#they never get context for why he needed it

[scopophobia-polaris]

So, to add on to Navi's post, because her whole read for the original was getting screenshots from the game to debunk what was said, of course....we are now here. I want to tell you that no one here disagreed with your conclusion about Ganondorf being a victim. What we here disagreed with was the method you used to get there. Simplifying Ganondorf down to solely good or solely evil is something this Fandom does all the time with little to no nuance. And even though you have written an eloquent essay, Published even! You twisted or outright made up parts of the game to get to your conclusion. In essay writing, that's called a logical fallacy, and the whole essay either twists what happens in the game or outright gets it wrong.

Now people are probably gonna wonder why I'm treating this like a big deal or why I'm speaking so blunt, because this is by all means very stupid fandom drama.

But I think when you're a college prof and you get an essay published and it's online for people to read everywhere without you, one, not giving the context behind Ganondorf's creation and the coding of his appearance and motivations, two the complexities of a corporate conglomerate in a notoriously socially conservative country taking aesthetics from countries who were historically colonized. And Three, The way that video games are a collaborative effort with usually no singular vision, this is very true at nintendo despite what people may think, and at any moment changes can be made for any reason by team leads or executives that would hinder or even hurt a story. It detrimental to the audience reading it that you do not provide them more of a couple of screenshots

Basically, many things go into a story and now I'm taking this more from a DOYLIST view right here talking about Nintendo. But I'm doing this because you keep trying to say..... well fuck man do I need to pull up more examples? Navi got them all, the whole essay is you trying HEAVILY to imply that Nintendo MEANT to do all of this, as in intentional in the story, idk I feel crazy, words have meaning, specific wording has implication, oh and this dosent even get into how localization can change things 😃😀 wording has meaning and sometimes translators don't have cultural contexxxtttttttt and to not even mention about Nintendo's history or even the short hand that comes from Ganondorf's design and the historical Orientalism behind it feels like a disservice to the paper, but much more qualified people then I have discussed the way Ganondorf is written and probably would love to discuss or link to previous writing again if asked.

And this is a cold take but Nintendo isn’t the place you should be looking to for deep story telling, they will always be a corporate entity first and the bottom line is a general audience, this does not mean JUST KIDS this means to a generalized population. And this is extremely cynical but a lot of people cant even handle the complexity of a female character who is mean, like Midna, do you really think people would handle a Ganondorf like how he is in Tp being portrayed in any form of film language as good????? This game dropped 5 years after 9/11, Nintendo was never gonna lose out in money like that.

And Dude people have given so much shit to HUGE fanartists and comic authors about their work portraying Ganondorf in a sympathetic light, you would of thunk more people would of picked up on Ganondorf's story being written as tragedy if there was something in the game that actually DID that. Maybe they would of written a blog post about how Midna saw Link kill Ganondorf and was ashamed of that or Ganondorf TOTALLY said the history of light and shadow will be written in blood thing before the final battle, you think people would of talked about huh why did Ganondorf say that there or something and maybe went 🤔 instead of it being argued that Tp Ganondorf had the weakest writing of the series until TotK threw a pile of flaming shit at my door with a picture of Ganondorf on it.

Navi also goes in depth on how Hyrule has not exactly stagnated like what was claimed in History of Light and Shadow by using the Goron merchants and Yeto as examples.

Rynling has stated that the cause of the stagnation and decline is due to an ineffectual leader that has "Not allowed its people to be revitalized by change and diversity."

Now I am familiar with the flaws of an undetermined national unity, I am very familiar with the subject, but I’m not going to speak like an authority. Id rather let someone much more qualified make that post and I link back to it, because i know its coming. But Navi said in her post that the idea of what could of happened at Arbiter's Grounds can completely blow over someone's head if they didn't play OoT first, and I think more or less this is accurate, certain things are lost in Wind Waker even with the recaps, but I wanna join in on this in my own way...

Rynling....you may say Hyrule has been on a decline during Tp......you may even think OoT had a more stable Hyrule or some shit.....i THINK YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE PLOT OF OCARINA OF TIME BAYBEEEEEEE

THE SUPPLEMENTAL MATERIAL THAT I CAN PULL UP TO PROVE MY SHIT ABOUT OOT HYRULE BEING DOG SHIT IN COMPARISON TO TP

Like if you're seriously gonna link me and Navi to your essay then I am about to go full BTW it's a Sativa and eat that bitch after midnight cuZ we YELLIN ABOUT OCARINA OF TIME ON THIS POST FOR EVERYONE🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

All of Ocarina of Time's narrative is haunted by the civil war, the whole reason why Link is being raised in the woods is cuz of the civil war, the Sheikah are implied to have died out during the same conflict, and well its said that Hyrule was unified during it

Civil War yet the translators use unified the country like it WASNT under a sole ruler before? Hello? I need to go back through the Japanese script for the game again to see if i missed something of the game and freak it harder. And do realize the Deku sprout in this screenshot says fierce war but every where else, including the Zelda wiki (not fandom) its CIVIL War.

The Gate to Death mountain and Simultaniously the fence at Zora's river gives us and idea that peace was....tenuous at best downright hostile at worse given relations with the Gerudo

so today we gonna do some fun comparing and contrasting the Gorons and how they are treated in OoT to TP

and we gonna start with his racist ass BHJBHDBHKCJW

I mean, damn remmeber how mad Darunia is at Link for being the supposed royal family messenger? Link Unlocking the door to Darunia's room with Zelda's lullaby, I think it's a little funny that Darunia is hung up , you know, like he knows this is some disrespectful shit

Hey wannna hear some shit? The gates at the edge of death mountain aren't guarded by Gorons and were not built by them you can tell, the only way to visit the mountain is to get permission from the King to go up and not from the people that actually live there

God and like, there is something about the way Darunia locks himself in his room, like he does it to keep the ruby safe from all the other Gorons being so hungry that he's frightened they're gonna eat it, he doesn't know what to do on how to act about the Dodongos that Ganondorf summon on him for not giving over that rock. It qlmost sounds like when Ganondorf came in and Threatened Darunia, and that he (Darunia) sent a message to the royal family asking for help, why else would he be expecting someone to come meet with him?

"If I'm not mistaken, you came out here to eat the red stone too! Well, too bad! It's not here! What? That's not why you're here? You're looking for a "Spiritual Stone?" You must mean that delicious-looking red stone that was once displayed above the city! I was so hungry that I thought it would be OK to just give it one tiny, little lick...so I snuck up there. But it was already gone! I think Big Brother took it away. He always says that everyone is after that red stone! Big Brother has shut himself up in his room saying, "I will wait in here for the Royal Family's messenger!" this is a quote from the Goron that you can find on the middle of the rope bridge thing in Goron city.

Yeah so he sent a letter or something and no one answered yeesh.

contrast this all with TP where OH LOOKS WHO'S GUARDING DEATH MOUNTAIN

so in TP spoilers, this happens

Kakariko is more connected then ever! Renado here is wondering what the hell is going on with their FRIENDS. And yeah the Goron elder Gor Coron is trying to keep the last few people from kakariko left safe, and other Gorons, i mean, theyre keeping a piece of the fused shadow in there. also the way that entry into the temple goes in this game is cute, Darunia was freaking it cuz everyone is starving, but here Link wrestles his way up a mountain to ask the Gron elder whats happening since he was asked to come here by Renado, Gor Coron goes DAMN

unless......?

IDK ITS LIKE? ITS SILLY? Idk Hyrule isnt the best place but why try and act like this doesnt happen during TP?

so where am i getting at with this? the hell was going on back during OoT? If things are so odd and weirdly tense with the gates gaurds and non responses

"As time passed, the Triforce became a legend, and the different people of Hyrule forgot the laws and wisdom that the goddesses had left behind. Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo. It seemed every race of Hyrule was at the other's throat. Only the secluded Kokiri, sheltered by their magical forest and the Great Deku Tree, were spared the destruction of Hyrule's civil wars.

After 50 years of ceaseless combat, there arose a Hylian King of great wisdom, courage and power. Through his brilliant military campaigns and wise diplomacy, he was able to bring the varied people of Hyrule into a tenuous harmony. Treaties of peace were signed, and prosperity once again seemed to bloom in Hyrule. But no sooner had people declared peace in Hyrule than trouble once again stalked the land."

Tenuous Harmony, could you imagine if they dropped a line like this in Creating a champion? The tumblr side of the fandom would go fucking nuts with that info like OHHHHH SHIT WAS GOING ONNNNNN

This was ALL on the offical Nintendo Zelda website back when oot was the big game out, we have this cuz someone saved it to the wayback, THIS SCREENSHOT WAS FROM DECEMBER 14TH 2001, ABOUT A FULL YEAR AND A DAY UNTIL WIND WAKER WAS RELEASED IN JAPAN. THAT'S INSANE RIGHT???? ‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

And then it all probably got deleted once wind waker became the new thing!!! Or when they wanted to modernize and deleted it!!! THAT SUCKS RIGHT????

And what's worse is that it introduces some new info and also clarifies something. Hey you know when I made that post like damn Darunia racist as hell

"Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo."

NO WHERE IN THE GAME THE LEGEND OF ZELDA OCARINA OF TIME IT SAYS THIS, IT DOES NOT STATE THERE WAS CONFLICT BETWEEN THE GORONS AND GERUDO.....LIKE DIN GET YA KIDS.....IM LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR SOMETHING I MUST OF MISSED.

But Like oh hey a fucking explanation to why he just fucking says that, I figure it was cuz of Ganondorf trying to almond mom all of them or that he kept talking to the King and well.....Navi already showed the GENERAL reaction to the Gerudo in castle town.

it went from oh hes just racist to dARUNIA AND GANONDORF HAVE HISTORY????

But the interesting one is why did thy Zora "marched on the Hylians."

Like sitting here like, I know a comic made in Germany shouldn't be a be all end all in shit I knew it never was and it would like. If you put this in warrior cats canonicoty categorization would be considered lower down supplementary material dubious canon, but their are things in the comic AND the Himekawa manga that behinds some behind the scenes actions given that LINK'S MOM HAS A MOSTLY CONSISTENT DESIGN WHAT THE HELLLLLLLL. And I always thought the Goron Zora war thing was stupid but Nintendo then had that out on their website, what the hell was going ON.

Because idk i didnt think much of Zora De Bon XVI and the Hyrulien King's relationship but

Now a days the Zelda website is much different and does not have lore pages like this anymore, it's more like a summary of the timeline. But yeah actually Nintendo approved shit, Hylian/Zora war.

Hyrule is progressing, its just going slowly, Hyrule is not AS stifled by its monarchy or a lack of integration during TP because Hyrule IS integrating, is people's are intermingling like is hasn't before during this game.

And this isn't even to get started on the E3 demo of Twilight princess that the trip that Link is supposed to take at the beginning of the game was to be the representative of Ordon at the "Hyrule summit

and Hyrule is described in a VERY specific way

Kingdom of Hyrule and neighboring realms? like theyre all not under the crown? so like???? FUN, that didn't end up making it in the game. the dailouge that is, But the remints is still there in the way the game is made up, like how OoT is built off is civil war bones

actually funny, Navi just got me screenshots of the way the dialouge was changed here

Like stuff clearly changed during the demo and finished game, I should of been touching more on the intricacies of how like shit was just change for no reason sometimes but uh....

But maybe @rawliverandgoronspice would want to one day like about games industry stuff if you ever want to 😭 I know you're super passionate on this and I wish I like even off hand mentioned something about how like TP is also effected by how games are made but I didn't and I'm a fool but games are complicated as hell and that post you made talking a bit about it was fun ya know 👉👈 and the Beta of Tp changes a LOT of stuff, one Rusl really is like a brother to link in the way he messes with him, it actually makes some weird Nintendo licensed shit saying hes like a big brother to Link made WAYYYYY more since with the Beta in mind, but....that also mean they tried to keep the big bro vibes....but then put the dad ones in there too like.....uh...did..someone not change his summary anywhere?

that was my big thing i wanted to talk about, navi's already touched on everything else i just think the parallels here between the Goron quest between OoT and TP changes in such a nice way.

And like this doesn't get into other shit about TP, like if we wanna deep dive into shit ya don't gotta do it by twisting the story, like I was going and talking to @blackautmedia to ask with some help when it came to like.......god idk what i even said anymore i was going a mile a minute. He wants to write his own thing on Twilight princess so im not gonna step on his toes but he has recommended Arabs and Muslims in the Media: Race and Representation after 9/11 by Evelyn Alsultany, the link I provided here is too her website and her page on the book this link here is from her own site that has a pdf of a part American Quarterly with a paper by the same name.

