student, but the sentiment would be the same. Even Satoru’s closest friends aren’t shy about firmly and often physically steering his nose out of their business.

But Itadori answers: “My parents left town pretty suddenly, and I’d forgotten my phone at home. They couldn’t tell me to go to Sukuna’s place instead. So he came here.”

Satoru hums. “I’d say you’re old enough to stay home alone. Don’t tell me you’re the sort to cause trouble with a bit of freedom.”

“No?” Itadori looks genuinely confused. “I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t mind staying alone either, but my dad worries, so…”

“So you’re being a considerate son,” Satoru finishes in his own words. “What a good boy.”

Itadori’s breath catches audibly. His eyes are darker now, giving an animal edge to his face. It’s an interesting expression, and it makes him look a bit more like his uncle.

Satoru gives him a moment.

Then— “He seems like an interesting man to live with, your uncle.”

Itadori blinks. A frown takes over his face, even though his eyes stay tellingly dark. “You could say that. Gojou-sensei, you aren’t…?”

Satoru waits, but Itadori doesn’t complete the question, just stares at Satoru like he’s trying to telepathically pour the rest of the words into his head. Unfortunately, Satoru isn’t fluent in awkward teenager.

“Go on,” Satoru prods.

Itadori grimaces, and it shows in his voice when he asks, “You’re not, like, into Sukuna, are you?”

Satoru’s dumbfounded for a moment. Then he’s stifling laughter, not all that successfully. Itadori’s expression shifts from disgusted discomfort to just plain embarrassment, but even through that, he stares at Satoru—his mouth and his eyes.

Brave boy.

“Sorry,” Satoru says, not meaning it one whit. He’s loving this. “Reasonable assumption on your part, really. But don’t worry, your uncle’s safe from me.”

Itadori seems to relax a little. “It’s more the other way around.”

“Oh?” Satoru asks, intrigued. “Is he trouble?”

Itadori squints at him. “Sensei, you sound way too excited about that.”

“I did say I’m curious! I can promise not to hit on him, if that’ll put you at ease.” Satoru holds out his hand invitingly. “Gentleman’s agreement.”

Itadori stares at the hand for a full second.

Then he slowly, warily takes it.

It’s not a small hand; Itadori’s not a small boy. Satoru is bigger though, and his hand envelops Itadori’s, the tips of his index and middle fingers coming to a gentle rest against Itadori’s pulse. His hand is shockingly rough, with hard calluses brushing Satoru’s skin.

He squeezes gently.

Itadori’s blush hasn’t faded fully since Satoru called him a good boy, but now, it flares, splattering gracelessly across his face. It goes shockingly well with his hair.

Lines are being crossed. Satoru feels it keenly, the change in the air.

He drags his hand out of Itadori’s, slower and more delicate than he needs to. His fingers trail from Itadori’s racing pulse to the trembling tips of his fingers, and even after Satoru’s leaned back again, folding his hands demurely in his lap, Itadori’s hand hovers in the air over the table for a good few seconds before dropping limply to the surface.

Satoru winks at him. “Now spill.”

Itadori blinks slowly. Satoru can practically see his brain rebooting.

“What was the question again?” Itadori asks.

Sukuita

Movement wakes him, eons before the touch.

A hand settles on his hip, searing even through the cloth. It’s limp, flopping there in a decent mimicry of a sleep-heavy limb. Sukuna knows better.

Wasn’t always like this. The kid was a kid once. More of a kid. Small, helpless, useless. A piece of shit from the start though. The first time Jin handed him to Sukuna, practically forcing his little bundle of snotty joy into his hands, the little fucker had thrown up on his face.

Jin laughed, the bastard. He didn’t mean to, that much was clear from the stifled snorts and painfully red face. Kenjaku had no such compunctions, chortling like the same brat hadn’t damn near killed them on his way out of their cunt.

Kaori had the sense to take the baby away before Sukuna could toss him out a window. The most sensible of the lot, and of course she’s the one who went and died. Sukuna’s been seeing a lot more of the kid since then. Even more since Wasuke followed suit.

Shit luck to be born into a family like this. He used to think the brat didn’t fit in, with his big baby eyes and bleeding heart. Worse than his father. Turns out he’s weirder too, but Sukuna blames Kenjaku for that.

Blood will always out.

That’s no excuse for this—the hand sliding down to his stomach, the body pressing against his back. The kid’s warm.

He’s not, usually. That body runs cold. Sukuna noticed it the first time when the kid was tiny, barely the length of his forearm. A frail mass of fabric and fluff nestled against his chest, leeching off his body heat. Not that it took much to warm that tiny thing.

’Course, then the kid woke up and promptly latched on to a nipple because he was even dumber then, and when Sukuna pried him off while yelling for Kenjaku, he’d been treated to a deranged shriek that damn near ruptured his ear drums.

Nothing much has changed over the years. The brat went from screaming at him to biting him to scowling at him to punching him to trying to fucking kill him. Wildcat, through and through. The only part of him Sukuna’s ever bothered to nurture.

It’s different when he’s asleep. The baby soaking in his warmth. The toddler sprawled on his chest. The boy curled up in his lap.

Small and weak and utterly unbothered about it.

How the fuck do you live like that, trust like that?

At least this is better. It’s not trust breathing into his nape and groping his stomach. It’s just human filth.

They’re testing touches, slow enough and idle enough that the brat probably thinks they’d pass as sleepy ministrations.

Idiot.

Nobody would miss the intent behind this. It’s scorching.

If someone held him at gunpoint and forced him to admit the one thing he has in common with his brother’s spawn, it wouldn’t be the hair or the blood or the killing rage—it’d be this, the hunger.

Sukuna can tell the exact moment the brat decides he’s actually asleep. His palm presses flat against Sukuna’s stomach, skin to skin. That’s on him for sleeping shirtless despite his impromptu bedmate, but like hell is he changing his habits just because this little creep wants to molest him in his sleep. Not like clothes would stop him anyway.

Sukuna continues to feign sleep, his breathing steady and just a little uneven—a rhythm he memorized and learned to mimic for situations a lot more dire than the badly planned porno playing out right now.

The kid’s patient. Or just a fucking virgin. Sukuna can’t imagine why else he’d spent minutes just touching his stomach, that warm palm rubbing lazy circles over his abs. Sometimes, it presses down, denting the soft layer of fat on his belly to dig into the muscle underneath. It’s a struggle not to flex then. A few muscles jump, entirely involuntary, but the brat just breathes heavier and wetter, squirming closer to Sukuna.

There’s another hand between their bodies—an entire arm, the line of it doing nothing to hide what it’s touching. It’s not moving, yet, and Sukuna still hasn’t figured out whether it’s there just for the pressure or if the stupid shit actually thinks that not digging his boner into Sukuna’s back means something.

Some line to not cross. Some precious moral to cling to.

Sukuna wouldn’t put it past him, but the brazen bullshit the other day told a different story. It sure wasn’t guilt or even shame that darkened the brat’s eyes when Sukuna tore him off his back and pinned him by the throat.

[i-heart-yellowstone]

11 - One Without the Other

Part 12

Raised Fair Share Of Hell

Tag list @bvbwestfall @hcwthewestwaswcn @child-of-of-the-sunshine @elenavampire21 @keep-the-wolves-close @kmc1989 @tallrock35

What do y’all want to see next in this story??? More moments between Alissa and Kayce? More moments with Alissa and Ryan??? Have Alissa have more interaction with her own family / more with the other Dutton’s???

Riding up on horseback to the barn I had taken a break from tending to the cattle needing to check on my daughter. Slowing my horse down to a trot I tilted my head in confusion seeing Beth’s vehicle sitting in the driveway which was uncommon on this ranch. Putting my horse inside the barn I dismounted going up on the porch steps to find her waiting for me. “Bethany Dutton, what are you doin’ out here on our property?”

“There’s a threat coming for our families. I was hoping to come and talk to your parents about this.” She explained with one leg crossed over the other one.

The front door opened and both my parents came outside clearly seeing she was here. My father sat down in the big rocking chair with my mother sitting on the swing with me. “What are you doing out here, Bethany?” He asked her using her full name rather then her short name.

She sternly looked at my parents. “I’m here to warn you about a threat to my family who will soon be coming for your land sooner rather than later.”

“What kind of threat?” My mom asked her.

Beth didn't sugarcode it. “A fucking airport and casino that goes through my father’s land and will likely connect across yours. Where all of this land is gone forever and becomes just like where the new people here come from. They'll turn this land into those populated cities of shit.”

“How do we start stopping this attack?”

The only Dutton daughter brushed her hair out of her face. “I have been thinking it in my head lately and I've only had one solution. You or Kayce would need to become the new Livestock Commission when my father goes to step down. Kelsea is coming back into town and I know you and her were close until the night of her party.”

“That could certainly be doable. Alissa-” My father called my name seeing me force myself up and into the house slamming it without a single word uttered from me. I couldn't even hear his name recently.

Kelsea Northwest was the mayor's daughter before he resigned ten years later. She was everything the town's daughter should be, until she was around her friends. Then we all knew her as the party queen of Montana. Walking through the woods Kayce and I came upon a burning campfire that was sat up.

“Kayce! Lissa!” A familiar voice broke through the crowd of people with a bright set of blonde hair, tackled us into a bear hug once reaching us. “I'm glad you guys could make it. The dudes are messing with the fire and the girls are playing beer pong.”