Anyways i wanna reflex for a moment cuz ive been up for hours finishing this because my brain wont stop unless i do. But the thing that by all means started this, was not your reblog linking me and Navi to your essay, or that there is 2 versions i found out where the paper published one had a lot more context to why you wrote your tumblr post the way you did, Navi helped me get the parts that were cut, please realize removing these does not remove the sentiment from the essay, its baked in.

fanfic, its a popular Fan interpretation that there was fighting between the Gerudo and Hylians after Ganondorf was caught trying to take the triforce, but this is not stated to of happened in the lore itself or even has evidence to back it up other then the Implications of Arbiter's grounds theory

UGHHHH AND THIS AGAIN "Twilight Princess Delivers a subtle yet poignant protest against neoliberal discourses of empire reflected in the rhetoric of heroism inform the geopolitical movements of Japan throught the twentieth century"

WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT......

i dont mean this in a stupid ass way, im saying where the hell was about the protest thing, wait i really shouldt take from the published one cuz you actually dumbed down the line for tumblr

anyways again, where, Navi made it clear enough with her own post that, no, the way that Ganondorf is animated has no sympathy for him until the light is literally leaving him. Hell Twilight princess inst very kind to the gerudo either given that the only thing said about them is that they were thieves and nothing more. Like somehow OoT is more empathetic to the Gerudo, it doesn't just call them thieves, it aint great its not even good its just a bad portrayal of a people, and yet somehow OoT is willing to show the Gerudo in a neutral light at points then TP ever did.

but the reason i decided to just throw down a post is cuz i was pissed that you went after Ezlo for reblogging ME and NAVI's posts and purposefully misunderstood their fuckin wind waker post about ZELDA YOUTUBERS

dude you had them getting genuinely harassed by people with 0 reading comprehension that thinks a snarky reply to a tumblr post means its 100% correct. Webbed. Site.

anyways, I hope people don't take this as a right or wrong way to interpret a piece of work, as stated before, I read your essay, navi read your essay, you changed parts of Twilight Princess to get to the conclusion of you paper...And im gonna be real but it's kinda crazy that you're using post colonial melancholia for this when it's got some.....well something like idk i need someone to do a full ass review because there are point where i gently raise an eyebrow im gonna be real. but also like

like how do you read his book and then miss out on this, one of your whole big aruments is that hyrule is stagnate and not multi cultural and i had to grab screenshots and Navi had to get shit from the game.

like damn, do yall ever uh feel a strange sadness when dusk falls? i do. Idk this is one of the first and last times Nintendo ever delt with Ganondorf with some form a sympathy for him, cuz we got the dragon explosion in totk its like oh he's turbo evil now and he exploded you exploded him and yet the Gerudo probably still gotta pay for his shit from a billion years ago anyways idk idk idk pot shots at totk again.

I know you dug around a little for that post, and I understand from the numerous people that dmed me about that, you probably went on making an essay on their post so you could sound smart again.

And to be clear, I was told to drop some shit i was about to say about you because no one wants to start fandom drama, neither do I truly and any jab on the post itself would just be rude. people change and some people only learn to shut the hell up, so we'll keep it at that. I just hope you really don't truly recognize some of these people you started shit with.

So yeah tldr, uh.....idk, im going in for an autism screening in a month

also me watching the ending to windwaker cuz i wanted to say something about stong endings TP fans im sorry But Wind waker's ending hits no matter what best sequal to OoT thats isnt Majora's mask

The History of Light and Shadow

At the end of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf delivers one of his most memorable lines, “The history of light and shadow will be written in blood.” He is not wrong. As the player has witnessed over the course of Link’s adventure, Hyrule is haunted by ruins and ghost towns, a mere shadow of what it once was. The landscape is filled with numerous sites of past violence and empty spaces visibly marked by decay and wasted potential.

When Zelda tells Link and Midna that “these dark times are the result of our deeds,” she is referring to specific historical acts of imperialistic aggression. Hyrule established hegemony over its outlying territories by crushing the rebellions against its advances, but the kingdom has suffered from cultural stagnation as a result. Without the dynamic diversity symbolized by Ganondorf, Hyrule finds itself in economic and political decline, isolated from any contact with the world beyond its shrinking borders.

As a representative of a marginalized group of people who have been attacked and driven from their homes, Ganondorf is a tangible manifestation of the horrors of imperialism. He must be defeated, but doing so does not address the underlying problems that have resulted in Hyrule’s decline. I therefore want to argue that Twilight Princess uses Ganondorf to deliver a subtle yet poignant protest against the discourses of empire reflected by the dualistic “light and shadow” rhetoric of heroism that has resulted in tragedy and regret.

Keep reading

[parfaitblogs]

over the moon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a bout of insomnia prompts the usage of your arguably overworked baking equipment. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. cliché flour fight into kissing... sorry... no i'm not. use of pet names. make out sesh (obviously).  word count: 1.4k a/n: also known as spencer and reader take on the margotlia bucket list for margovember!!! happy birthday to my lover @pathologicalreid!!! who has very quickly become my other half on this silly little side of tumblr. a prophet told me there are snickerdoodle cookies and a smithsonian date with our names on it in our futures ♡

"Honey, please tell me the light on in the kitchen is you getting a glass of water."

Like a deer in headlights, you're frozen in your beelined pathway between the fridge and the countertop of Spencer's kitchen, the carton of eggs in your hands preventing any attempt of a lie to him.

"Uh..." Your eyes lock with his, and he's visibly deflating upon spotting the pantry's baking ingredients arranged in front of you. "I'm just getting water?"

"I didn't realise you put sticks of butter into your water," he counters, voice meticulously picking apart your lie in front of your face. "Does that taste good?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure," he nods his head, his feet carrying him over to you behind the counter. "What recipe have you chosen to victimise today?"

"Snickerdoodle cookies," you mumble, as his arms wrap around your waist, and his chin sits on your shoulder, eyes peering at your phone screen that had the cookie recipe open. 

"Any particular reason?" 

"I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," he nods, and a beat passes where you mumble a quiet apology to him, before he's pulling away from you and picking up your phone. "Where do we start?"

It wasn't the first time you had baked instead of sleeping, and it certainly wasn't the first time Spencer had woken up to the sound of your hand mixer combining sugar and butter, or the oven timer dinging to accompany the smell of freshly baked muffins. In fact, he had become accustomed to not getting through an entire fortnight without at least one tray of baked goods taking up counter space. 

It was the first time he had offered to help you, though. He either accompanied you and watched you bake, or sat at his desk to get paperwork done (he said he should use the extra time spent conscious wisely). 

"You don't have to help," you're shaking your head, but he's already going to the sink to wash his hands. 

"You only slept for two hours before waking up to do this. I'd like to get you back to bed sooner rather than later," he answers, patting his hands dry. "I won't sleep until you do, anyways."

"Okay," you relent, staring at him almost stunned, before you return to the recipe you had up on your phone. "Um... could you combine the sugar and butter?"

Baking with Spencer Reid seemed to make everything a lot easier. Ignoring the obvious (the help an extra set of hands provided), his eidetic memory meant you could throw a step his way, and he'd know exactly what he was doing. Having asked him to add the eggs to his sugar and butter mix, he was already separating the yolk from the whites before you needed to say a thing.

"Have you ever stuck your hand into flour?" you ask him, and he lifts his head, eyebrows frowning together. 

"No. Why would I do that?"

"To know what it feels like," you say, dryly, though there isn't any malice behind it. "Have you never wanted to know what it feels like?"

"You can use context clues to figure out what it would feel like," he replies. "Correct?" 

"Spencer, you're entirely missing the point," you shake your head, and though he lifts his head from his sugar-butter-and-egg mixture to question you, he doesn't even remotely expect a large fistful of flour to explode across his chest. 

Then, you're laughing, and he's still battling with the initial shock of your flour attack for a few more seconds to laugh with you. But, when he does, he's almost mocking with it, and your face falls when he's putting his own hand into the container labelled flour, lifting it, and dragging his hand over your stomach. 

"Oh my God!" you say through a laugh, looking down at the smear of flour on your t-shirt. "Spencer!"

"Reap what you can sow," he retorts. 

So, you do.

You aren't too sure when the flour fighting gets more intimate. Somewhere between your fingers running it through his hair, and his hands landing on your ass, as he tugs you into him.

You're heaving, though the smile on your face is perfect, and he's certain he might be falling in love with you all over again. Cheeks stained in flour and all. 

"Hello," you sing, lifting your chin up to smile at him.

"Hi, sweet girl," he replies, ducking his head down to brush his lips against yours, and you pull a face at the faint taste of flour on them. 

Your finger lifts up to brush his lower lip, face growing concentrated as you brush the powder off it. "You've got a little... something..." 

"Do I?" he asks, condescendingly, and you're firmly nodding your head. 

"Yep. This is why I bake alone, Spencer Reid," you tut. 

His eyebrows raise. "I don't know if I want to even try to prove you wrong."

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Duly noted. Anything you do recommend?"

You pause. "Kissing me might help in my journey of forgiving you for this mess."

If he's got any plan to defend himself, it crumbles beneath the words of your request, and his lips are stretching into a smile. 

"I'll do whatever I can."

His lips have a film on them from the brushed away flour, making them softer than they usually are, as he presses them against yours. Hands that were once resting almost teasingly on your ass lift to your hips, and your own drop to the countertop behind him as you lean into him.

As you usually feel in your slow moments like this with him, you feel your heart soar, your head tilting to the side as you accomodate his face being so close to your own. 

Arguably, his favourite thing about kissing you for longer than half a second, is the mewls and hums that leave your lips. Never too much to prompt anything more, but instead just enough to tell him just how much you enjoy kissing him. A feeling that is entirely mutual.

As soon as it starts, it's over. Which can't really be true, for you are panting when his head pulls away from yours,  and he's got that glassy look in his eyes that always makes your body warm. 

"We need to go shower," he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. 

You want to decline, just to stay standing right there in the kitchen with him, the urge to keep kissing him almost overwhelming. But his fingers have lifted to brush against a patch of flour on your neck, and you're surrendering at the feeling. 

"Okay."

Thus, forty-five minutes and one unreasonably long shower later, you were standing back in the kitchen, a bowl with cinnamon and sugar in front of you. Spencer's t-shirt hanging off your body — after you had expertly coerced him into letting you wear it — and a fork in your hands as you whisk the two toppings together. 

He's sitting on a stool on the other side of the bench, stirring the dough together after you had complained it was too thick. He argued it was supposed to be. 

Heading over to Spencer once the cinnamon and sugar was combined in a bowl, you mumble, "Okay. 'm tired," your head buried into the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, weaponising that flour probably exhausted some energy," he muses, letting go of the wooden spoon to wrap his arms around you. "We still need to bake these, though."

"Cookie dough is yummy too," you retort, hand reaching out to pinch a piece of the dough. 

"Cookie dough isn't safe for you to eat," he answers, catching your wrist before you can get ahold of any batter. Upon seeing your pout, combined with the tired look in your eyes, he relents, letting you pick up a small piece just to eat. "How about we put this in the fridge, and we bake them tomorrow?" 

"I like that plan."

"I thought you would."

Helping him with the clean up consisted of you putting the dough in the fridge and cinnamon sugar in the pantry, and him doing... everything else. He didn't seem to mind, though, and his hands found their place on your waist as he walked you back towards the bedroom. 

"C'mon, sleepy girl."

He laughs at your incoherent grumble towards the name calling, letting you drag him back into the bed adorned with wrinkled sheets. 

"Thanks for baking with me," you say, voice layered with your exhaustion as you're curling up next to him. 

"Thanks for attacking me with flour."

"And I'd do it again."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[midnight1nk]

EPISODE CONCEPT #4

What if... SMG3 had the courage to confess his feelings for the real SMG4?

For context, this is part two of my Episode Concept #3 [link], which many have asked for! @lovesick-simp, this is for you! (this is somehow longer than #3, holy shit.) Now, without further ado…

I promise.

He could never forget the feeling of tangible pixels leaving his arms. What once skin and clothes turned into mere 0’s and 1’s.

Those eyes, the ones he was willing to sink in its depths for hours, they cried. Of apology, of bittersweet farewell. He promised a lot of things, and one was to never let Four cry.

But it was never your Four.

At the time, a thousand thoughts passed through his mind. That this was simply a nightmare, or he had gotten too drunk. Or he ate a Wonder Flower by accident. Somehow, some way, this can’t be happening. He wanted to deny it all, but he knew. Why deny the truth when he fading away in your arms?