“Sounds Good - woah uh bye Kace.” She tugged me forward away from him.

Kayce chuckled shaking his head at one of our friends. “You stealing my girlfriend already?”

“I'll bring her back, Dutton…eventually.” Kelsea snorted out a laugh.

Kelsea, me and a few of our other girlfriends chose to play beer bong that was set up by the fire. I was waiting for my turn getting caught off guard by my friend’s question. “So are you and Kayce thinking about getting married soon?”

“What!” I coughed out some of the drink I had drank from my red solo cup.

Kelsea flipped some of her hair out of her face. “Oh come on Alissa. Everybody can see the chemistry between you two. Plus I’ve never seen either of you without the other not far behind.”

“I really like him, I do. But-“

She throws her hands up in the air. “But what marry the Dutton already?”

“We’re only sixteen , Kelesa. We don’t have to rush and become adults and marry unless he gets me pregnant. I really like him and we’re in a good place right now. I don’t see the need to rush that.”

The mayor’s daughter squeezed my shoulder. “I have high hopes you’ll soon be a Dutton.” I grabbed her hand dragging her back in over to the game ending that conversation.

It had been a little while where I decided to go search for my boyfriend since we hadn’t really spent time together tonight. I walked around the area with a flashlight and a drink in my hand searching for my boyfriend in the dark. Stopping in my tracks I heard a noise in the bushes where I peaked over the plant gasping covering my eyes with my hand. “Oh my god! Kayce.”

“L-Lissa?” He lifted his head up laying with a native American girl, both of them completely naked and laid underneath their jackets.

Throwing the red solo cup full of beer at the pair I stomped off that night. “Go to hell!” That was the night he had gotten her pregnant and started all this nonsense ten years later.

Kayce had finished with his work for the day knowing he couldn't give his best friend anymore space. He needed to tell her how sorry he was. He needed to tell her that he knew he had screwed up. Helping take care of Monica hadn't been fun for him. He only really cared about making Tate happy. He pulled the truck to a stop at the Lambert house getting out of the vehicle heading up the front porch. “Maybe we should start doing this in the barn. Surely we can't hide from your family forever.”

“Ryan?” Kayce bared his teeth not expecting to hear his father's ranch hand inside the house.

Alissa came around by the window where I ducked down thinking she saw me waiting a minute before I slowly peaked my head back through the window. “We don’t have to hide in the barn. Plus I thought we were doing this with no strings attached meaning you have nothing to be afraid of, especially getting caught.”

“Oh my god.” He cursed low under his breath getting sick when he saw her kiss him causing him to run back to the truck and head back on our side of the fence line, hitting his hands angrily on the steering wheel knowing he’d screwed up as a husband now.

[harrisonbrainrot]

Scarlet Begonias - M!Han/Reader

MDI 18+ due to a legal but questionable (implied for now) age gap

A/N: This has been my project for, like, two months now? This is essentially an intro to the whole thing. The POV switches in the next parts. I've got like 50k words invested into this fucking thing. Tell me if you like it and I'll post more. I'm feral about this man me and @panicpixieplaygirl came up with. He's great, I love him, I hope you do too.

-

You hadn't even wanted to go to this frat party, but you were forcibly dragged along by your friend group. You refused to dress up for this, you didn't even want to be there and you hated these guys. In fact, you purposely dressed down for this shindig, jeans and a ringer shirt. By the time you got there, the party was in full swing and your friends literally ditched you at the first sight of a Sig Pi guy. It really pissed you off, you could probably walk away right this second and they'd be none the wiser. It was a very tempting idea, too tempting. It was a nice night and spending this night in a hot, half destroyed frat house with an inch of beer in the basement sounded foul. You balked at the idea of even being within five feet of a frat guy, they all thought they had game, really all they had was the clap. With a resigned sigh, you stepped inside, at least you'd get a free beer or two before you went home.

Inside was a pit of debauchery. You couldn't help but shiver at the thought that some of these people enjoyed this party, because it was kind of lame as shit. Half naked guys dancing poorly on some poor girl. You searched for any of your friends, you found one pinned on the couch under an especially handsy dude you recognized from the baseball team, maybe? It might've been soccer, you didn't actually give a fuck. 'Free beer, free beer, free beer. Then I leave.' was the mantra you kept repeating in your head. You approached the nearest cooler, grabbing two beers.. budweiser.. great, they didn't even have good beer? At least it was fucking free. You popped the cap off the first bottle using the nearest counter and drank it greedily, scoping out the party. A frat guy approached just then, you stopped drinking to blink at him plainly.

'Yes?' You stared at him with severe disinterest, hoping he was smart enough to at least understand social cues. He was not. Typical.

'You wanna smoke? Just got this shit, it's the best and I need a pretty girl to smoke with me-' You cut him off before he finishes his statement, putting your hand up.

'Absolutely not, I would rather suffer through another final right now than do anything with you.' You turned and started to walk away from him, hoping for the best outcome of tonight, going home immediately. You heard him call you a bitch under his breath but paid little attention because the next beat he was talking to some other girl with the same line. Fucking dumb..

You went to walk through the threshold when a gaggle of girls came in, ignoring you, making you step out of the way. Which, of course, you stepped on something causing you to stumble. However that something turned out to be a someone. Strong hands gripped both your arms, steadying you and setting you on your feet. You wanted to give whoever it was a piece of your mind, but as you turned you saw him. He was older, definitely not a fraternity member. Definitely not a student. You looked at him with confusion, for probably a second or two too long.

He was tall and scruffy and had these eyes.. everybody has eyes, yes. Everybody has unique eyes, yes.. but you thought these eyes would exist only once in human history and they were his. All hazel and pretty and dangerous, almost. Just almost. He was blinking back at you, probably waiting for you to speak, to literally say anything. He broke the staring contest.

'Y'allright?' His voice brought you back, all you did was nod. God, he was hot. So fucking hot.

'Yeah, thank you. I was just leaving. This party sucks.' It's his turn to nod, he glances around for a second before glancing at you again.

'Been to better, been to worse.' Oh fuck, you're hooked. You move away from the open door, moving out to the porch, you distinctly needed a minute. Holy shit, did you need some air. The handsome stranger walked out to the porch as well, stepping over to you. He had long legs, it took two steps and he seemed like he closed the gap immediately. You leaned against the rail, staring across the street at some of the buildings on campus, the streetlights giving everything an orange hue. The trees tall shadows and the crisp air had the faint reminder that fall was around the corner. You risked a glance at the man, seeing him lean against the rail, staring out like you were. He was handsome, his profile felt timeless. He could've been anything, in any lifetime and he'd fit in. You bit your lip, looking down at your hands.

'My name's Han..' Han.. you swallowed before speaking, trying to keep anything embarrassing down and out of the way before you opened your mouth. You told him your name and he smiled at you, it was crooked and his face nearly glowed in the white glow from the porch light.

'You got a pretty name, darlin'... What're you doin' in a place like this?' You responded with a scoff and rolled your eyes. No, no, no.. he was hot but you weren't that easy. 'Hey, I'm just askin'.. Jesus.' You looked to see him look mildly offended. Oh. Maybe he was making idle conversation. Okay, you'll bite.

'Dragged along to be abandoned by my friends, not even really what I wanted to do tonight. Actually, I definitely didn't want to do this tonight.' Good thing I did because I would've never seen this man. Even seeing him was enough. You watched him scratch that almost beard absent-mindedly. You casually wondered what it would feel like against your thighs. College guys were so boring. They were either pretentious, trying to be mysterious and mature, or total fucking idiots. But Han? He wasn't a college kid. He had the vaguest twang of an accent, he was older.. he had this air of well traveled, 'been there and done that' that no college kid could ever have. You sighed, looking away. Then you figured you should ask why was he here? 'Well, what about you? You seem a little old to be at a Sigma Pi social.' He laughed softly and you stared at his Adam's apple bob as he did.

'Oh, I am. They just buy a lot of weed.' Well, that explains it. He sold drugs to college kids.

'Gotcha. Then I've probably smoked some of your weed, because I buy my weed from Sig Pi.' You laugh, looking away. What a small world.

'You do? Wanna cut out the middle man?' You looked back to see that fucking smug smirk and you wanted to wipe it off his pretty face. You wanted to throttle him, his neck seemed perfect to wrap your hands around. That's when he pulled out a cigarette, Marlboro red 100s. 'Cowboy killers', that's what your dad and grandfather always called them. You used to steal them, because you weren't a cowboy, so they couldn't kill you. He watched you watch him, in silence. When he exhaled out of his nose, you breathed in. You could've sworn you could taste him on the smoke.

'I could cut out the middle man.. they charged me fifty bucks for an eighth..' He scoffed this time, shaking his head.

'Didn't even give ya the pretty girl discount? Real bastards.' He gave you that softer version of his smile and you were enthralled. God, did he have you hook, line, and sinker. That's what you get for taking the bait. He notices your shirt now, you aren't sure if it's because he was actually reading it as you turned to face him, or if it's because he stared at your tits.

'You actually listen to them?' He points to your shirt with the two fingers holding his cigarette. You stared at his hands. His nails were short. Fuck. He knew what he was doing.

You nod along at his question. 'Yeah, I love the Grateful Dead.' God, you felt stupid when he laughs softly. That changes when he smiles at you, okay, maybe he liked that.

'What's your favorite song?' Was he really going to quiz you? You leaned against the rail, staring off again.