Goodbye, Three…

“SMG3?”

Three jumped at the mention of his name, turning to Tari who looked back at him with concern.

Tari: “Oh, sorry. Just wanted to know if you’re okay. You’ve been staring at Lil’ Spot for a while.”

He blinked at her, and then looked down at the gray-feathered duckling nestle in his cupped hands. Ah, yeah, he was.

SMG3: “I was just daydreaming, that’s all.” [*looks around, recalling where he was*] “It really is a nice place. It’s not far from the Showgrounds, right?” Tari, smiles: “Yep, I always like to come down here, it helps me clear my head. Plus, I get to hang around with the duckies!” SMG3: [*nods and with a finger, he soothes the duckling’s head*] “You were right before, I could use the fresh air.” “Eh, Tari, a little help here?”

Three looked across the way to see a couple of yellow ducklings climbing all over SMG4, who was standing by the edge of the lake. All over on his arms, his shoulders, under his blue cap. As Tari ran over to help, Four trying to not let any of them fall while giggling, tickled by their fluffy feathers.

Three began to smile, and perhaps he could let his heart feel that missing warmth.

Have courage.

But the cautious part of him didn't let him. He should've known better, he apologized to his heart.

Not yet.

Four and Tari came back with the tamed ducklings lined up in their arms.

SMG4: “If I spent a little more time with these little guys, they're gonna think I’m their mom.” SMG3, hums: “You always did have a thing for being the center of the universe.” SMG4: “Hey, it's not like I do it on purpose.”

And yet, you managed to become mine. But Three kept that thought to himself.

Tari: “It's getting late, and I told Meggy I was making dinner tonight. I should probably get them back to their mother.” SMG4, handing the ducklings from his arms to hers: “Yeah, we should head home, SMG3.”

Three said goodbye to Lil' Spot before handing the duckling to Tari, who promptly went to drop them off and returned. While Four was distracted, folding up the picnic blanket, Three leaned towards Tari while keeping an eye on Four.

SMG3, whispered: “Tari, could you please do a simulation check?”

Tari looked at him, her concern reflecting once again. He has asked that everyday. Any chance he was with her, it was the same. The first few times, she tried assuring him, telling him, “It's okay, SMG3. There's no need, you’re safe now.”

But it never seemed to calm his nerves. As much as she wanted to protest, she knew that it wasn't an unreasonable exaggeration. Whatever the simulation did to him must've been really horrible for him not to tell anyone what happened. To think he was back.

Tari nodded and programmed a command on the floating screen projecting by her arm. A window popped up saying, No detection of simulation.

Tari: “All clear.” SMG3, letting out a sigh of relief: “Thanks. I owe you one.” Tari, letting out a small smile: “No worries, we’re your friends after all. Though, I wouldn't mind having one of your cookies again once you’re healed.” SMG3: [*chuckle*] “That I can do.” SMG4, swinging the backpack over his shoulder: “Alright, ready to go?”

SMG3 nods. After saying goodbye to Tari, SMG4 pushed SMG3’s wheelchair on the path towards the Showgrounds.

It’s been over a month since Three was freed from the simulation. The Crew wasted no time bringing him to the hospital. The rest, well, it seemed like a blur. To Three at least. The doctors and nurses, what they said, he never caught it. He was lucky that his friends were there to remember for him. Three wasn’t exactly sure what to feel. Should he grieve? Should he be grateful that the Crew found him and his son?

What he did know was the promise that he kept.

The Crew was naturally relieved to see he was in good hands, but anyone could tell that they were exhausted from the stress of the search. So, while Three was going through recovery, they took turns watching over him. The rest, who didn't have the shift, took the chance to rest.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

One night, Tari and Saiko were walking down the quiet hospital hall, Saiko holding a gift bag and Tari a duffle bag with colorful patches all over it.

Tari: “Do you think SMG3 will like the card?” Saiko: “He’s a big softie on the inside, of course he will. Let's just hope we can pry SMG4 away from him.” Tari: “You can't exactly blame SMG4. I mean, don't you remember? He didn't sleep for days, or even eat. He was worried sick.” Saiko: “But he needs rest too, not just us. SMG3 is rescued, he should let us take care of it, if he wasn't so stubborn.” Tari: “Well, that nurse did say SMG3 would be better soon. Maybe we convince SMG4 this time.”

They reached to Three's room, but they found an unexpected sight when they opened the door:

Four fell asleep on the chair beside the bed, his head resting on Three’s lap like a pillow. A sleeping Three had a hand gently on Four’s hair with all the tenderness and quiet reassurance in the world. What was free, their hands were intertwined. It was certainly a rare sight, and they seemed so at peace with each other.

Tari and Saiko shared a glance, a gentle smile.

Tari: “Aw, that's so cute.” [*snaps a picture for the group chat*] Saiko: “C’mon, let’s them be.”

Saiko tiptoed into the room and left the gift bag on the nearby table. Peering at them one last time, she gently closes the door. They could always come back tomorrow.

There, what awaited in the gift bag, were reminders of home. A bomb from his cafe, a mini-plush of Eggdog, a record of jazz music. A homemade card, one side filled with heartwarming messages and the other a drawing of all the Crew with the Castle in the background, one of the best works Melony has ever done.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG4: “I bet I can drink a thousand cans of Monster Energy.” SMG3: “Nah uh! You’re lucky I can’t drink that stuff yet because I would’ve totally beaten you!” SMG4: “Oh, really? Well, I can’t wait to see you try.”

The two laughed as they reached the Castle. Eggdog greeted them at the door, happy to see his dads (And yes, I know what I said, shh) after Three's physical therapy session and jumped into his dad’s arms for a quick hug. Beeg4 slowly followed his brother, only letting out a pufferfish noise as a small “hello”. He isn’t usually the affectionate type. Four went to get Three’s customized cane leaned against the wall, and helped Three get to his feet. (The cane was a gift from the Crew but Bob was the one who added neat little secrets for Three to use. Though, Bob wants it to be off the record that it isn’t because he’s gone soft or anything.)

Ever since Four proposed the idea for Three to stay at the Castle, this has become second nature for them. They switched out the wheelchair with the cane at home so Three would be more comfortable walking around. Plus, he would usually hold Four’s arm to lean on. After his physical therapy appointments, Four would cook up dinner for the whole family. Or see if there’s any leftovers or takeout on special occasions. Three recently got the approval to eat solid food again, and Three couldn't be more glad. He was honestly getting sick of the same old soups day after day. Well, even if they tasted good. And they all sit at their usual seats at the table, not that they assigned seats or anything. It felt natural.

And today was pizza night.

SMG3: “Y’know…” SMG4, setting the pizza down: “No.” SMG3: “Oh, c’mon. You haven’t even tried it, you big baby.” SMG4: “And I already know that your ‘Ultimate Pizza’ is a disgrace to culinary art. To your tastebuds. Who the hell puts baked beans on pizza?” SMG3: “Well, Eggdog likes it.” Eggdog, helping set the plates: [*happy bark*] SMG4: “Oh, so now you’re bringing the kids into this? C’mon, Beeg, help me out here.” [Beeg doesn’t respond] [*acts dramatically, like someone stabbed him in the heart*] “I’ve been betrayed. Pleh.” SMG3, shakes head amusingly: “Shut up and eat, idiot.” SMG4: “Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me.” [*taunting*] “Forever.” SMG3: “Oh no, whatever should I… do.”

He… said this before, hasn’t he?

SMG4, mouth full of pizza: “Uh, SMG3, you’re good?” SMG3: “Yeah yeah, I’m fine.” [*eats his slice somberly, looking away*]

Four kept his gaze on Three. He wanted Three to tell him what was in his mind. He wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Comfort him. They have been there for each other at the worst of times. At each other’s worst.

There were two things they shared with absolute certainty: (1) they’re both stubborn, and (2) they would put up a brave face for the people around them.

Four did, when he discovered Three and Eggdog missing from the cafe. He would put on a determined smile, telling the rest of the Crew that they would rescue Three. But he supposed they could see right through him. That he was crumbling. Three was the one who saved him when he went insane and was possessed by the demonic keyboard. How could he not be frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t do the same?

Biting into his pepperoni slice, Four thought to himself, if only there was a way to take away all the pain Three was feeling right now. If only Three would let go of the front he has and let him show his pain in front of Four. To let Four be his safe space.

There isn’t much he can do, other than to let Three come to him on his own terms. When he is ready.

After finishing up dinner and washing the dishes, they all went to Four’s room. Eggdog and Begg decided to play Jenga, Three sat on the bed scrolling through his phone, and Four went back to editing videos since there was a lot of catching up to do. The record player was playing jazz music, the LP cover was signed “To SMG3”. Three bobbed his head while Four hummed the notes, admittedly it was a great disc that they could both enjoy. After a while, Three reminded Four to take a break from the screen, to which Four immediately complied and sat next to Three.

SMG4: “How’s your legs?”

SMG3: “Tired. But not as bad as last time. Could you pass the pills?”

SMG4, grabbing the bottle and handing it to Three: “Well, you are getting better in today's therapy session. Just wait a bit more.”

When SMG3 grabbed his medication, they briefly touched. It normally wouldn’t mean anything, but there was a tingle. Of curiosity, of warmth. The two lightly blushed, which they quickly brushed it off. They sat in silence as Three swallowed the pills.

SMG3: [*held his jaw by the hand*] “Do you know what I miss the most?” [*looks at Four, who nods as a sign for him to go on*] “Dancing.”

Three didn’t lie, it was one of the things he loved to do. That, and one other reason...

After some thought, Four stood up from the bed. Three didn’t even notice until Four stood before him. Four cleared his throat, a tint of pink on his cheeks, and held out his hand.

SMG4: “Wanna dance?” SMG3: [*puzzled, looking at the hand to Four and back*] “SMG4, I think we should get you some glasses.” SMG4: [*amusingly rolling his eyes*] “’It doesn’t have to be perfect.’ Isn’t that what you always told me?” SMG3: [*starstruck at the remembrance of this memory, lightly chuckled*] “And you dare to use my own words against me.”

Four helped Three up to his feet, his arms being his only support instead of the cane or wheelchair. At first, it was naturally awkward, being that Three is still recovering. Their dancing, if you would even call it that, was more of them shuffling their feet around the floor. They didn’t care.

Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars

Slowly, they melted in each other’s embrace. Oh, how easily it was to be lost in the other’s eyes, pools of ruby and sapphire. Secretly, they wished they could be like this forever.

Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars

In the back of Three’s mind, alarm bells were ringing loudly. It isn’t real. He just wants to be friends. Somehow, Three ignored it all the moment Four gave him a smile.

In other words, hold my hand In other words, darling, kiss me

What Three didn’t know, Four was lost in his own mind. The romanticist that he is, he’s freaking out in the inside like a high school girl. It felt like a scene in the romcom movies he watches. But it was real. Three taught him how to give second chances. Perhaps there was a chance now.

Fill my heart with song Let me sing forevermore

Three ran his fingers on Four’s sleeve. It’s real. He’s real.

You are all I long for All I worship and adore

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

In other words, please be true

His hope.

In other words, I love you

As the song ends, the two came to a stop, but they didn’t part. Once again, they were lost in each other’s world.

SMG3: “…We’ve stopped.”

SMG4: “We did? Then, why is a room still spinning?”

Being so close to the other man, the tension was high. Have courage.

Even then, it wasn’t enough. He’s not your Four. Three cleared his throat, looking away before any temptation got hold of him.

SMG3: “I’m… pretty tired, SMG4.” SMG4: “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” [*reaching to hand Three his cane, hiding his disappointment*] SMG3: “Thanks anyway.” [*walks out the door, preparing to go to bed*]

SMG4 stayed where he stood, his heart skipped a beat. It felt like a dream. He danced with his… Well, ‘friend’ was never the right word for him to label Three. Partner? Maybe.

Crush. Yeah… that sounds about right. Ever since Four was saved by Three, he never looked at their relationship the same way. “Just friends” was the stability for the longest time. The “safe” term. And yet, it was selfish to wish for something more. So much so that Four had dreams of a domestic life with Three. Holding hands, to lean to his touch. To…

Four shook his head. Three didn’t seem ready, or even interested. It was just part of his imagination and nothing more.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

The concrete halls were dark, cold by the touch. All was silent except for the dripping coming from an overhead pipe leak. Light shined through, daring the shadows to confrontation.

They didn’t think they’d be back, but here they were.

Mario, Meggy, and Saiko walked down the abandoned building, remembering their way to a specific room.