'Friend of the Devil..' He grinned at you, all teeth and interest.

'Solid answer. I like Scarlet Begonias.' You nodded at him with a smile. Holy shit, I like him. You continue to drink the beer you nearly forgot you were holding, offering him the other one. He smiles, taking it and murmuring a soft 'Thank you'. You watch as he opens the beer with the most beat to shit zippo you've ever seen. He drinks, he drinks so beautifully. You watch the muscles in his neck move with every sip, you blink dumbly. He had you stupid into him. You saw how his hand wrapped around the cool bottle, his fingers just long enough where you could imagine they'd feel astounding in so many places. You were so screwed.

-

You finished drinking your beers, he smoked two more cigarettes. 'You want another beer?' You did say you'd get a free beer or two tonight..

'What the hell, sure.' You shrugged, expecting him to go inside and grab some, but as a guy wearing some Greek letters walked by with a six pack, he snagged two, the idiot didn't even notice at first. When he turned to confront Han, he just shook his head and walked inside. He opened both, handing you one.

'Does every frat guy here know and fear you?' He laughed and shook his head, looking at you with amusement.

'Fear me? No. But if they piss me off, no more weed.. no more acid.. no more shrooms.. you get the idea.' Your eyes widened. The most you had done was smoke, drink, and occasionally get stoned. Hearing that this guy sold that shit had your interest.

'I've never done those before..' He raised his eyebrows mid-swig.

'Oh.. want to? First time's free, second time'll cost ya.' You thought about it, but could you even trust this guy? He could see the conflict. The next thing you noticed was him holding his phone out to you. 'Put your number in, I'll give you a call sometime. I gotta head out.' You felt marginally disappointed he was leaving so soon. Then again, you hadn't even wanted to stay. It's not like you had any claim over this guy at all. Who knows, he might do this every night. He probably has a roster. Despite yourself, you put your number in his phone. Han drained his beer, stepping off the porch, down the steps. He walked away, but right at the edge of the light, he turned to face you with that smirk. 'I'll see ya.' As he disappeared down the street you realized you didn't even have his number. Even if you wanted to reach out you couldn't, if he never reached out to you, he was gone forever. You debated running after him, but that felt pathetic. You finished your own beer, tossing the bottle like Han had into the nearest container that would count as a trashcan. As you stepped down the stairs, all three of them, you felt.. like you missed him. Something about him. You didn't know what it was. When you got to the edge of the yard, you could see him still walking down the sidewalk, that very distinctive swagger made your heart beat a little harder. A little faster. Maybe he'd text you? Maybe he'd call, he seemed more like the calling type. You looked at your feet, feeling disappointed but glad you came, in a roundabout way. You went to walk home, realizing you had to go the same way as he did. You bit your lip, debating catching up to him. You decided to just walk normal, a nice pace. Maybe a little faster than normal... maybe. Fate apparently decided a nice, broken red light would help your situation, because he was stuck at the light waiting for the crosswalk light to appear across the street. You approached quietly, but he seemed to notice you immediately.

'What're you doin' here, doll? Followin' me?' This caused you to giggle. Giggle. Who were you? You smiled at him, maybe a bit more eager than you wanted to seem.

'No, I live down the street from here. You were headed the same way.' He nodded with a 'uh-huh' that made you think he didn't believe you. You rolled your eyes, huffing slightly in annoyance. God, he was so charming one second and irritating the next.

'Whatever.. Were you really going to call me?' He looks at you, slightly taken aback, his brows furrowed.

'Uh, yeah? Is this some kinda trick question?' Huh, maybe he did like you..

'No. I mean.. I just wasn't sure if.. forget it.' He grinned as you blushed, looking away. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. A bold move that made you flinch slightly, but he didn't pull away.

'You're cute. Why wouldn't I call ya?' He looked both ways, no cars. He started across the street, looking back at you. 'Get over here, girl, traffic ain't gunna wait on ya.' Your body instinctively moved closer to him, taking his outstretched hand. Something about that made you tingle all over. You shuddered. 'You don't live on campus, do you?'

'I have an apartment.' You left it vague, after all he was a stranger.. and you were still holding his hand despite being on the sidewalk. You let go, he let you. He looked down at you with this look. You couldn't place what it was, attraction? Interest? You didn't know him well enough to tell, but you knew he had looked at you this way the whole night.

'I'll walk you to it, unless my place is first. Then.. I dunno.' You fell into place beside him. Oddly enough, he was a gentleman. Flirty, but nothing that would push you away or turn you off. His house was first, it was small and old, clearly being worked on but it wasn't totally nice yet. You passed by that house everyday without knowing who lived there. Small world. 'This is me.. Unless you wanna come in?'

You debated it. Go into a strangers house? Your mother would have a literal fit. You sighed and he saw the internal debate.

'Don't worry if you don't. My feelings won't be hurt either way.' You felt like he might have been lying about that. What the hell, you only live once. You nodded, looking up at his handsome face.

'Okay. For a minute.' He smiled. A big genuine smile.

'I got a whole vinyl collection you can go through.' That made you excited, you loved that stuff. That was.. that was your shit. He liked the same stuff as you. Wow. You followed him through the gate, to the front door. He let you in and you realized his house smelled distinctly like weed and cigarettes.. maybe a hint of incense? The house seemed to be untouched from the 70s. You saw the horrendous wall paper and this ugly couch in the living room you walked into. It had a certain charm, it fit him. This was distinctly him.

However, the second the door closed behind you, you heard the biggest dog you've ever seen run across the house. He was massive. He noticed you and immediately became wary. He stayed by the couch, mumbling a low growl. Han looked at him with an exacerbated expression. 'Chewie, c'mon, we talked about this.' Chewie..

'Uh.. nice dog. I'm not going to ask if he's friendly.' Han laughed softly, placing a hand on your shoulder, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

'He's friendly when you know him. He's got.. issues. He's a rescue.' You nodded in understanding. Han strolled over to the dog, completely unphased. He crouched, and you got the most amazing view of his ass in those tight Levi's he wore. God damn.. you reminded yourself to thank Levi's for creating the 501 button fly. You watched him use both of his massive hands to nearly manhandle the dog as he pet him. 'You're a good boy, ain'tcha, Chewie? Good dog, buddy.' He stood and faced you again. You finally got a moment to admire all of him. The half buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled, his forearms looked strong. He looked strong. He was.. built in the kind of way a man gets when he does physical labor. But this guy sold drugs? What could he doing as a day job?

Chewie stood, walking to you with a purpose that made you freeze. He sniffed you, and you didn't dare move. Han came closer, which made you even more nervous. Chewie wasn't phased, he just nudged your hand with his massive head, requesting (demanding) attention.

'I think he chose me, check your tone.' You teased him, he laughed softly but when you met his gaze, there was a fire in his eyes. You swallowed as he smiled at you.

'Did you just steal my dog?' Han stared at you, blinking as you proceeded to love on Chewie. His brown fur all sorts of tones and shades of brown, a little black, some tan.. he really was gorgeous.

'God damn, you got an attitude..'

[faelapis]

the owl house ending was mostly very cute and wholesome. the kind of simple joy i was expecting. it was nice & it looked very pretty.

not too many gripes, because i've resigned myself to it being a very simple show thats gonna end in a simple way. which it did.

my only thing is... i wish they hadnt brought up the interesting moral question of "if all people think theyre doing the right thing, how do we tell the difference between their morality?" only to basically spit on it. that question is WAY above your pay grade, owl house. and saying "well the bad guys are just insincere hypocrites without real beliefs, so we don't have to think about it" is the worst kind of copout.

same goes for repeatedly saying "people are complicated :)" when everything about the conflict between king's dad and the collector was a series of misunderstandings after the Real Evil (the archivists) had already left. nobody need carry blame because nobody intentionally did anything. so people aren't actually that complicated.

but again. argh. i'm doing "the thing" again where i hold things made for 7 year olds up to the standards set by relatively more complex... cartoons. also made for 7 year olds. lol. but still. i can't expect that from a show where the main thing the protagonist needs to learn is that she is, in fact, a good person. so don't worry about it.

anyway! simple show, simple pleasures: i liked when luz got the cool fanart epic outfit upgrade with the dark sclera and demon aesthetic. i also liked amitys ponytail and willows short hair in the timeskip. i liked that the collector decided to take time figuring themself out but still visits. and i liked hunter being a palisman carver :)

[canmom]

i wish i had some kind of convincing theory of political change, especially on the like 'world scale'.

my country 'the UK' is implicated in what is happening in Gaza. both historically for its role in overseeing Mandatory Palestine that led to the creation of the state of Israel, and presently for our economic integration (especially arms sales) and diplomatic positioning as a geopolitical ally. for that reason, it feels like actions here ought to be able to do something to push the direction of what happens out in Palestine - more so than if I lived in another country.

turnout at London's pro-Palestine marches is broadly declining from the looks of things. from the peak around 800k a month ago, now the organisers report around 150k - still sizable but a decline of about 80%. and like, I kind of get why: we marched, the politicians held a vote which came down decisively against calling for a ceasefire, they made some mouth noises about humanitarian this and that, Suella Braverman got booted for stirring the pot too much, fucking David Cameron of all people crawled out of the woodwork to get sent over there for some reason, and meanwhile as you know there was a ceasefire for about a week (to which the UK was at best irrelevant and at worst an obstacle) and then the massacre picked right up where it left off.

newsworthy events that provoke this kind of protest response have a kind of half-life - when the news is 'more of the same', and there doesn't seem to be much avenue to do anything about it, people will gradually resign themselves to the situation. other things will come up in their life, going on apparently ineffectual marches feels like less of a priority. the government's strategy with this, like most large protests, was essentially 'they can't do anything to us, let it blow over' and it seems to be working out for them.

what may yet come about is increased membership in groups like Palestine Action who are using sacrificial tactics, mostly aiming to make Israeli weapons manufacturer Elbit Systems unable to operate in the UK through actions that intentionally end in arrest and sometimes imprisonment. they've had some success there.

still. supposing they continue to find success, and eventually Elbit fully shuts down its remaining 10 sites in the UK. would that alone meaningfully reduce the military capacity of the occupation? maybe not much, but we could hope that if similar successes were found in other countries, and it came with a broader shift towards divestment, it might become significantly less viable to operate as an aggressive ethnostate or suppress insurgencies and so on. perhaps even 'end of apartheid' style dramatic change to the structure of the state(s) in the Levant might end up being possible, eventually.

what's the timescale on that? i have no fucking idea, but it's surely at least a lot longer than the time it will take for the situation in Gaza to resolve to either a semi-permanent ceasefire, full-on annexation, or escalation into a bigger, messier war.

which brings me back round to the question of like, what can be meaningfully done from here, in the role of some bitch in the critical industry of "making videogames", to try to stop the massacre that's playing out right now? what dominoes can i push that will result in net fewer deaths from bombing and starvation?

i've ended up writing fairly often to my politician, who's (in the justifying narrative of representative democracy) supposed to be my vector for political action, with the most persuasive rhetoric I can muster. today she writes back a boilerplate response to say what she's been doing about arms sales to Israel - speaking up briefly in a debate about arms exports seemingly the most concrete thing. so far as i can tell nothing much changed as a result: lots of politicians made speeches, the government spokesperson gave a fairly predictable reply. this is pretty much what I expected, I don't really expect results from a liberal politician, but it's not a lot of effort to spend on maintaining the pressure.

obviously, if it was so easy to stop this conflict that a 31-year-old game developer in London could do it, it wouldn't still be happening. maybe there isn't an answer. at the same time like - the logic is pretty clear: genocide is up there as one of the worst possible things. the Gaza genocide certainly isn't the only one happening right now, but it is the one which my country is most actively supporting. it seems indisputable that if there is an action that would help to curtail a genocide, I am obliged to find it.

i've seen articles say that Israel is 'losing the war', which is in some senses true in that their ostensible objective is essentially impossible, diplomatic sentiment has shifted pretty hard against them around the world, dropping all those bombs is really expensive, and Hamas seem to have stayed pretty well hidden from them. this could totally end in another embarassing failure for their image of safety and military strength, which will probably make the money really sad for a while. their 'victory' - in terms of annexation or depopulation of Gaza - would still be a big mess they're not well equipped to handle, and it might be a step towards state failure.

but the bulk of palestinians in gaza are also 'losing the war' in the very concrete sense they've had their houses blown up and they're sitting in a freezing refugee camp about the size of a postage stamp, hoping the Americans get cold feet and Israel runs out of bombs before they find out if they'll die of cholera or shrapnel. 'the insurgency wins as long as they do not lose' may be true - Israel fails to achieve their objective as long as Hamas, or some inevitable successor insurgency, can fight another day and delay Israel's 'normalisation' in diplomacy - but goddamn is that a pyrrhic 'victory'. if I was a palestinian in Gaza, maybe I'd accept the logic of that tradeoff and put my faith in the only people who seem to be able to stand up to the ones bombing me, I don't fucking know. regardless it's a catastrophic (and repeated) failure of this world system that anyone is left choosing between slow annihilation or a strategic hecatomb.

so what's left to do, fucken... post through it? "what did you do to resist the gaza genocide of 2023" "oh i made some real angry posts on my tumblr blog and walked with a cardboard sign in London, England, 2200 miles away from Palestine" lol get real! that's pathetic!

basically i feel very powerless here. there's a lot of exhortation to do something about this, but I am not sure what the something that should be done is. I guess that's the reality of like... trying to go against the gradient of power, the enemy lays out the field and you do what little you can to find some fault line to exploit. but there's this persistent nagging feeling that like, there must be something I'm missing here, that this is somehow 'on me', and if I was smarter or braver - or more willing to burn my life down as a sacrifice and abandon the people who depend on me - I'd have more capacity to save peoples' lives in Palestine. that's a delusion of grandeur. but 'there is nothing I can really do that matters, I just have to witness the horror or turn away' is the easy cop-out, and I don't trust it either.

the left in this country is really weak. because it's so weak, whenever shit like this happens, it is not in a position to do fuck all about it. even recognising that problem, I also know I'm not much of a movement-builder. I'm trying to get involved in shit again - in my own capacity, not as a satellite of my ex - but my perpetually-exhausted adhd ass is not someone you want trying to run an org, it would be a disaster. but there must be some optimal niche I can fill right? some duty that is mine to fulfil in the great project of bringing about the good future? I can't seem to let go of this feeling, that I'm being derelict in my responsibility to use the tools and talents I've been given by chance, but I can't figure out what exactly that responsibility is and how to know when I've finally met it.

[stellaluna33]

13. My favorite line of dialogue from this fic was [xyz]. What inspired it?

14. My favorite line from this fic was [xyz]. What inspired it?

Ngl - I've never read any of your stuff, because I've never actually WATCHED Gilmore Girls (i know... I'll see myself out).

BUT. Whats YOUR favourite lines of dialogue, or lines you've written from anything you've written, and why?

Aw, you're so sweet for asking! 😅

You're going to make me compliment myself, huh? Well, ok, haha. I'll be pulling stuff from my multi-chapter fic, The Long and Winding Road.

13. Favorite line of dialogue? This was hard for me, because even though I feel like I'm pretty good at writing dialogue for these characters, everything seemed kind of lackluster to me in isolation. But this is one I've always chuckled over even though absolutely nobody else has ever mentioned it to me. 😂 "Well, I was kind of in the mood for 'the Great Gatsby' today. You know, I can enjoy the fact that Leonardo DiCaprio finally looks like a grown man, and you can enjoy telling me how 50 Cent really captures the decadence of the Lost Generation…"

This line of dialogue was inspired by... my own feelings about Leonardo Di Caprio (I NEVER got the attraction back in his heartthrob days, haha) and Baz Luhrman's the Great Gatsby, and which of these characters I thought would agree with these opinions. I don't know, I just thought it seemed like something they would say. 😂

14. Favorite line? I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this one before, so people are probably bored of hearing it, but it's: Everything about him was uncontrolled and wild, and so were her feelings about him, and she was never entirely comfortable with that. Falling in love with Jess had been like being caught in a riptide and dragged out to sea. Dean had been the slippery rock she tried desperately to cling to, but her strength just gave out in the end. She could do nothing but drown.

I don't know, I just really like it, haha. I'm a visual artist first, a poet second, and a fiction writer only third, so I tend to think in images, symbolism, and metaphor a lot. I like it. And I have a longtime obsession with the sea, so I love a good maritime metaphor. I just think the ocean (something so huge, beautiful, powerful, and life giving, but also brutal and terrifying) and the way humans interact with it make for some really vivid comparisons to powerful human emotions. And it seemed like a good metaphor for what happened to these characters, that this was a character who liked being able to plan and control her own life, and this love was too inconvenient and too overpowering to allow her to do either of those things. And accepting it felt more like losing a fight than receiving a gift. Like, she wasn't happy about it, more exhausted and resigned. (And if you're thinking that's not a great setup for a healthy relationship, you'd be right! 😅)

(The questions are here if anyone wants to ask)

[tanetime]

So my plan after finishing Wyneer's current build + his Survivor and Fool of April skins was to make his Guest of Honour skin, since it's fairly simple to add and skinning Wyneer's masks is a lot of work!

However, upon posing people with the question "On a scale from one to ten, how disappointed would you be if Wyneer's next skin was Guest of Honour?" I recieved responses such as: "If you did that, I would cry" which isn't really what I asked but OK.

So. If you had to pick one. Would you prefer to see his Triumphant or Moonbound skin added to his mod in the far future?

(PLEASE BE AWARE THAT HOW WELL THE SKINS TRANSLATE TO THE REAL GAME IS SUBJECT TO LIMITATIONS)

Rambling under the cut.

You might be wondering why I'm even asking. Well, designing 10+ masks for each skin is a gigantic pain in the ass. It takes a lot of time before I even start making sprites, so I don't want to waste my time.

Here's some questions you're probably wondering.

Are the skins going to look exactly like this in the game?

ABSOLUTELY NOT but I will try my best to make them 1:1. Moonbound will look the closest to his portrait art.

Will the one I don't vote for never get added?

Never say never but please be nice to me.

Which one will be easier on you?

Probably Moonbound.

Which one has the coolest extra features?

Probably Triumphant, but I'm not going to tell you what they are.

Are you still planning to add a secondary skin to these skins? I saw one for Triumphant Jet Black Mask before!

It's planned. Moonbound's paired mask is Radiant Face. Triumphant's paired mask is Jet Black Mask (and Ink Black Mask, if/when that mask gets added).

...Well why the hell would I vote for Moonbound then?