Meggy: “We’re getting close, guys. Keep your eyes peeled.” Saiko: “I seriously don’t see the point of us coming back here. Whoever did this is long gone.” Meggy: “Tari was telling me how SMG3 was, and… Look, whoever did this really messed him up. But they must’ve had some big plan for them to involve SMG3 in something. We gotta figure out what it was.” Saiko: “If you think it’s gonna help, fine. Like I said, I’m only here as backup.”

Finding the right door, they entered what was once the simulation room. The group split up and searched for any clues.

Saiko: “Looks like they didn’t come back here.” [*examines the monitor and finds a file of plans in creating the simulation*] Meggy: [*picks up the simulation machinery*] “It’s completely busted. Find anything, Red?” Mario: “No.” [*trips over a hidden box, spilling its contents*] “Ow, my ass.” Meggy: “Are you alright?” Mario: [*rubbing his head*] “Yeah.” [*looks at what he tripped over*] “Hey, I found SMG3’s clothes!” Saiko: “Clothes?”

Indeed, there was a pair of black overalls, a dark blue long-sleeve, and a familiar cap. Meggy picked up the cap, spinning it in her hands. Seeing the “M” emblem, she recognized it immediately. SMG3 wore this getup before the redesigns, and she knew why the “M” was attached.

Meggy: “The Youtube remote. They were trying to make SMG3 into a villain again.”

Mario and Saiko exchanged a glance, seeing the situation at hand. To force Three into a villain again…

Saiko: “You guys get out of here.” Mario and Meggy: “What?” Saiko: “The simulation machinery may be destroyed but it doesn’t mean another one can’t be built.” [*presents the file to them*] “That person’s going to come back and get their things, maybe continue with their plan. They already hurt one of us, it can’t happen again. You guys get out of here, I’ll take care of it.”

Mario and Saiko looked at each other before giving a nod. Saiko was right, the culprit always comes back at the scene of the crime after all. The two left, leaving Saiko alone in the room. She picked up a lighter and lit the file blueprints, watching these plans of cruelty burn to a crisp. She was lucky to buy one of Three’s bombs just for a moment like this. She lit up and ran out, letting the explosive destroy it all. The clothes, the plans. The building itself. Every single bit to a crisp.

No one messes with the Crew. No one.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

“Three?”

SMG3 opens his eyes, widening as he recognizes his surroundings. The white void.

SMG3: [*heavy breathing*] “No, no, no.”

He turned his heel, ready to run, when he was stunned to see…

SMG3: “…SMG4?” SMG4: “God, you really are pathetic.”

Three is left stunned.

SMG4: “I mean, did you really think I had feelings for you? I’m only taking care of you because I feel bad.” [*walks over to Three*] SMG3: “I thought—” SMG4: “Oh, you thought? Please, get a grip on what’s real here.” [*harshly grabbed onto Three’s arm*] Villains don’t get happy endings.” SMG3: “Four, you’re hurting me. Stop it. Just stop!”

Suddenly, Four went limp, starting to fall over.

SMG3: “Four!” [*catching him*]

Three turns Four over to see his face half of it was pixelated, fading away.

SMG4?: “You… couldn’t keep your promise.” SMG3: “No… I… I’m trying. I really am.” Digital SMG4: “I got a chance to live, to experience love of all things.” [*his voice quickly distorting*] “And you ruined it all.” SMG3: “No, it’s not true. It’s not!” Digital Four: “Why, Three? Why did you have to be so cruel?”

In that moment, Four faded away, its code in the wind.

SMG3: “No, no no!”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG3: ”NO!”

Three jolted up from the bed. A hand clutching at his shirt, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Four, who slept right next to his partner, also woke up.

SMG4: “SMG3. Three. It’s okay, that dream isn’t real. It’s not real.” [*his hands gently cradled Three’s face*] “Easy, easy, easy.”

Three finally came to his senses, grounded by Four’s reassurance. His heavy breathing settled until his panic was no more.

SMG4: [*his thumb caresses the other’s cheek*] “See? It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

From the calmness and comfort of his hands, Three leaned into his touch. What he dreamed of, that wasn’t his Four. They stayed like this, the air becoming heavy. Until Three reached to grab Four’s hand from his cheek, but he didn’t shoo the other man away.

SMG4: “Three…” SMG3: “I can’t. Sorry…”

SMG4 sighed, once again unable to reach him. But there still had to be a way to help Three.

SMG4: “Hey, do you think you can sleep again?” SMG3: [*shakes his head*] “No.” SMG4: [*gets up from bed and grabs Three’s shoes*] “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Three had no idea where Four was taking him, but here they were: walking through the woods still in their pajamas, in hoodies, and shoes. They weren’t in a rush but Four was seemingly eager to show him this mystery. He looked at Four without the other noticing.

Me, the Crew, everything, it's an exact copy of the real thing.

The Four in the digital world was a mere copy. But even a copy could never show him what he was about to see:

Beyond the woods, there was a field of white flowers. Open to the beautiful stars above. The two sat down and looked at the view.

Three looks at him, hanging on to every word.

SMG4: “Whenever I get a nightmare, I always come here. I just happened to stumble upon this place by accident. But it somehow clears my head. Especially after… the ‘perfect’ incident.” [*small chuckle*] “I guess there are some things we can't get over.”

SMG4: “I care a lot about you, SMG3. More than you could ever realize. But it hurts to see when you’re trying to keep it all together. I know that feeling all too well. I can’t force you to tell me what happened in the simulation, but know that whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.”

Their hands got closer together. Their pinkies touched, they noticed but didn’t show.

SMG3: “I don’t know if you should. All the people I care about don’t stay for long. I’m unlikable, SMG4. I’m a villain and always will be.” SMG4: [*shakes head*] “You’ve changed. Besides, I like you. All of you.” [*their pinkies intertwined*] SMG3: “Four…” SMG4: “No, I’m not going to change my mind. I won’t leave you. Whatever you wish me to be, I will be it. A friend, a partner. Someone you can talk to. Anything.”

The air felt heavy once again, and everything became a blur. The silent wind passed through their hair. Have courage.

SMG3: [*gulping*] “…Then, let me ask: are you real?”

A free hand from Four held the other’s face.

SMG4: [*briefly looking at Three’s lips*] “As real as you want me to be.”

Whatever stopped him several times before, Four cut those ties loose. He leaned forward, his eyes slowly closing. He was patient and ready to see if Three would reject him. But Three didn’t and let Four close the gap.

A soft kiss, it was brief. It was tender. It was real.

Three kissed back, letting the other know he reciprocated. They parted for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.

SMG3: “Then, be true for me.”

They went for a second kiss, this time with passion and longing. This. This cleared every doubt they had before. Their insecurities, whatever held them down. Three wrapped his arms around Four’s neck while other did the same, around Three’s back. If this was a dream, screw it, let them dream. This time, nothing was going to take it away from them.

A single tear rolled down Three's cheek. It's been a while, hasn't it?

SMG3, talking in between kisses: “I love you, Four. I always have.” SMG4, doing the same: “I love you too, Three. I wanted you for so long.” SMG3, parting from kiss: [*laugh*] “Oh? Did you now?” SMG4, turning bright red: “Uh.. c’mon, dude, don’t ruin the moment. It’s not my fault you’re attractive.” SMG3, mischievously leaning to Four: “Really?” SMG4: “Shit.”

Three nuzzled into Four’s neck, kissing all over and leaving Four laughing at how ticklish it was.

SMG4, bursting in laughter: “Three, s-stop!” SMG3, whispered: “Glad to know I wasn’t the only one who thought the same.”

Oh, how wonderful was it to listen to the sounds Four makes.

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

His Four.

After a while, the two catch their breath. They leaned onto each other, held hands, and looked back at the stars.

SMG4: “I promise I’ll be true for you.” [*gave Three's hand a squeeze*] SMG3: [*hums, returning the gesture*] “Well then, I’ll do the same for you.”

Three held many promises, one was to never let Four cry. Now, there was another: to be his truest self.

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Rapunzel featuring Choso! While gathering herbs in the forest, you stumble into the garden of a strange man living in an abandoned watch tower. He talks often about his three little brothers, but you’re beginning to suspect they’re no longer there. 

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Rapunzel. Reader has long hair (she kinda has to for this story) but no other distinguishing physical characteristics. Choso as a classic Yandere. Possessive behavior. Toxic love. Manipulation. Reader is locked up. Mentions of characters dying before the story began. Bondage (not used in a sexual context… yet).

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You bend down to pick some of the herbs you just found, carefully placing them in your basket. These will be perfect for several different medicines you make for the other villagers. You can’t believe what a treasure trove you’ve found. How have you never seen  this place before? 

The basket is feeling heavy on your arm by the time you finish, but you’re so happy with what you’ve gathered that you don’t mind the extra weight. You pick one last handful and turn to head back through the woods and to the village. 

That’s when you see him. A pale man dressed in black, dark hair pulled into strange ponytails on each side of his head. He’s standing directly in your path. 

“Why are you in my garden?” he asks. His tone is curious, not accusatory.

You freeze in place. This is a garden? And it belongs to him? You dip your head in a slight bow. “I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t realize this was your garden. I picked a lot of your herbs,” you say, holding out your basket. “Would you like to keep them?”

He stares into your basket, then at your face. “What do you want herbs for?”

“I make medicines,” you tell him. “Tonics, ointments, all sorts of things.”

He’s silent for a moment, then asks, “Could you make some for me?”

“Of course,” you say, happy that he’s apparently going to let your accidental theft slide. “What kinds do you need?”

“Something for scrapes and cuts. I have three little brothers and they’re always getting hurt while playing in the woods.”

You smile. “Alright. I’ll make some and bring them back to you, as a thank you for the herbs.” You glance around the forest. “Where is your house?”

He hesitates for a few seconds, as if reluctant to reveal where he lives. You’re just about to offer to meet him here in a few days when he turns and begins walking through the woods. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

You tag along behind him, waiting for a house to come into view. You really didn’t know anyone lived out here. But instead of a house, he leads you to a clearing with an enormous tower standing in the middle of it. 

“You live here?” you ask, using your hand to block the sun as you squint upwards, trying to see how high it goes. 

It’s made of stone, gray in color except for a deep red door and matching red shudders all the way up at the top. A window? But why so high? The grass around the tower is thick and unkempt, wild rose bushes climbing the sides, going at least thirty feet up. Red and white roses are blooming beautifully, making the tower look like something from a dream. 

When you step closer, you notice there are black roses blooming here and there. What an unusual color! 

The man opens the red door, made of heavy wood, and motions for you to come inside. 

You follow in behind him, finding a living area with chairs, a fireplace, a rug, and a desk.  Off to the side is a cozy little kitchen with a stove and a small table with four chairs crowded around it. 

“Do you live here by yourself?” you ask, looking around. 

He looks at you with a slightly confused expression. “No, I have three little brothers, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry, I forgot.”

But the tower doesn’t look like three kids live in it. Things are too neat and orderly, and there’s only one place setting on the table. Maybe they’re just very well behaved. 

He notices you glancing around and says, “They’re out gathering wood for the fire right now. They’ll be home soon.”

You nod, then look straight up. “What’s up there?”

He follows your line of sight, tilting his head up. “A couple of bedrooms shared between us,” he answers. “This used to be a watch tower during the war. My brothers and I found it abandoned a few years ago and moved in.”

“That was fortunate,” you say. “I bet they love playing in this tower.”

He smiles, the expression lighting up the room. He has a really nice smile. “Yes, they love it here.”

You smile back, then start toward the door. “I’ll make some medicines for you and come back in three days. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”

As you step outside, you turn back to wave goodbye to him. He waves back, and you leave. Walking back through the woods, you half expect to run into his little brothers, laughing and playing. But you never see another soul until you reach the village. 

In the comfort of your own home, you remove your bonnet and let the long ponytail slip down your back and hit the floor. Even with the ends looped around and tied at the top, your hair brushes the wooden floorboards as you move around the room, assembling your tools. Pans, bowls, a kettle of water set to boil, stone cups and mortars. 

As you begin your work, you realize you never asked the man for his name. 

Three days later, when you return to the tower, the man meets you at the door with a smile. He really does look so kind when he smiles. You wish he would do it more often. 

“I brought the medicines, uh… sir,” you say, holding up a leather bag. 

“Choso,” he says. “My name is Choso. And you?”

Feeling just a bit shy, you avert your eyes as you tell him your name. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize it last time, but he’s very handsome. Even the faint dark circles under his eyes can’t diminish his lovely face. 