Triumphant Wyneer doesn't wear masks. He wears headbands/crowns instead. Moonbound Wyneer wears masks, so his masks have unique "lunar" designs. Isn't that nifty?

A surprising yet heartwarming amount of people don't like the skins where Wyneer has his mask off (which is also kind of fucked up to think about now that I'm writing that down).

bc he looks cool???? tf u mean

I wanna see the mask designs for one skin, but I'd rather pick the other. Will I see what the one I don't vote for would have looked like? :(

I'd like to draw them someday.

I'm one of the few people who has played with/as Wyneer. If his Triumphant skin removes his mask, then [question about how this will effect particular parts of his mod]?

it is probably a secret. do trust that i've though about it and resigned myself to this hell anyway

I don't like either of these skins and prefer a different skin from his ArtFight ref sheet...

That is not a question.

[purgemarchlockdown]

New Apple

(Also Known as: Nott Broke, I am now writing the WKTD-Amane Cross Analysis. This is also the Trans Amane Momose Thesis)

(CWs: Cults, Child Abuse, Child Death, Body Horror, Homophobia, Transphobia.)

(Spoilers for We Know The Devil and Milgram.)

I am a unrepentant fan of the Visual Novel We Know The Devil. I love it dearly, I think it's one of the best Things ever made.

I am also a...fan, to say the least, of Amane Momose. I think about her every day. And as a result I've thought about these two things together a lot. I think there's a lot of thematically cohesion that can be derived from putting the two together.

Since this is Milgram Focused, I'm going to put an explanation for what the plot of WKTD is first before continuing.

WKTD is a 2015 VN about Three Bad Kids at a Christian Summer Camp who are sent to meet The Devil one day in a cabin in the woods. This game is about Queer Religious Horror and has great prose and you should play it-

Now, there are already comparisons that can be drawn to Amane's cult and the game's main premise, but let's discuss each of the three kids first.

No Prince For The Princesses

Starting with Jupiter. Jupiter is the tomboyish good kid of the bunch or, more accurately, tries her best to be the good kid to minimal success.

Laughing off a head injury isn't all that Jupiter's good at; she has the best grades in class, and coaches make her starter on whatever team has the most pressing need for someone who can do sports. She's a perfect role model, except for how she always misses the winning goal and she always blanks on the last question. She leads when no one else wants to, which is always.

Jupiter can keep up until right when it matters the most. It's here where I mention Jupiter snaps a hairband against her wrist, a common tactic used as an alternative to self-harm.

Her place in the dysfunctional group of problem kids becoming clear as her issues with being the perfect good kid and her immense self-hate and loathing start to seep through. Jupiter struggles under this weight of expectations and pleasing others but tries to pretend she an:

Neptune: ascetic monk at not giving a shit.

To her own detriment, she hangs out with the Worst Group in the Camp of Worst Kids just so she can get them to stay away from her. If they just like her enough then they won't bother her. Even if she personally dislikes them and how they act.

Not that she...enjoys acting like this. She's disgusted by the idea of the Counselor liking her. Because:

Jupiter: He likes people he can make a little uncomfortable and won't give any trouble about it.

Though as Venus says, that's exactly why he likes their group.

Jupiter is someone who's resigned to reality being like this. To being considered a bad kid even though she tried so hard. Sure it's unfair and people have tried a lot less than her but:

Jupiter: You can still get better at this, if you try, you know?

Even I can say "I'm sorry" Even I have hope I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it!

Anyway, Jupiter Kisses Girls. She Likes Women. She's a Lesbian. She has a Seven Minutes in Heaven Scene with Neptune where they Kiss-

That kiss having a lot of relevance to how (specifically) a t1 Amane attempts to approach certain taboo ideas and concepts.

Jupiter: It's not real if we don't say it out loud, right?

Amane tends to talk around things in T1. It's not immediately noticeable but it's prevalent in a lot of her speak. Specifically when taboo ideas come into play. Instead of saying anything directly she talks around it.

(Apostle and Death)

Amane: Okay! I’m kind, so I shall forgive you. That’s nice, isn’t it? If my parents were in my place, you would have been lectured for another hour.

This is my favorite example, as Amane is just calling her parents unkind here. But, Amane isn't really good at talking around things. In the same VD, when faced with the knoweldge that she's being underestimated she immdieatly talks about her genuine feelings about being treated like a child, and being talked down to because of it. Being very forward and open about her own emotions.

Outside of that we have instances of her showing interest in things that are believed to be taboo, or at least in things discouraged by her community.

(20/06/27, Amane’s Birthday)

Amane: I don’t need it. I’ll gratefully accept your well-wishes, but I don’t eat things like that. Also…… Shidou-san, I can’t say I’m especially fond of the way you assume that all children will love frivolous things like this. Shidou: ………… Is that so… I apologise. I’m sure everyone else will be happy to eat it, so don’t worry about it. Sorry for intruding. Amane: ………… ……cake……

She even disrespects the blue flag in Purge March, the flag representing "discarding vulgarity"

Considering both how a lot of the generally aesthetics of Magic and Purge March seem to be considered frivolous. And her being forbidden to go to an amusement park.

T1Q5:When you go to an amusement park, what do you like to ride? A: That is a place I should not go to.

I think we can infer that these things are consider vulgar and wanting them anyway. She wants something outside of what she has. Something that she tries to Hide in her interrogations. (Interrogations)

T1Q3: If you were allowed to do anything, what would you want to do? Nothing really. I am not lacking anything.

T1Q17: What would you do if the world ends tomorrow? If everything ends? Then, I might do all sorts of things I have never done before.

(Put a pin in these interros, we are Going to come back to them.)

It's wrong to want such a thing, she knows this well. That's why she doesn't say it out loud. It's not real until she does. No one can punish her for it if she doesn't say anything.

Except...they Do. Same with Jupiter, people who didn't try as hard to get into the "proper, good girl" summer scouts got in when Jupiter didn't. Amane studies so hard and yet she only gets a 83% when Kotoko is tutoring her.

(20/06/18)

Kotoko: There, I’ve finished marking. 83%. How do I put it… Even though you act like this, it’s not like you’re super brilliant at studying or anything, huh.

She just blanks at the last question.

Misses the winning goal.

Something about Her is...inherently holding them back from this illustrious standard of being a good girl. It's just, impossible for her to be one. She knows this herself.

Only if, only if, only if I could be a good girl

And even though she tries, she Can't do anything to change that. In the same way that no matter how hard Jupiter tries, people instinctively understand that she's something Other somehow. The both of them being harmed over and over again in an attempt to live up to ideals that they will...never be able to live up to.

The system of We Know The Devil works like this, you choose two kids and leave one behind each hour. Leave one behind enough and they become the devil. The worst kid out of all of them.

Jupiter does her best but her best is never going to be enough. So if she gets excluded enough times...

Even the best kid has the devil inside her.

Jupiter wants to touch, to hit, to pull.

Venus: I wish I could be meaner. I wish I could be so much meaner.

She's never going to be able to make up for this incessant greedy Want.

Her hairband snaps here, she can't keep the devil away for much longer, and she knows it.

Jupiter: You know, I actually liked when the captain talked about how heaven was on merit; as long as you do good things, maybe you can one day be good… Jupiter: But then they said we don’t believe that anymore and it’s only what’s in your heart that matters. Jupiter: Just when I think I got it right, they changed it. Jupiter: I can try hard, but I think… Jupiter: God knows my heart isn’t really in it. And that was my only shot, right?

Amane considers love a showcase of mercy,

T2Q9: What does love mean to you? A: To spread mercy with no limits.

And considers her punishments love.

T2Q2: Do you believe you were loved? A: Very much deeply.

I suppose when you think about it, trying to beat the devil out of someone is mercy.

But, you can't really do anything about it if someone does want the devil.

Jupiter: It's wrong to want such a thing, you know that, don't you? So don't do it. I still know that much.

In each color ending, the devil gets destroyed. The devil only getting one moment for whatever they wanted.

For revenge, for love, for "please take me back."

One Singular Moment to live as they are before having it burnt out of them.

...Someone had to have opened that door at the end of Purge March

(Milgram T1 Glitched Character Voicelines)

Amane: Ahh! I'm so sorry...! I'm sorry...! I'm sorry for breaking the rules!

Lukewarm, I Spit You Out

We have more bad kids to go through, so let's talk Neptune.

Neptune is, to be blunt, a self-proclaimed bitch. She doesn't act like she's supposed to belong her which is exactly why she belongs here. She uses profanities, sneaks alcohol into the camp, and the summary of this game calls her a mean girl. Though this meanness of hers betrays a certain amount of care and worry for her group, or, at least they like to think of it that way:

Neptune is very kind or possibly super mean and hates us. But that's okay. She's really funny.

This kindness of hers comes out in many ways. She's concerned for Jupiter, trying to get her to actually give a shit about herself, especially when she does so much work.

Neptune: I mean like, aren't you doing fine? Neptune: Aren't you trying harder than literally everyone else here? Neptune: You're so chill about everyone's bullshit it makes me so mad and then you won't extend even the slightest of that chill to yourself and that makes me EVEN SO MADDER. Neptune: Can't you just be a little less…good?

And wants Venus to get out of his egg, to let himself be a bit of a bitch, and stop apologizing for himself when he is doing nothing wrong.