“Come in, please,” he tells you, opening the door wider and stepping to the side to give you room. 

Once inside, you go to the kitchen and begin pulling the glass bottles of medicine from your bag and sitting them on the table. Choso walks over and listens intently as you explain their uses. 

“This one is great for scrapes and minor burns or cuts. Wash the wounded area first with warm water, then apply the salve. Bandage if necessary. This one here helps with a cough. Give them one spoonful before bed. Oh, and this one relieves itching from bug bites or rashes they might get from plants while playing.”

You pick one bottle with a purple colored liquid inside. “This will help them sleep, but it’s strong. Only a few drops into some water or milk, okay? Otherwise they’ll be knocked out all day.”

Choso looks at you warmly as you finish explaining them. Then thanks you again. “These will be a big help. My little brothers can be unruly at times.”

You look around the room. “Are they out today?”

Choso nods. “They went to fish in the stream nearby. They should be home later.”

“That’s a pity. I’d like to meet them someday,” you say. 

As you start to head for the door again, Choso places a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Wait. Would you like to join me for dinner? My brothers will be late, so I’ll just give them leftovers.”

Your eyes shift to the stove, where iron pots and pans are sizzling and steaming. You realize then that you can smell food cooking, and it smells delicious. There’s definitely some sort of bread baking, and you’re fairly certain an onion has been sautéed. They’re warm, comforting scents. They remind you of when your parents were alive. 

“Are you sure you’ll have enough?” you ask. 

“There’s plenty,” he replies, gently ushering you to the little round table and pulling out one of the chairs. “My brothers don’t eat much. You know how kids can be picky eaters.”

You sit down in the offered chair. “Alright then. Thank you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Choso says, filling a plate for you. “I haven’t had company for dinner in a long time.” He pauses, seems to think of something, then adds, “I mean I haven’t had a guest for dinner in a long time.”

You look at the plate filled with piping hot food that he sits in front of you. “This all looks incredible!” 

Choso fixes a plate for himself and sits down next to you at the table. “I hope you enjoy it,” he says before beginning to eat. 

Everything you try is divine, from the freshly baked bread to the fried potatoes with onions to the seared pork loin. You wonder how his brothers could possibly be too picky to enjoy this, but you suppose there’s no accounting for kids’ taste. 

After finishing your meal, you stay for a little while to chat with Choso. He’s not overly talkative, but he’s friendly enough, and seems to genuinely enjoy your company. He asks you questions about your medicine making, the village you live in, and eventually reaches the topic of family. 

“My parents died when I was sixteen,” you tell him, “and I have no siblings. My only relatives live so far away that I never see them, so it’s just me.”

His expression softens. “Don’t you get lonely?”

You place your elbow on the table and lean your face onto your hand. With your other hand, your fingers trace over a name childishly carved into the wood. “Yuji”. It must be the name of one of his brothers. You can imagine a little boy doing that, and Choso gently chastising him for it. 

“Sometimes I do,” you answer. “Sometimes I miss having someone to tell my problems to, or something fun or interesting will happen and I’ll want to go home and tell my parents, but there’s no one there. Most of the time I’m fine, but sometimes at night the house is so quiet, all I can hear is my own breathing, and it feels…” You stop and look at Choso. His eyes have a strange intensity to them as he stares at you. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, feeling embarrassed, “I shouldn’t have rambled on like that. You have your brothers, so it must be hard for you to imagine what I’m talking about.”

All at once his expression returns to its normal warm and kind one. “Ah, you’re right. I’m sorry for asking something so personal.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m an open book. Ask whatever you want.”

“Really? In that case, why do you keep your hair so long?” he asks. 

You took your bonnet off to eat dinner, and it would be strange if he hadn’t noticed how long your ponytail is. You reflexively reach up to touch where it’s looped and tied at the back of your head. When loose, your hair drags far behind you. 

“My parents come from a very isolated clan, where a person’s hair is considered their spirit. Hair is sacred to us, so I’ve never cut it since I was born.”

His eyes seem to follow your hair from your head down to the floor. “It’s very beautiful,” he says. “I’d love to see it let down.”

You blush at that remark. He couldn’t know it, but in your parents’ clan, only your spouse is allowed to see you with your hair completely loose. Though your parents left the clan, they raised you to respect many of their customs. 

“Maybe someday,” you say with a faint smile. “Letting my hair down is a very… intimate thing.”

Choso’s pale face turns slightly pink. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, you didn’t know. The clan was a bit strange.”

You leave later that evening, still seeing no signs of his brothers. 

Over the next few weeks, you visit Choso often. He lets you raid his herb garden in exchange for making medicines for him, and you always stay a couple of hours to have dinner with him and talk. 

Choso is still a little quiet, but he’s an excellent listener, always seeming engaged with whatever you talk about. The only topic that makes him chatty is his brothers. He loves telling you stories about their mischief. He clearly loves all three of them, but he seems to have a soft spot for the youngest, Yuji. 

But the more time you spend with Choso, the more you talk to him, the more you start to suspect something terrible. 

Maybe his brothers are gone. 

You’re not sure if a relative might have taken them in, or if they simply ran away to one of the nearby villages, or… if they’re dead. But you’re starting to believe they don’t live at the tower with Choso anymore. You’ve never seen them even once, despite visiting at different hours on different days. Choso always has plenty of food to share, and you’ve never seen any evidence of them still being there. 

You can’t ask Choso about it. Whatever the truth may be, it’s obvious that Choso doesn’t want to deal with it. He’d rather live the lie that they’re still with him than face the truth, and it’s not your place to try to change that. 

So you go along with it. You don’t act suspicious when he says they’re out playing in the woods. You don’t ask any questions about what they’ve been doing lately. It’s none of your business anyway, though it does make you sad. 

One night you end up staying at the tower a little later than usual, wrapped up in a conversation with Choso. When you head home, it’s dark out, and the woods seem a little creepier. 

You start to walk the familiar path to your village, but you hear a wolf howl in the distance. Another wolf howls, then another. It sounds like there’s a pack on the path you need to be on. Deciding to take the long way around, you step onto a different path, one that would take around the other side of the tower. 

On your way, you spot a small clearing. The full moon shines down through the trees, illuminating three identical objects. Stepping closer, you realize what they are. Small cross shaped grave markers. There are no names on them, but the fact that there are three sends a chill down your spine. Three graves for three little brothers? 

You can’t be sure, so you choose to ignore them for now. You’ve already decided to go along with Choso’s sad lie, so what’s the point of saying anything now? 

Continuing on the path, you hear wolves howling again. Are they on this path as well, or did they catch your scent and follow you? 

The air is unseasonably chilly, feeling like winter despite being early autumn. The trees are still full of leaves, and during the day their foliage creates a rainbow of lovely colors: golden yellows, burnt oranges, lush reds. But tonight, they just look dark brown. 

You wrap your thin cloak a little tighter around yourself and hurry along, hoping the wolves are farther away than they sound. Your footsteps are nearly silent on the soft forest floor. It rained yesterday, so the ground is still slightly damp, and the woods still have that earthy smell that always follows the rain. 

A howl again, stopping you in your tracks. Should you run? Or go back to the tower? You’re not sure which option is safer, especially in the dark. It’s hard to judge exactly where you are on this unfamiliar path. 

You hear a growl, and it’s definitely close. Close enough to make your heart pound wildly and the hair on your neck stand up. 

A twig snaps somewhere behind you, and more than one growl can be heard. It sounds like you’re surrounded! As the first wolf emerges from trees to your right, you let out a terrified scream. 

Choso is cleaning up after dinner, humming quietly to himself as he washes the plates he and his guest ate from. 

He finds himself smiling often these days, feeling happy and content for the first time since… 

No, he refuses to think about that right now. He has someone to talk to, to eat dinner with most evenings, to share things with. He’s not alone anymore. 

He’s never really had a guest before she wandered into his garden, and every day since he’s thanked the stars above for sending someone so lovely. She’s sweet and honest and talks to him about her life and seems to actually care about what he has to say. 

And she’s beautiful. 

Choso hasn’t been with a woman, or even been interested in one, in years. Before finding the tower, Choso sometimes sold his body to make enough money to feed his brothers. He didn’t hate it, but most of the encounters felt hollow to him. 

Now, for the first time since he was a teenager, he feels actual desire for someone. But he’s not sure how she feels about him. Maybe he can figure it out if he spends more time with her. 

A shrill scream pierces the night, causing Choso to drop the plate he was washing. A tiny piece of it chipped off. 

He pauses, listening carefully. He hears another scream, and this time he’s certain. It’s her. She’s in trouble! 

Terrible memories flash through his mind as he runs for the door and throws it open. Other screams, calling for Choso to help, begging to be saved as he ran toward the sound. This time, he’ll make it! This time, he won’t lose anyone!

He sprints through the forest, following her voice, tearing through the trees and ignoring the branches scratching his face. 

Another sound fills his ears. Growling and snarling, the snapping of teeth. He knows what makes those sounds all too well.  

As he breaks free of the tree line and onto a path, he sees her. She’s lying on the ground, curled up to try to protect herself, as a small pack of wolves circle her. In the small patches of moonlight, Choso can see that her cloak is torn and there are bloody marks all over her. There’s blood soaking into the dirt beneath her, and she’s alternating between screaming and whimpering. 

Choso yells at the wolves as he rushes forward, kicking the closest ones away. They turn on him, baring their teeth, but he glares at them with the sort of animalistic rage they can understand. They whine as they slowly walk away, leaving him to crouch down and pull her into his arms. 

“I’m here! I scared the wolves away!”

She looks up at him with a tear-streaked face, terror in her eyes. “Choso?”

“Yes, it’s me!” he assures her. “I’ll take you back to the tower to bandage your wounds. It’s closer than the village.”

With that, he scoops her up and carries her back to his home, lying her on a rug in front of the fireplace. She’s awake, thankfully, and fully alert. 

“I’m going to take off your cloak. Is that alright?” he asks. 

She nods, raising up to help him remove it. Then he begins looking over her wounds. They’re not deep, though they are bloody and look quite painful. Choso breathes a sigh of relief to know they’re not life threatening. Unless they get infected. 

He looks from the bite marks, mostly on her shoulders, hands, and calves, to her face. “We should really clean these,” he tells her. “But I don’t want to pull up your dress or your sleeves without permission.”

She gives him a weak smile. “It’s okay. Get some of the ointment I made for you. It should help.”

He leaves to get the ointment from the kitchen, as well as some cloth and warm water. When he comes back, her bloody dress is lying in the corner, and she’s sitting up on the floor in a thin but modest slip. It’s sleeveless, falling to knee length, and it perfectly reveals her wounds. 

Choso doesn’t take the time to stare or blush. This isn’t that type of situation. His only concern is bandaging her up and ensuring her safety. 

With her directing him, he cleans the bite marks and applies the ointment, then carefully wraps them in cloth. One arm had to be wrapped from shoulder to fingers, but the other only had a couple of scratches on her shoulder. Both calves had bites that required bandages, and one foot was bruised. 

Choso steps out of the room while she examines herself for any hidden wounds, and is relieved that she found none. When all is finished, they sit together by the fireplace. 

“Thank you for saving me,” she says. “Those wolves would have killed me.”

“I would never let that happen,” he tells her, looking her in the eyes. 

She looks surprised by that comment, but then smiles in that sweet way that has captivated him. “You’re a wonderful person, Choso. You know that, right?”

He feels himself blush a little. “I’m not. I’ve had… many failings. But I’m glad you feel that way.”

They talk a while longer, sticking to light topics that occasionally make her giggle. He thinks she’s marvelous when she laughs, like a bright ray of sun in his dark world. He can’t imagine his life without her in it. He can’t fathom going back to the crushing loneliness. If anything ever happened to her…

His thoughts freeze when she reaches up and begins untying her hair. He watches in stunned silence as she pulls out pins and thin ribbons, finally letting it all come pouring down, fanning out around her. It shimmers in the flickering light of the fireplace, almost seeming to glow. 

It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

Then he remembers all at once what she said about her hair before. Letting down her hair is intimate to her. It’s not something she does for everyone. Does that mean she feels comfortable with him? That she trusts him? 

He wants to touch her hair, to run his fingers through it, but he doesn’t want to offend her. Instead he stares at it in wonder. 

She looks a little shy as she asks, “Do you want to touch it?”

“May I?”

She nods. 

He reaches up close to her face and touches one shiny lock, moving his hand down to run over the fine tresses. It feels magnificent. But most wondrous of all is the look on her face: heated, flushed… aroused?

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, his face close to hers. 

You don’t know what you’re thinking. Letting your hair down? In front of a man who is not your spouse? Your parents would be turning in their graves. But in the moment, it just felt right. 

There’s no point in denying it to yourself any longer. You’ve fallen for Choso. When the wolves attacked you, all you could think about was how sad you were that you’d never get to see him again. These past few weeks you’ve spent visiting him have been your happiest since your parents were alive. 

And unless you’re reading him completely wrong, you think he feels the same way. So when he leans close to you and tells you you’re beautiful, your natural reaction is to kiss him. 

It’s not a deep kiss, just a soft, slow kiss to his lips. When you part, he’s looking at you as if you’re a goddess that has descended to earth. Then he kisses you back. 

In a whirl, you’re wrapped in each other’s arms on the rug, his hands in your hair, his mouth on yours, his body pushing against you. While kissing you, his hands move down to your shoulders and slide the straps of your slip down your arms. You feel the silky fabric glide down over your breasts, revealing them to Choso before the slip is pulled down your hips and off your legs, finally discarded near your dress. 

He pulls back to look at you with awe, and you feel like some rare treasure, almost too precious to be touched. Choso’s touches are so light and gentle, it feels like he’s afraid he might break you. So when he stares at your panties, clearly wanting to remove them but hesitating, you pull them off yourself. 

Choso removes his own clothing, displaying his surprisingly well toned body. You had no idea he was hiding such a perfectly sculpted torso beneath those loose fitting clothes. 

He eases you onto your back, then softly pushes your legs apart before positioning himself between them, a little too far back for what you’re expecting. Then he scoots back a little more, bends forward, and kisses your exposed pussy. 

The action sends a shiver down your spine, and soon you feel his fingers opening your slickened folds so that his tongue can reach the most sensitive parts of you. Your back arches off the floor as pleasure radiates through your body. His thumb strokes you, his tongue massages your clit, and one of his fingers slips inside you. 

“Ch-Choso!” you cry out between gasping breaths. His eyes flick from his work at hand to your face, but he never stops. Not even when you cum, trembling and panting. And soon enough, with his lips wrapped around that tiny little bundle of nerves, you cum for a second time. It washes over you, making your entire body tingle, your wounds forgotten and lost in a sea of ecstasy. 

He takes the time to lick up any juices, as if he can’t bear for a single drop to go to waste, before pulling back and sitting on his knees. That’s when you notice his erection, already twitching and leaking. 

You raise up and reach toward him, but he gently catches your hand and smiles at you. “It’s alright. You don’t have to do anything. It’s enough for me to know I’m giving you pleasure.”

It doesn’t look like it’s enough. He looks like he might burst. You slip your hand free and reach out again. This time he doesn’t stop you as your fingers brush over his tip. He sighs, his eyes closing, as your hand glides down his shaft. “I want to make you feel good too,” you tell him. “I want us to feel good together.”

His eyes open and he looks at you, a soft blush across his face. “Do you mean…?”

You lie back on the rug, your thighs parted. “Make love to me, Choso. I want to feel you inside me.”

His eyes shine in the fire light, and you think there’s only one word that could describe his expression: love. You look back at him, hoping your expression mirrors his. Because now you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you love this man. 

You’re not entirely sure how this will all work out, if you’ll be able to convince him to move to the village and live with you, or if you’ll end up living in the tower with him. And you don’t even want to think about how to deal with his grief over his brothers right now. But you want to help him. You want to put in the effort required to make this work. 

He moves closer to you, crawling over top of you while bracing himself with his arms, ensuring he doesn’t let his weight rest on your body. Every move he makes seems to revolve around not hurting you, and you’ve never felt so cherished, so protected. 

He leans on one arm while his free hand moves down between your bodies, positioning himself. Then, he pushes in. In true Choso fashion, he’s careful and slow, afraid to cause you discomfort. You wrap your arms around his neck and look up at his face. He seems strained, as if he’s using all his willpower to hold back. 

“You’re not hurting me,” you tell him, pulling him closer. “Please, I want you deeper, harder.”

He hesitates for a moment, staring at your face. Then all at once he plunges in, all the way, making you gasp and tighten your grip on his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but you shake your head, bucking your hips up to take him even deeper. 

When he starts thrusting, you moan out his name, your nails scratching at his back, your body rising to meet him each time. His bare chest brushes against yours, one of his hands at the back of your head, holding you snugly, his fingers laced in your hair. 

“I love you,” he mutters into your ear. “I love you so much!”

You shudder as he hits an incredibly sensitive spot. “I love you too, Choso!”

He thrusts faster, deeper, groaning when you clench him. His body is scraping across you, creating delicious friction against your clit, making you whimper into his shoulder. 

Within minutes, you cum again, squeezing him tightly, almost sobbing. You feel so overwhelmed with pleasure, with love, that it feels like you’re unraveling in his arms. 

A little after, you feel Choso pulsing and twitching within you before strings of hot cum fill you up. You stay latched onto him for a while, reluctant to let go and be out of his arms. 

When you finally part, you both sit in silence, only breathing, until the two of you regain your strength. Then Choso helps you clean up before sitting back down on the rug beside you. 

Feeling a little awkward after all of that, you decide to make light conversation. 

“I think I can make it home tomorrow,” you say. “I have a lot of medicines to make. The villagers can get impatient. Would you like to come visit me sometime? I can show you how I use your herbs.”

He looks at you for a moment, a strange look on his face. “Are you sure you should try tomorrow? You’re still hurt.”

“I think I’ll be alright, thanks to you. None of the wounds hinder me from walking.”

He’s silent for several seconds, then says, “The wolves might come back.”

“I don’t think they’re as active during the day,” you reply. “Maybe you could walk me home.” You add the last part as a way to invite him. You really hope he’ll take a liking to the village. 

He smiles, but there’s something off about it, as if the emotion isn’t genuine. “Sure. I can walk you home.”

Did you do something wrong? He’s being strangely closed off. He seems to be avoiding your eyes as he stands up. “I’ll fix you some tea.”

You nod, suddenly feeling insecure. When he returns with the cup, you’re so distracted that you barely glance at it before taking a long drink. 

Maybe, if your mind hadn’t been elsewhere, you would have noticed the strange smell. But even so, you definitely notice the taste. How could you not? It comes from something you made after all. But why would Choso put the sleep aid medicine in your tea? And if it’s strong enough for you to taste this clearly, he must have used way too much. 

Oh no. This will knock you out for at least a day! 

As your vision gets fuzzy, you drop the cup and try to look at him. “Choso? Why…?”

His face looks pained. “I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous for you to go home. Let’s wait until you’re healed up, okay? I’ll take good care of…”

You black out before you hear the rest of the sentence. 

When you awake, you’re lying on a straw mattress on the floor of an unfamiliar room. There’s a blanket over you and a soft pillow beneath your head. 

You sluggishly pull the blanket off and sit up, holding a hand to your head. You feel groggy and tired, your muscles sore. Looking down at yourself, you see that your bandages have been changed and your slip, the only clothing you have on, has been washed. 

But most alarming of all is the metal shackle on your ankle. There’s a long chain attached to it, so long that you can’t yet see the other end. Underneath the shackle, strips of cloth are tied around your ankle, probably to keep the metal from bruising your skin. 

You get to your feet and look around. The walls are gray stone. There’s a small dresser and mirror off to the side, a shelf lined with books, and the mattress you just got up from. On the dresser there’s a basket of fresh fruits and nuts that can be found in the forest. And on one rounded wall, a pair of deep red shudders. 

Gathering your strength, you walk over to the shudders and open them. As you suspected from the minute you stood up, you’re in the top of the tower! You look down, the cold wind hitting your face and blowing your hair around wildly. It’s a straight drop, not a single foothold in sight. 

You glance at the only door in the room, noticing the numerous locks attached to it. The terrible truth sinks in to your drowsy brain. 

You’re trapped here. Choso has effectively taken you prisoner, and you have no idea why.  

[iluvoscarpiastri]

i usually don’t like to really ever publicly talk about this stuff just cause it leads to too much negativity in the fan base but this post is so ‼️

i started F1 as a lando fan. i was like in love with him. ofc i supported max, charles, oscar, alex everyone but he was just 💘. and i never thought that this is a post that i would ever be typing out 😭.

in the press conference post miami gp race, i remember the reporter asked max if he thinks lando would still have won without the safety car. max knew what they were trying to do and he also knew that lando was going to be very harsh on himself about the race so he instantly shut down any attempts at discrediting lando’s win. he fully backed lando up and was very very happy for lando’s win.

fast forward to zandvoort, when lando won max’s home race, nothing against that at all. that’s just how it happens. no driver is entitled to a race win simply because it’s their home race, however, i do think it was unnecessary for him to throw in the “simply lovely”. did F1 twt go insane about this to an unacceptable extent? yes. but i just want to point out and bring to light the fact that if the roles had been reversed, and max had pulled something like this, you best believe that not just twitter fan pages but fucking sky sports would’ve made it into a huge deal where max was being “disrespectful” and “acting like a child”.

then, brazil gp. there is not a single formula 1 fan who can deny that max’s drive that day was fucking phenomenal. going from P17 to P1 in probably the 2nd or 3rd fastest car with limited visibility and dangerous track conditions is nothing sort of a fucking master class in driving. i understand that lando’s words were taken out of context but it still doesn’t change the fact that some of what he said was completely unavoidable.

lando has always been an advocate for mental health and i have a shit ton of respect for him for that. in this sport, talking about mental health becomes extremely necessary considering the high pressure scenarios, constant public scrutiny, uncertainty of job security too amongst a lot of other things.

like the original post said, why should we feel sympathy for the hate lando’s been getting when the one that max has been getting not just this season but probably ever since he won his first championship is simply ignored as a part and parcel of being in such a sport??

max was booed at multiple races last year, i didn’t see anyone coming out to talk about how it might have been affecting max’s mental health negatively?? do yall really think that just because he acts like it doesn’t affect him, he’s immune to it? where was this talk about mental health when max was being villainised left and right by sky sports? a media company that needs to remain unbiased considering they’re one of the primary broadcasters for F1 related news. where was this talk about mental health when anything and everything that max said or did was taken out of context and his name was dragged through the mud??

i do not condone hating on any driver because of petty ass shit. but it gets tiring to see such double standards.

i am in no way discrediting the hate that lando has been getting off late and i think that’s it’s despicable that people stoop to such petty acts in order to feel better about themselves. the lando hate train has gotten really out of hand and i genuinely think mclaren should take legal action against a lot of these accounts.

but that still does not take away from the fact that max has been hated equally as much and i did not see anyone come forwards and talk about how it might have impacted him negatively.

You know what? I might sound like a c*nt when I say this, but why are we suddenly supposed to feel sorry for Norris?

Are we forgetting the way Norris basically threatened his friendship with Max over something most drivers saw as a racing incident? The way he so happily disrespected Max at his homerace, the way he's been shitting on Max's driving, the way he's tried to undermine Max's performance several times as if it were just luck, when Max has done the complete opposite for him?

The way his friends have been shitting on Max on social media? The way official social media accounts related to him have been taking digs at Max? The way his father liked that disgusting meme of Norris punting Max off at Copse corner? The way his team has been shitting on Max 24/7?

Max has been antagonised by Norris, his team, his family, his friends and his fans all year long, but now we are supposed to sympathise with him??

No. I don't care. And I don't care how that makes me sound.

This time should be about Max's stellar drive in Brazil and the way he's carried this Championship. Not about Norris reaping what he's sowed.

[cosmicjoke]

Levi never Glorified Violence and Never needed to be Taught a Lesson that Violence is Wrong:

Nothing makes me want to rip my hair out more than when I see clowns saying Levi was "blinded by revenge" over wanting to kill Zeke, that he was "too violent", and that's why he got blown up by the thunderspear.

It's such a deeply, fundamentally WRONG understanding of why Levi wanted to kill Zeke, and also, of why he ended up getting blown up. I've already spoken about the strategically sound reasoning behind Levi's actions, which you can read here, if you're interested: https://www.tumblr.com/cosmicjoke/746918499422781440?source=share But to summarize, Levi hooking Zeke to the thunderspear made perfect, logical sense within the context of Zeke's own actions and behavior up to that point. Zeke was someone who until then had engaged in tactics of deception and double-crosses, who had only killed others while at a safe distance and within the cocoon of his Titan form. Decidedly the actions and behavior of a coward. Levi had no, good cause to suspect Zeke would be willing to blow himself up to also take Levi out, and so his reasoning that the thunderspear would act as insurance against Zeke escaping while Levi was preoccupied with driving the cart back to the capital was a reasonable and logical conclusion for him to make. It wasn't a decision blinded by rage or an action taken in hast. Just like it was reasonable for Zeke to assume Levi would rather die than cut down his own comrades, because he knew of Levi's compassion. Both of them underestimated each other, and both of them paid for making assumptions about the other.