Neptune: Wait, I got it. I dare you to not say sorry for the rest of the night. Jupiter: Oh my god. Venus: I can do that! Jupiter: …can he though? Neptune: No it's perfect. Neptune: It'll fix something annoying, and this will make everyone's life easier, and all of us win. Venus: Is it really annoying? Neptune: You shouldn't have to apologize for things you don't need to apologize for.

Neptune deeply cares about the people around her, it just comes out as harsh words and actions. She wants to make Jupiter's life a living hell so that she's forced to say that it hurts.

Neptune: People are supposed to get hurt by things. It's fucked up to not. It's not good for you.

Though, as Venus calls out, the way Neptune acts doesn't fully come from self-confidence.

Venus: ...your problem Neptune is. Venus: You think being mean is more honest. Venus: But you're just as bad as Jupiter. Venus: And me.

Neptune, like the other two, deeply hates herself. Like Jupiter she has a consistent "tell" that shows she's the devil. She throws up this black ichor-like substance. Poison really. The only thing she can say. She's a bad kid through and through.

Now, Amane is self-proclaimed annoying.

Es: Regardless of whether you’re a child or an adult… you are beyond annoying. Amane: Oh, my. I am honored by your praise. Es: As I said. Amane: (giggles)

She takes Real Pride in being, a little shit to people.

20/06/03

Fuuta: ……huh? What’s your problem? You’re just leaving all your meat? What a weird kid. Amane: You say that, but you’re not eating all of your food either. ……are you not able to eat your vegetables? Even though you’re an adult. Fuuta: Huh, what, so you’re just eating grass? What are you, a rabbit or something? Since you’re just a brat, you should be eating your meat properly. You won’t grow if you don’t. Amane: ……you make some really funny jokes, don’t you, Fuuta-san.

This behavior is mostly present in T1, mostly cause T1 is Amane's testing period. She's trying to see what she can get away with. These behaviors disappearing by T2 because she learns that she can't get away with much. Introducing us to a less playful, more angry and genuinely despairing Amane. (Of Blessedness and Punishment)

Amane: This is unforgivable! I won’t forgive you! (screams)

That isn't to say Amane doesn't genuinely want to help out though, even with her more aggressive attitude. In fact she goes out of her way to "help" Fuuta and responds to Yuno's questions and worries honestly and patiently.

(23/06/27, Amane’s Birthday)

Yuno: By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So I kinda wondered if you thought like that. Amane: ……I don’t think that. Being born into this world is the first miracle any person experiences, and is something to celebrate. Even if after birth I was put through trial after trial, the value of that will never disappear.

Amane is kind, genuinely so. She helps the cat, she tries her best to "guide" people back to the better path. The problem is, is that her want to help gets tied up in her community and her worldview. Causing more harm than she would like, it's almost like she can only spit out doctrine when that isn't the case.

Amane: Hm. Is that so? Are the prisoners who weren’t forgiven feeling lost right now? Maybe they need our faith as well.

Outside of that, Amane is rather opinionated, she tries to keep it down but it seeps out anyway. She's expressed numerous times her frustration with being treated like a child (ie: being treated like she has no rights of her own.) And expresses that openly and bluntly.

(20/06/13)

Shidou: I…… I just don’t understand. If everything about MILGRAM is true…… why did a child like you have to become a murderer? Just imagining what sort of circumstances must have led to that, it makes me so sad…… Amane: ……*sigh*. Is that right. I don’t think I’m going to get along with you, Shidou-san.I don’t agree with the fact you refuse to acknowledge that I have my own free will, and that I should be held accountable for my actions, just because I’m a child. I may have only been alive for 12 years, but all the choices I’ve made, even if they weren’t the best ones, were entirely my own. What point is there in you getting sad when I have no regrets myself?

It's easy to call her annoying or petulant for this, especially when Shidou (seemingly) is just concerned for how how a child is in prison of murders. And again she Does act annoying on purpose.

But Shidou is being actively patronizing and forcing his view of Amane Onto her. When Amane rebukes this, instead of apologizing or reevaluating he dismisses what she says. Something that deeply frustrates her.

Neptune: I'm an evil bad slut right? I'm a bitch and a flirt. Neptune: I'm a bitch because I let people know when they walk over me. Neptune: I'm a flirt because boys keep talking at me. Neptune: And this is somehow my problem, because they can't get over themselves and leave me alone? Neptune: How is that fair? Why should I get hurt by that? It makes me so mad! Neptune: Why would I be anything but MAD about all this stupid obnoxious BULLSHIT.

You’re sorry? I don’t care! Please, go ahead and die already Remember MY cries, MY repents, MY words of “I’m sorry” that I said to you?

Amane cares a lot about being treated Properly, about the people around her being treated Properly. She can't really...accept injustice. She broke one of her cult's doctrines because she wanted wrap up what was probably a Small Wound at worst judging by the state of the cat. She's not going to waver just because the people around her believe otherwise.

Amane: ……I’m fine. I don’t know what you’ve done or what it is you’re worried about, but I think if there’s something you believe in, you should stay true to it. It’s not something that should waver just because other people said something. I personally don’t plan on changing my own beliefs even if I’m told I’m wrong either……

Amane believes in the idea that people can get better, and wants to see people get better even if she can't. She's going to help even if she has to be Violent to do so.

Neptune: You asked me to come out. So I'm coming out. The door opens and it's her but it's not her She grabs Venus and crushes him against the wall like he's a little doll.

Amane: Don’t you think it’s a good opportunity to be reborn? If, right now, you could shake off those around you trying to drag you down to depravity, and could change––

When Neptune's the devil she forcibly tries to turn the other two kids into the devil alongside with her. She knows this whole situation is a nightmare and wants to force the two into accepting who they really are, even if it meant hurting them.

Why should they be the ones to suffer when their trying so hard to be good? Why should they be suffering when they already ARE good?

Neptune: Doesn't it feel unfair? You're already good, so why do you have to try so hard to be good? It makes me mad. They want you to prove you're good. But you're already so good. What is that? Why do they do that?

We must not give into them, they are the ones that should be judged

Why does She need to prove that she's righteous when the people around her can break the same rules she does and get away with no consequences?

I don’t need it any more, if you’re going to break your vow Here and now, it’s my turn to tear you apart

It's just so Unfair. Why is she the one getting hurt for no good reason? Why was the cat the one who got hurt for something that wasn't even its fault? It's just not right. None of this is right.

Neptune: Does that kid look happy to you? Well I guess we have different opinions and you will have to stop me from making him into what he is trying very hard not to be.

Help Me God, I'm In Love

We have one more kid to go through.

Venus is known for being very much a doormat, and very easy to push around. A small detail when their sitting down to listen to the Bonfire Captain's story is that Venus tries his best not to take up space.

Venus sits with his legs crossed, taking up as little space as he can, which is at most not very much.

And As mentioned before he constantly apologizes for himself, even when it isn't even his fault. That dare Neptune gives him? He immdieatly fails it, the sorry is an instinct, he does it automatically.

Though even then, Venus is known to be...a bit of a little shit. Maybe even quite Mean. He has a bite to his words and can be extremely judgemental. Not that he seems to notice .

Jupiter: Do you think he notices how much of a jerk he is sometimes? Neptune: I wish.

Amane: An arts university, though…… Does that mean you’re good at drawing, then? It may be a bit rude to say, but that’s rather unexpected.

(I Love how Amane implies that she thought Mikoto was too boring to be an artist. Incredible.)

Not only that but he's strongly opinionated, often surprising the people around him with them and how pointed and critical he can be. The people around him being so used to how shy and docile he seems.

Jupiter: Why not you. You're safe. You're like a puppy. You're harmless. Venus: …did you lose your nerve? Jupiter: Except when you talk.

He doesn't mean to be mean on purpose, he doesn't even like being mean, but it just comes out of him. He can't stop himself. He's so angry and bitter about certain things that his real feelings bleed out of him.

Neptune: Wow Venus I'm ALMOST impressed. Neptune: You are, deep down, kind of a little shit. Venus: I didn't mean it in a mean way. I wasn't teasing. Neptune: That's so much worse, Venus. Venus: I guess I just don't get it? Venus: I don't like being mean and I don't want to be mean so I try really hard not to be mean. Venus: I don't get any of the 'just kidding' because it's not just kidding.

But Venus is easy to pick on, he smiles weirdly, he tries his best to avoid causing too much conflict, and the idea that Venus is "not like the other boys" get floated around pretty early depending on what interactions you chose, and Jupiter and Neptune discuss this their 10AM interaction:

Neptune: Are you seriously worried about him? Jupiter: Maybe. A little. Jupiter: He's weird. Not in a bad way, necessarily? Jupiter: But maybe in a bad way, possibly. Jupiter: Sometimes I don't even know what he is.

Jackalope: That isn’t even really Amane Momose anymore. You’ve awakened something much bigger.

There's something....different about Venus, like Jupiter and Neptune before him. Everyone can tell, and thus treats him differently for it but he's just not exactly sure what that...Is.

And it's so Frustrating.

Venus: …I don't know what's wrong with me.

Venus: But I can't. Not when it comes to this. Jupiter: What is "this"? Venus: Whatever they want out of me that's not fixing radios. Venus: To be tougher? To grow up? To-what's that?

He's jealous, so deeply jealous of Jupiter and Neptune and he doesn't even know why.

Venus: I'm mad about a lot of things I guess. Jupiter: Liar Jupiter: You're not mad. Jupiter: You're jealous. Jupiter: Why are you so jealous. Jupiter: It's flattering. But it's weird. Venus: I don't know.