But further to the point, this whole idea that Levi was being "punished" for his violence is the stupidest shit I've ever seen. Because it basically posits that Levi glorified violence, and so needed to be "taught a lesson" that violence was wrong, when he's the one character in the story who NEVER did that. He never reveled in violence, he never tried to frame it as something good or desirable, or even tried to justify it. He always spoke about and treated violence for what it was, a means to an end and nothing more. He never tried to moralize it or excuse it. He was always completely objective about it.

Compare, for example, the matter of fact way Levi explains violence and killing to Armin and Jean, versus how Zeke frames his own actions of violence. Zeke calls his murder of people a "mercy". He frames it as a positive action which results in a positive, better outcome. He has a totally warped view of killing and violence because he tries to justify it and moralize it to himself and others. He tries to frame his violence as something which makes him a hero. Levi does no such thing. He tells Jean and Armin that he doesn't know if it's right or wrong to kill, only that if Armin hadn't killed that MP, they would all be dead, and that Armin can't go back to the person he was, because he's now taken human life. He isn't justifying it, or moralizing it, he isn't trying to spin it into something positive or good, or even into something bad or wrong. He's simply stating an objective truth and then telling the 104th that they need to make their own choice about what they believe is right and wrong in any, given situation.

Or compare the way Levi approaches torturing Sannes to how Hange does. Hange goes into that situation gung-ho at the idea of torturing Sannes, because she wants revenge on him for killing Pastor Nick. She thinks she'll enjoy torturing Sannes, and attempts to enjoy it by taking it to an extreme, only to realize she's getting no satisfaction at all from her cruelty. By comparison, Levi never does or even attempts to take pleasure in the act of torture. He approaches it as a means to an end, something he has to do in order to obtain the information they need to overthrow the current government. There's no justification in his mind, no excuse he tells himself to make himself feel better about it. He already knows it's horrible and ugly. He already understands perfectly the wretched reality of violence. Again, he's the ONLY character in the story who does, from start to finish. It's why Hange is so rattled and upset after torturing Sannes, because she thought it would be fun, only to learn it was anything but. Levi never thought it would be fun, he never expected it to be, never wanted it to be, and he never tried to convince himself that it was anything better than what it actually was. It's why we see his shocked expression when Hange engages in unnecessary cruelty by ripping one of Sannes' teeth out. He's always been the most objective character when it comes to violence. He's never labored under any belief that his violence made him a hero, and he never tried to glorify violence to anyone or told them they were heroes for killing.

It's also why Yelena says to him what she does, during the final arc, and the battle at the docks. Because she knows that he knows, better than anyone, the inherent violence of the human condition and the ugly reality of it. Yelena is trying to again push her fanatical belief in Zeke's antinatalist philosophy, by pointing out that people are always going to kill and be cruel to each other, and she makes the point to Levi specifically, because she knows Levi is the only one who'd already long ago understood and accepted that truth.

So this idea that Levi is this ultra-violent, revenge-obsessed lunatic that needs to be taught that "violence is bad" is fucking moronic, and I am SICK TO DEATH of seeing people perpetuate that bullshit take. I want to tell everyone who does to just shut the fuck up already, because they're actively damaging the perception people have of Levi's character every time they spew that garbage.

[soft-cristobalite]

Watched arcane season 2 act 1, thought abt it, so here are some of my thoughts in no particular order. Obvious spoilers.

Also, i watched in dub. Important to know when i am quoting charaters + when i am talking about their tone.

Starting of with something that is directly affected by dub — ukrainian Jayce is my Jayce. Ppl said he sounded condesending while talking to Ekko — not. at. alllll. true for my Jayce. My Jayce sounded tired, emotionaly burn out. "You drink tea, Ekko?" said with no though to it, in a context of continues talking of "Haha do i live here? Hahah....... Do you guys want tea? Want some tea? I'll make tea. Do you drink tea, Ekko?". But d-dub is supposed to stay true to the original— I DONT CAREEE. I love my blorbo almost-himbo Jayce, never changing his characterisation in my mind.

And i will hold Jayce's hand when i say this — you were. Just so gay for like... Essentialy going "Are you okay? Good, good" to lady Mel Medarda HERSELF and then seeing Victor and losing your mind. Sprinting with him in your hands to your lab. LIVING in your lab to monitor him. I just... I get it, you don't have many friends. But like...... Really dude. Reaally.

Give Mel and Ekko thirty minutes. I promise you they would work it out. Eternal piece would be achieved.

I know there are a lot of different opinions regarding Caitlyn. I will not be explaining in-depts what i think about her acr, because a) who cares and b) i like to see her go cray-cray. But like — why isnt anybody exept for Vi attempting to stop her??? Like why is Jayce mourning Victor's twink death instead of, yk, stopping his childhood-best-friend-kinda-younger-sister from killing ppl of Zaun, the last thing Victor wants btw? She and Vi are twenty-ish — WHYYYY are they going through it by themselves??? Why doesnt baby yoda guy with German name that i dont dare to write trying to stop the daughtrer of his ex-collegue? He is 600 or something, im sure he could've come up with advice.

Cait pointing her gun at a child is terrifying, it opens up the possibilities of her going even more blinded with anger, doing even more horrific things, and Vi is right to try and stop her. However... I know damn right i would've believe her when she said she will not miss 😭 Every single time she fired her gun she was very precise. Even in that scene she aimed at the gun the girl was holding like two seconds ago and got a perfect. fucking. score. Like i dont remember her missing at all, actually.

"Ohhhhh you're gonnnaaa haaaaaattteeee Maddie after act two—" says who? On that note, i hope both Cait AND Vi will sleep with a few random people. Good for them. Let them try to forget about each other only to realise just how down bad they are for one another. Let the scenes of Cait and Maddie hooking up intertwine with Vi's one night stand.

"Maddie is just gonna be a victim of comander Cait :(((" and i do not have any thing to say to that — we dont yet KNOW what will happen — but I dont think Cait will try to manipulate her into this. I think Maddie will flirt a bit, Cait will try and seek salvage and vulnerability in someone, especially since she is now constantly in public's eye and needs to project hope™ and stoicism™. It will be a genuine attempt to move on — not anybody's fault she can't.

But oh god, oh goooddd i cant wait for Maddie to loose the spark in her eyes due to lesbian situationship.

[readerstories]

Our Alpha - Poolverine x male reader

Someone was talking about A/B/O on my dash, and for some reason my brain took it, ran away with it, and came back with this fic. (AO3)

Warnings/tags: a/b/o dynamics, male reader, porn without much plot, anal, fingering, oral, knotting, friends to lovers

Wordcount: 4935

Summary: Wade and Logan accidentally trigger on of you ruts. Fuckery ensues. (Reader is about the same height as Logan and Wade, has hair, and is clean shaven. Age wise he has had ruts for more than a decade.)

When you first met Logan, you had been surprised that he’s not an alpha. All about him screams alpha, the posturing, caring, the strength. But, after Wade had explained to you that Logan came from a universe where alphas, betas, and omegas are not a thing at all, it made a lot more sense. He’s just Logan, not anything else.

Logan is a great addition to your friend group, even though he takes up a spot you had wanted for a good while, that being the one of Wade’s partner. You have known Wade for years, and he had always been in love with Vanessa, even when they had broken up. So you had long since settled for just being near Wade, and now near Wade and Logan.

Sometimes you will have movie nights over at their apartment, just the three of you. It’s almost a sweet kind of torture, being so close to them with no on else around, but you will take what you can get in just about any context.

Which is why you find yourself in front of their apartment door, ringing the doorbell, bag of snacks in hand.

When Wade opens the door, you are about to greet him like usual, but the words die on your tongue as the smell hits you.

Wade’s blood. Logan’s blood. The lingering scent of sex. Sex between Wade and Logan.

It’s not like you have never smelt any of these scents before, but they’ve never hit you all at once, and so FRESH. 

They’ve clearly just come back from a job, Wade is still in a torn up suit without his mask on, Logan much the same as he steps next to Wade since he’s still just holding the door open.

“You okay?” Wade asks, worry on his face.

Your mind has stopped working, all you can clearly hear is the blood rushing in your ears. All you can feel is your gut stirring alongside your cock.

Fuck, you are going into a rut. 

Your first unplanned one in about a decade.

FUCK.

“I- I- I’m sorry!” You drop the bag and turn on your heel, booking it down the hallway. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you need to get home and fucking deal with this.

How fucking embarrasing.

—---

You get home and change immediately, only putting on a loose set of pants and a t-shirt. You’ll want the clothes off soon enough, but for now you keep them on as you pace you living room, cursing yourself for being sent into a rut by your fucking crushes. You are too old for that kind of shit. You have more control than that.

Your doorbell rings. You ignore it. 

There’s hard knocks on your door. You ignore it. 

Your door is kicked in, this you can’t ignore, finding yourself on your feet in seconds. 

You growl, feeling your canines grow as the sound spills from your open mouth. Your mouth snaps shut as Wade steps into your apartment. He has changed, he’s now wearing some grey sweatpants, sneakers, and a red hoodie. 

But he clearly hasn’t showered, because he still smells like blood and sex, which is making your head swim. Logan is much the same as he follows just behind Wade, a black flannel instead of a hoodie covering his torso. He closes the door behind them both, leaning back against it, keeping some distance while Wade stands just a few steps away from you.

Omega, beta, omega, beta, protect, fuck, scent. Your rut-brain not very helpfully screams.

“You can’t go running like that and not make us think something is super wrong.” The scent of them both is maddening, and it’s only growing thicker with every second they spend it in your apartment. You swallow, clenching your hands at your sides, ignoring the urge to drag the omega Wade closer.

“Nothing is wrong.” You grit out between clenched teeth.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Speaking of pants, you are glad you are wearing loose ones, so at least your hard cock isn’t as obvious as it feels. What is obvious however, is the scent of a rut rolling off you in waves. You wonder how Wade hasn’t noticed it yet as he keeps looking at you, for once showing that he can be patient, waiting for you to speak. 

Logan notices though, taking a few deep sniffs, then pushes off the door. Your eyes snap to him, but he doesn’t return the look, grabbing Wade’s shoulder, making him look at Logan too.

“Wade, what is that smell?” He asks Wade, and your face burns. Of course Logan hasn’t actually smelt a rut before, but with his heightened senses he picks up that something has changed. 

“What?” The skin where Wade’s brows should be scrunches up before he takes a few deep breaths.

Then his head whips towards you, a grin spreading over his face and delight filling up his brown and beautiful eyes.

“Someone’s going into ~rut~" Wade almost sings as he keeps grinning. You are breathing heavily, though you stutter as Wade licks his lips, and all your mind supplies you with is how good they would feel on you. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever smelt that on you during the time we’ve known each other.” That had been on purpose, you always stayed away from Wade around your ruts, always able to find some excuse that never made him question it, at least not to your face. “What made that change?” Your eyes flicker between him and Logan, taking in how they are both paying full attention to you. It makes the alpha in you purr in satisfaction, you resist the urge to let the noise out, suppressing the urge to preen under their shared attention. Wade gasps, taking your looks and silence as an answer.

“Logan? Well done peanut, didn’t think you had it in you!” He turns around and squishes Logan’s face in his hands.  The shifting of their attention away from you to just each other almost makes you growl, but instead of a noise out of your mouth, you manage to find a few words.

“Both of you.” Wade’s head whips around again, and he grins.

“Ohhh, greedy little alpha.” This time you let out a growl. If he’s going to be an ass about this, you rather not have him near, even as much as all your instincts are screaming at you to grab them both and show them who the alpha is. Their alpha.

“Just leave.” The words feel wrong leaving your mouth, like ash covering your tongue when all you want to feel is the heat of the men in front of you. 

You blink slowly as Wade invades your personal space, throwing his arms around your neck, but he doesn’t touch anymore of your body. Your mind screams to grab his hips so you can have him fully against you, but the little self control you have left makes your arms stay at your side. His scent is strong this close, you want more of it, so you close your eyes, letting yourself at least have that. His smell is familiar to you, burnt sugar, leather, and gunpowder, all with an undercurrent of omega. Your omega.

He chuckles, fingers treading through the hair on the back of your neck.