Muu: ……hey, are you listening to me? What are you staring at……? Amane: I’m not staring at anything. Muu: Liar, you definitely are……

Amane: ……cake……

He wants...something from them, he doesn't know what but it's something important to him. Something that would make him feel like he's himself and not...whatever he is. It's not even like he necessarily minds being different. He doesn't even think he can be anything else.

Venus: I know I'm bad at getting anyone to like me and I'm weird and everyone else can deal even though I can't, but I can't. Venus: I'm just going to be like this. I'm not going to be any different. Jupiter: You're asking to get beat up. Venus: I don't care.

T2Q20: How do you feel about you not being like everyone else? A: Nevertheless I was born as myself, so I'm happy.

This deep want appears in Everything he does. Everything he does is to somehow get that Thing he Wants the Most. He can attribute it to something else but everyone can tell he wants Something.

Neptune: Venus, your problem is that you are very nice. But you want something. And you think being nice is going to give it to you. But it never will. And until you figure out what it is you want. Every kindness of yours will be full of that want.

Amane: Ah, I am looking forward to it! Seeing whether your judgement will align with that of these higher standards! If that is the case, maybe Milgram would be the right world for us to live in, rather than the outside world!

Milgram relies on your judgement, isn’t that right? In that case, you could become the mediator for a far more righteous world!!

That isn't to say he Isn't afraid of being found out. Of having the kind of person he is being revealed. In a game of truth or dare he chooses dare because:

Venus: I mean, it's kinda like Jupiter said? Truth is embarrassing and dares could get you hurt. Getting hurt is way less scary.

But then the contradiction of this gets pointed out to him, people can be embarrassing with dares as well. It's easy to hurt and embarrass someone.

I've already mentioned that Amane hides...a lot, she tends to talk around things and use double meanings and what not. But she also doesn't want to seem frivolous or wasteful. She wants to stay seeming mature and smart and pure. Being immature is dangerous to her, another reason for people to view her as useless and weak. Another reason to get hurt.

She isn't that. She can prove it. She's not greedy or materialistic.

Venus: I don't want to be strong. I don't want to be that sort of person at all.

She doesn't want anything.

Venus: I want them within me and without me. All through and about me. I want feathers in my lungs and eyes on my skin. I want my heart to see and my lungs to fly.

Nothing at all.

T1Q17: What would you do if the world ends tomorrow? If everything ends? Then, I might do all sorts of things I have never done before.

This is when I reveal Venus is Trans.

Venus is Trans! She uses She/Her, I've been using He/Him for her previously to reveal she's trans like how the VN reveals she's trans.

Venus wants to reveal the truth, to be seen as she is, to have:

That wing to see the truth and that eye to lay it bare.

She wants to be honest and live as herself. To really Be Her. When she becomes the devil she says it's nobody's fault but hers. She wants this. She wants this so much.

She's not doing it cause she was forced or coerced she did it cause she Wanted To. She wanted to do it so badly. She does it with such glee it's honestly terrifying. She killed out of hate and duty and Enjoyed It.

The devil is lonely. We kicked out the devil and it must miss us. It keeps begging to be let back, to let it in.

And Amane Did.

Smoke and Honey

Amane Momose is undeniably monster-coded.

Jackalope: That isn’t even really Amane Momose anymore. You’ve awakened something much bigger.

Amane: Right now, I am both Amane Momose and I am not. I am speaking on behalf of our faith.

Amane: Yes. It is only natural for a person(/human) to apologize to another for breaking a promise. Es: … Amane: Why are you looking so doubtful? Are you not human?

This happy pinky promise hurts to break

There's so much to discuss that if I did do it in detail we would get so set off track very badly, but Amane Momose is Other. She's the Other, she's not human. She's never Been Human. Atleast not by the standards of her cult.

In the Milgram Cat Symbolism, Cats has been highly associated with sin. Yuno portrays her cat self as the most honest but also sinful version of herself. Kazui does the same. Amane being the cat, implicates her as a sinful force in the world. Something dangerous and terrifying that needs to be destroyed.

Amane Momose, somehow, is a threat to normal human existence (at least in the existence of the cult.) She's too opinionated, too dedicated, too Bad of a kid. Having her exist at all as she is, is a threat. She doesn't Want to stop being herself, she's supposed to want to stop. Humans aren't supposed to act like she acts. What if that stubbornness was directed at something against the cult?

Adults also hate perfect kids who love the world so much they can't stop themselves from saving it.

We Need to Destory The Devil No Matter What or Who it is. To choose someone to act as the scapegoat, the worst girl, the one kid too weird, too strange, too threatening.

What does Amane do? She's already a liability, just a child, useless and unhelpful. What if she was destructive? Better to teach her now to be better, right?

It's not like she isn't destructive, it's true. She does harm. Horrible harm actually. I completely understand wanting to restrain her for those reasons.

But, she had One Moment, and it was ripped away from her.

Jupiter: If I taste what it's like, I know, there's no way I'll be happy being human ever again.

I Wonder what else is left for her now.

[im-quite-happy-44]

salt, silver & iron... act one, part two masterlist

10th February 2024                         12:01am

The lift dinged, and I could hear a low whistle. "Straight into the office." They said, glasses reflecting the tall windows on floor twenty. "That's a classy move."

They were absolutely right. The open-plan space was the classiest I had ever seen, by far. A little divider in a straight little pattern matched the lamps, and the table legs : all silver.

"This is Sir John Fairfax's office." (He wore a suit, and a rapier hung from the top of his leg. Lockwood.) No shit, Captain Obvious. It's on the top floor, isn't it?

"This doesn't make sense. John Fairfax doesn't need us. He's famous, he's rich. He built Fairfax Iron-" He looked ready to go on but the other man interrupted before he could.

"He built this whole building." It was his foot (and longer strides) which reached the rug beneath the seats in the middle of the floor first.

"Don't you think it's a bit grim that -" Her steps were light, even on the hard wooden floor of Sir John Fairfax's office. None of the metal on her belt jingled as she walked. She was silent. Unnoticeable. "-someone's made this much money off the problem?"

"I deserve something for keeping the world safe at night." Sir John Fairfax turned out to be right behind them. They swung around, the person I was half sure was Lockwood in the middle. "Don't I?"

"Oh God, I'm so sorry." Lucy something? (I should've checked the files.)

"No, you're right, it is grim." He sighed, staring at them. "The problem has disfigured the whole world." Then, in the same tone, "You can come out now, Niki."

I pulled away from my hiding place. Lockwood took in his stride the fact there was a hidden spy there the whole time (the girl looked a little shocked, and if the other was much surprised he hid it quite well, just looking the slightest... resigned) and held out his hand.

"A pleasure. To meet you, sir."

John took his hand with small distaste.

"Anthony Lockwood." Eh, guessed. "Ah, George Karim and Lucy Carlyle." He said, nodding his head to each of them, respectively. "We are Lockwood & Co."

"Ah, of course." (He already knew they were coming, DEPRAC had warned him.) "The infamous." Lockwood puffed up a little -- perhaps he thought that was a good thing. "Well, take a seat. Under the sprinklers."

Lockwood looked up and laughed a little -- just to be polite, I guessed. He seemed to be the face -- and voice -- of Lockwood & Co. Makes sense.

༻🕱༺

"I have to say, we didn't expect to be dealing with you personally when we answered your ad." Says Lockwood, after they had all sat down on the one sofa (indeed beneath the sprinklers).

"We know." I said, standing straight beside Fairfax's chair (eyes turned to me as I had not yet spoken). I waved vaguely at Lockwood's crisp suit and tie. "You're underdressed."

Fairfax smiled underneath his hand (his eyes barely crinkled, but I could tell). He carried on. "It's a delicate situation." A pause. "Best handled discreetly." I could see Lockwood filing away that information -- putting together the pieces. I felt a little like he was the kind of person to be paid for their silence. "I have decided to... let go of a few properties, including Combe Carey Hall in Berkshire.

"Nice enough place, but it has a rather stubborn collection of visitors."

Eleanor brought a water jug and five cups to the little coffee table in the middle of the seats.

"Something I've worked very hard to keep out of the papers and about which my prospective buyer knows nothing."

I thanked Eleanor quietly, eyes still on the conversation.

"So you need it made safe before the buyer visits." (It wasn't a question, rather a confirmation.) Lucy's voice was soft and light, and didn't ring out across the room in quite the same way as Lockwood or Fairfax's did. The slightest bit of firmness with.. curiosity -- I must admit I'm not completely used to that tone, but I can spot the lilt.

Fairfax didn't smile. "Exactly. And I cannot risk damage, so there can be no flares or explosives."

As Fairfax continued, looking at Lockwood, I saw Lucy and George share glances. (Were they dependent on explosives? I hope not, didn't they burn a house down with a flare? That would certainly be a bummer).

"It's a dangerous job, to be done quickly and under the radar." He narrowed his eyes. It was time to hear the pitch. "I'm getting quotes from every significant outfit in London. So, to be frank, the only way an agency of your stature could get it is by underbidding."

I could see protectiveness brewing behind Lockwood's eyes. Strange, Lockwood was someone I felt I knew, perhaps in a past life. Maybe he was just easy to read. "Our service is just as good as our larger competitors, and we don't need to chase down cut rate jobs." Eh. No sense of smartness could hide that big of a feint.

"You lie like a politician." Fairfax said immediately. He saw it too, it seemed. "But I started out in casinos, Mr. Lockwood." He paused again, looking straight at Lockwood. (Drama queen) "I can always spot a bluff."

George seemed uncomfortable. Eyes turned to him as he leaned forward. "Do you think you'll get discretion from Fitz and Rotwell? Every decision they make gets debated by the committee."

"And you need something more..." Lucy trailed off, a little overwhelmed, I guessed.

"Nimble?"

"Yes," She said, giving me a grateful look, finding her voice once more. "Like us. A small independent."

"We are the only agency who can do this job the way you need it doing." That's a claim. (His eyes are very pretty in the light of the floor to ceiling windows)

Fairfax smiles (predatorily) "Nice pitch." The smile's gone. "But I work very closely with DEPRAC, and I don't think this is a job they'll let you do."

Lockwood shifts uncomfortably. "That's... why it's probably best they don't hear about it." I smile, a little mischievously.

"Rotwell just quoted me ninety grand. I won't pay you a penny more than the fine you owe DEPRAC. What is it? 40? 50?"

"60." Lockwood corrected him. "Actually. You're obviously a busy man, Sir John, so let's keep it simple." He crossed his legs, left over right, and put his pale hands delicately in his lap. "You pay our fine, and we'll fix your house. So... Do we have a deal?"

I looked at Fairfax's face. I went over to the cabinet, and pulled out a check. "20-40?" I said. He nodded.

I passed it to Lockwood, twenty whole grand on it, and his hand shook at little as he took it. I smiled at him. "Take the money and run."

༻🕱༺

"You seemed very... helpful, Niki." Fairfax sat, sipping the water as the ice slowly melted. (there was no lemon, I remember when Eleanor was first appointed, she put lemon in his water, and she was almost fired before you could tell Fairfax truthfully that you thought that unfair. Thank God he listened. It would be a very different job if he hadn't, that first time)

"You know I like an underdog, sir." I stood straight. He nodded.

"This is a delicate matter, as I'm sure you heard."

"I did, sir."

"Good. Then you will understand why you are being appointed to Lockwood & Co."

I paused. "Sir?"

"You will stay with them as much as possible. You will accompany them on the visitation to Combe Carey Hall."

I didn't really mind. I don't have any plans. You nodded. "Yes, sir."

He looked at you. "Dismissed." You walked to the elevator. "Oh, and, Niki?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If they can't fix this particular problem... Well. Clean up the loose ends?"

[devilbombers]

Hhhhiiiiii!!! This is the same anon from the yuri ask!!! 1st thank u soo much for answering my question 💕 & 2nd PLS DO GO OFF about how u feel negatively towards yuri PLSSSSSS!!! *clutches on to your shoulders like a mad man* it's not that I don't want to feel bored with yuri I genuinely WISH I could find a good yuri series but it's sooo hard & at some point u do get kind of tired of digging through all the other garbage yuri series that's out there & when u do find a good yuri series it's either some obscure yuri series that nobody's ever heard of that came out in the 90s/00s or the series got canceled due to poor sales/the publishing company just didn't give a fuck about it in the 1st place. Which is y it ALWAYS grinds my gears when I c ppl b like "would u himejoshis stop bitching because your yuri series aren't as popular as the BL/yaoi genre, y don't u just make your own yuri series/write your own yuri fanfics 🙄" like BRUH WHAT DO U THINK I'M TRYING TO DO?!?!? Sorry I actually have standards for the media I consume & not consume the same uke & seme toxic yaoi skinny twink series for the 500 millionth time in a row

I could cry over how much i understand you. (you are right and you should say that abt bl) this world is too cruel. Real Himejoshis like us need to stick together 🤝 i can send you all 5 series i can think of thats actually good if youd like.

tyvm for indulging my manic frusturations. This is certainly gonna be a long post saurrrr ill have to put it under a read more lmao. You asked for it so the gloves are completely off with this one and i thought abt it again and i actually dont care if anyone thinks im wrong.

I've come to the sad realization yuri can only REALLY be categorized like the following:

#1: yuri that is boring

unfortunately the usual case with 90% of yuri especially with new series

usually plays upon overused tropes making everything abt it lack any uniqueness to it

it is such an epidemic its forced himejoshis to become resigned to accepting these things into their hearts and even pretending its the shit when really its just shit 😭

its hard to give examples bc this makes up almost all yuri i can think of

#2: Non-Existent yuri

A series with really gay girls but they dont ever explicitly say theyre in love.

ex. dungeon meshi

Most himejoshis will on in the hill of saying they love subtext but we all know and especially themselves know that isnt true

#3: Yuri that is unserious as fuck

Theres a lot of drama yuri out there but it is always so fucking unserious it just ends up being funny as fuck instead

ex. Onii-Sama E and my girlfriend isnt here today

quite often this type is also associated with erotic media. But theyre so goddamn unserious it dosent matter how sexy either of them are, it immediately makes them so unsexy the minute they start talking.

i would only say ive succumbed to believe i love this genre bc i love to laugh at it sm

#4: Yuri where one or sometimes BOTH of them are dead 💀

i literally dont care i hate the "bury your gays" trope so much. it just aggravates the shit out of me bc what is even the point anymore then

great example of this is Alien stage

personally i feel like the only yuri that can exist like this and is actually genuinely good is obviously PMMM (i will fight everyone on the planet over this IDC)

#5: side character yuri

sort of a popular trend. kind of goes hand in hand with non-existent yuri but personally i think they count as different entities sometimes

extremely minor plot points or concurrent small interactions between side characters thats kind of gay as shit

theyre either EXTREMELY GAY or just a little gay theres no inbetween (either way, people will lie one way or another to say its really good)

despite the fact this yuri is quite ephemeral or absolutely nothing some ppl will still call this media wholly yuri for whatever maniacal reason

#6: YURI THATS TOO FUCKING SHORT

Unfortunately the best type of yuri also happens to be too goddamn short (usually limited to oneshots, anthologies, manga series no more than 25 chapters)

All my favorite yuri happens to be like this and i always scream at god for making life like this

If i hate anything in this world its liars, so i probably hate other himejoshis very much bc i keep constantly reading suggestions people hype up on the internet and ultimately being disappointed every single time because its never as good or unique as anyone says.

Its easy to say i hate them but its probably pity. I pity my fellow man that i consistently watch them fall for yuri underneath a wooden box held up with a stick and rope.

With all this being realized; its hard to ignore the truth of it all when trying to get into yuri regardless of it. So ive finally decided to stop listening to literally anyone anymore and ive ultimately stopped seeking it out bc im tired lmao

[oloreandil]

i've been having random thoughts about death note happening in more recent years, with social media as a widespread method of communication and identification

doxxing / finding names and pictures online is so easy right now, Light getting the power of the eyes would only really hinge on finding out L's name. the few criminals whose identity can't easily be found online would matter to him even less compared to the loss of half your years

i still think Misa would take them for the convenience and romantic appeal of immediate deathly powers (by the way. taking the eyes again steals half your life AGAIN. Light pointedly would not stop her, especially since people's internet presence would have wildly changed already)

rigidly pseudonymous identities outside of your trusted circle would become the norm in my opinion, with web extensions to hide your ID in all previous posts mentioning you, and counter extensions to show them again (popularised by pro-Kira blogs who want to engage in doxxing). i can very well see discourse around "what do you need to hide :/ I'm a publicly law abiding citizen which is why I don't care that my name is out there" as it is literally a "counter argument" in the conversation around privacy laws right now

there would be lots of forum threads on finding out how Kira kills in the same way we have massive discussions around fan theories, and the sheer amount of ideas and brainpower usually leads somewhere, but it's also gonna lead to burying less popular theories regardless of how correct they could be. L and the Task force (and then, Mello and the SPK) would have to sort through thousands of reposts of the same popular arguments

callout culture would be absolutely horrible, too. people would 100% make up fake crimes so Kira would punish someone they don't like, even though i don't think Light would take the Minoru approach of asking people for information. he doesn't trust anyone else to do it properly, but can't get proper sources at first and i'm sure innocent people would get caught in his net. i wonder how that'd reflect on Kira, if people would start to question his god-like powers because of poor media literacy or if people would turn against those who tricked Kira and "tarnished god's hands" or something

those would all be fantastic tools for L, though. fake articles published by real news sources using his influence, but with various kinds of ID available on each criminal so he can pick up which are actually relevant. a variant of his "only in Tokyo" news report but on social media, to see where Kira might have an account and follow that trail. fake profiles of real people to see if Kira would kill them instead of the Lind L Tailor murder on TV. i don't think he'd show his face nearly as quick as he did in the manga, if at all, and he'd definitely never go to uni with Light in case someone gets a picture (or he'd have to do massive damage control to remove every instance of his face posted online, with added pressure after the appearance of the second Kira). i think he'd probably only show his face to the task force or Light when his suspicions are so strong he kidnaps Light and Misa

social media would be banned from the Task Force HQ but it'd be way harder to erase their social presence, especially Aizawa (his wife posts about their family life) and Matsuda (previously very active). that would be one more reason to make them resign from the NPA sooner. reposts of old articles start to appear when people notice that a large part of the Task Force has been wiped from police records - the list of police Kira investigators could have leaked, putting further pressure on them to quit as the pro-Kira crowd massively doxxes them

i'll probably add more to this at some point and i'm really curious if other people wanna share their ideas !