“Come on, what would you rather do? Spend the next however many days stuck with just your own hands and a knotting fleshlight for company, or do you rather want two hot sets of hands and two hot bodies on you at all times?” Your eyes open to first look at Wade, then at Logan, who’s still standing a few steps away.

“Two? When did I get dragged into this?” He tilts his head, you see Wade grin in the corner of your eye as you and Logan look at each other.

“Like you haven’t looked and thought about it.” Logan shrugs just as a hand hooks itself under your chin, and your gaze is redirected back to Wade.

“So, what do you say?” You are not going to say anything, but you are definitely going to do something as the little control you had slips through your fingers. 

You grab Wade’s hips and pull him flush against you, swallowing the little noise he lets out as you press your lips against his. They are softer than you thought, if a little bumpier than other people that you’ve kissed before. Not that anyone else matters right now, as the hand in your hair tightens as you deepen the kiss, stealing breaths as your lips move against one another.

Your tongue brushes against his lips, asking for entry, which Wade gladly gives with a little noise you try to chase with your tongue. The inside of his mouth is soft and warm, an untouched part of his skin. Your fingers push his hoodie up just enough to feel the skin on his stomach and hips while your tongue dances with his, making him let out these little gasps you take in greedily.

Wade is the one that breaks the kisses, which you make a sound at that you will forever deny is a whimper, but at least it gives you the opportunity to kiss down the side of his neck instead as your fingers press into Wade’s bare hips.

“Come on peanut, your turn.” You lick over his neck as he speaks, feeling his pulse under your tongue. You see movement in the corner of your eye, which makes you look to the side, mouth still on Wade’s neck as you see Logan step closer.

Everything about him screams alpha to your brain, your mind not all there in the warmth of your rut. The growl starts low in your chest, which makes Logan raise an impressive brow where he now stands next to you and Wade.

“No, bad dog!” Wade slaps your chest, making you stop kissing his neck, directing your attention back to his face. The growl dies in your chest, but you huff at him. “Don’t you fucking start, just smell him.” Wade reaches out and grabs Logan, yanking him close, pressing him against the side of your bodies with just a small grunt of protest from Logan. Your eyes flicker between them, the alpha in you wanting to satisfy your omega, so you move just slightly, just enough that you can push your nose against Logan’s neck while keeping your hold on Wade.

You take a deep breath in, letting Logan’s scent wash over you. He smells like he always does, pine, tobacco, and coffee, but now with a delicious add-on of sweat, blood, Wade, and sex. A noise starts up in your chest again, but this time it’s a purr as you lick over the warm skin under your mouth, drinking in Logan’s scent and taste. He startles as the first touch of your tongue, but tilts his head to the side to give you more access, and a warm hand settles on your hip.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Wade mutters, the purr in your chest just deepens as he lets out a little laugh. “I’ve always called Logan kitty because of his hair, but all along it’s been you that's the kitty.” You lean back from Logan, replacing your mouth on his neck with a hand. You lean in to kiss Wade again, but is stopped by his hand over your mouth. Your purring stops as you look at him with confusion.

“As much as I will let you ravage me anywhere in the future, let's move this to a bed?” You do not like being stopped, but the word future and all its implications you do, so you must concede that the idea of soft sheets under you is a great one. 

So, you do the next logical step, letting go of them both so you can bend down and throw Wade over your shoulder. He yelps in surprise, but relaxes as you grab Logan’s hand and start to walk towards your bedroom.

“Great view from up here.” A hand grabs at your ass, which makes Logan snort behind you, and the alpha part of your brain happy with how you are doing well with your mates.

You throw Wade down on your bed, he settles after a little bounce, not having time to do anything else besides opening his legs as you crawl up onto the bed and settle between them. He grabs your hair and tries to pull you into a kiss, but your mouth descends on his neck instead.

“Oh, yeah, this was worth those many words of build up.” You roll your hips against him, your hard cock sliding deliciously against his quickly hardening one. The smart thing would have been to get both of your clothes off before getting into bed, but all you want is to be pressed close, no time for anything else. 

Wade doesn’t quite seem to agree though, as his hands push at your waistband. Your main focus is on his neck, tongue licking over his textured skin, tasting the slight salt of sweat mixed with Wade’s scent, and the sweet aroma of omega. Your omega.

“Come on honey badger, little help here?” The bed dips next to you, and then there’s a second set of hands pushing at your pants. They slide down easily until they hit the bend of your knees, which you are gently encouraged to lift, one at the time. Your mouth keeps working over Wade’s neck, over what you can reach while he has his hoodie on. You pull on the collar of it, a thought forming of trying to just rip it off him, but the thought is quickly gone as hands push at your chest. You growl, not wanting to take your mouth of Wade for even a second.

You are made to do so however, as you’re yanked back by the collar of your t-shirt, which is then quickly pulled over your head. You snarl at Logan, who just throws your t-shirt to the side and raises an unimpressed brow at you. The alpha in you craves control, so grab his hair and pull him into a kiss.

He’s quick to return it, giving as good as he gets. Slightly chapped lips opening for you so willingly as your tongue presses against his lips, his own tongue meeting yours in a way that makes electricity zip down your spine. You feel your cock leak pre-cum, even though Logan’s hands are only on your shoulders. 

You keep his head still with your grip in his hair, licking into his mouth between deep breaths and scenting the air. Arousal rolls of him, making him smell stronger, and more and more right by the second.

You are just about to twist sound fully and push him onto his back so you can crawl over him, your hands moving to his still clothed chest ready to do so, but you are distracted by a textured hand grasping your cock. 

You break your kiss with Logan, looking down at Wade, who has during your kisses with Logan undressed fully. He’s hairless all over, all lean muscle rippling as he shifts. His legs are splayed open, his hard cock standing at attention, slick leaking slowly from between his thighs. His hand pumps your cock slowly, grinning as both of you look at him, and your mouth fills with drool as you take a few deep breaths to fill your nose with the scent of him too.

“Was starting to feel left out.” You let go of Logan, who immediately starts to unbutton his flannel as you fall back between Wade’s open legs. One of your hands slips down to his cock, giving it a few strokes, mirroring his hand on your cock. His hand not on your cock tugs at your hair, his knees pressing into the side of your hips.

“Hmmm, hey there alpha.” The title runs off Wade’s tongue so easily, it sounds so right, so your purr starts up again as you move your hand from his cock to between his legs where slick leaks out of him. His breath hitches as you slip two fingers into him, the digits sinking in with ease as he tilts his head back, putting his neck on display for you.

You lean in to kiss over it, letting teeth dance over the skin in a tease of a bite. He rocks down onto your hand as you slip a third finger inside, his hand around your cock tightening and making you grunt.

You need to get inside him soon, or this round might be over too quick for anyone's liking.

You pull your fingers out from Wade, turning your head as you hold them out towards Logan, who was just about to pull his pants off. He pauses, glances as Wade, before he looks at you. He then leans forwards as keeps eye contact with you, sliding your fingers into his mouth. He sucks and licks at your digits, tasting Wade on you, making you and Wade groan in unison. You from the tight feeling of his mouth around your fingers which makes you imagine it going elsewhere, Wade from how good Logan looks with his mouth occupied.

“Fucking hell peanut.” Logan grins, pulling off your fingers with an obscene pop. You lean on your elbows over Wade as you watch Logan take his pants off, leaving him fully nude too. He’s a lot hairier and bulkier than Wade, a beautiful contrast. He’s fully hard as well, kneeling next to you and Wade. One of his hands brushes over one of Wade’s legs where it’s pressed against your side. 

You turn your head back towards Wade, leaning down and rubbing your face over his neck and shoulders, purring again. His head shifts, and then there’s the sound of kissing above you. Your purr only stutters with a growl for a second before a solid hand joins Wade’s on your cock, and guides you against Wade’s hole. 

The hands fall away, and with a single thrust you are fully seated inside Wade, balls resting against him. You feel him gush around you as he moans loudly, hand in your hair tightening for a moment before it loosens.

“There you go alpha, come on.” Wade’s hands dance over your back as you lick over his neck. He’s so warm and wet around your cock, so perfect, like he was made for you. For the moment you just grind down against him, pressing him into the bed with your full weight. It traps his cock between the two of you, making him leak all over your stomachs. 

Your grinding doesn’t last for long however, as you pull your hips back so you can start fucking into Wade. Small movements at first, barely moving as you keep your mouth on his neck, sucking hickeys into textured skin that disappear in seconds. It irritates part of you that it won’t stay, but part of you also is happy with the neverending space to make new marks on him. 

Your head swirls with the thought of mate mate mate mate, arousal building with every second, making you speed up, and Wade moans loudly as you do so.

“Yes, yes, alpha” Wade's breath stutters at a particularly hard thrust. “Give me your knot.” You growl in satisfaction, hearing your omega beg while his hands grasps over your back is just how it should be.

“Knot?” Logan’s voice talks over Wade’s little moans and groans, and the wet sound of you filling Wade with your cock over and over again.

“Oh yeah, this is like a new sex ed for you. Rememb- AH, fuck -I told you, alpha’s has knots- shit, shit, shit- makes their dick swell and makes them stuck inside- Inside! Ah! -their partner. It’s an evolut~ion~ thing, to make it really have an opportunity to stick. I- I- I- can’t actually get kids, buT I don’t think that’s go-go-gonna stop our little greeeeeedy alpha here from try-ing!” Hearing Wade struggling to explain to Logan while you fuck him makes you grin against his skin. You shift up to kiss him, to steal his moans and grunts right out of his mouth. He clutches as you, knees pressing hard enough against your side that you are sure you are going to bruise your hips. You keep fucking into him, but push at one leg so he folds it up. Logan pushes at the other leg, making Wade fold in half underneath you. The two of you hold him in place as you pound into him, chasing your orgasm.

Another wet sound joins the cacophony of wonderful sounds in the room, which makes you stop kissing Wade and lean back a little. Wade keeps his eyes closed, and moans loudly and arches his back as soon as his lips are free. You look at Logan, who has the hand not on Wade around his own cock. You slow down your thrusts into Wade ever so minutely, making him whimper and open his eyes, looking at you first, then glancing at Logan. Wade whimpers again as you growl.

“Stop touching.” It’s the first words you’ve said during this whole thing, you don’t know if that is what makes Logan listen, or if it’s the scent of alpha you can feel rolling off you as your hips keep rolling into Wade. You know the scent is strong, especially for someone with his nose.

“Fucking hell, hot as hell, alpha, alpha!” Wade splutters, hole fluttering around your cock.

“Mine.” You growl, shifting so you can lean down and take Logan’s cock into your throat as you keep fucking into Wade. They moan in unison, making your head scream the word mine over and over and over again. Your head swims with arousal, the scent and taste of them pushing you closer and closer with each passing second.

Logan is heavy on your tongue, leaking precum as you swallow around him, tongue stroking over veins as you bob your head up and down.

Wade is moaning below you, clutching and pulling at you, each snap of your hips against him making him leak against his stomach.

Your own cock is leaking inside Wade, your precum mixing beautifully with his slick. You can feel that you’re close, so close. You need your mouth back on Wade, but you also need Logan in it. You groan around him, making your throat vibrate around his cock in your throat. One of your hands moves to grasp at his cock, pumping it as you suckle on his head.

A barely there graze of your teeth on your next suck is what sends him over the edge. His hands are in your hair, but he doesn’t push as you drink him down. 

Swallowing the last remnants of his cum, you shift your focus fully to Wade. Your hands push at his thighs, mouth going to his shoulder. This time it’s not a hickey you make, instead you mark him with your teeth as your canines grow and you bite down hard enough to taste blood. It explodes over your tongue, mixing with the taste of Logan’s cum in your mouth.

“ALPHA!” Wade yells as loudly as he comes all over your stomachs. It makes him tighten around you, and you feel your own orgasm coming. Your teeth let go of his shoulder, but you keep your mouth on him to lick over the quickly healing skin.

Your orgasm hits you hard, cum pumping into Wade with each move of your hips, which soon slows as you feel your knot expand, trapping you and Wade together. 

You catch your breath, panting against Wade’s neck, licking your lips as you take breaths, tasting the scent of sex in the air.

You start purring, rubbing your face against any part of Wade you can reach without jostling the two of you too much. He smells so much of you already, but you can’t help yourself. He lets out a breathless little laugh as he threads a hand through your hair, his other stroking over your back is slow motions.

“Good thing you’re clean shaven, or else I would have some serious beard burns.” You hum, feeling your brain turn a little clearer with every second that passes. You feel another hand join Wade’s on your back, and you look to your side, where Logan is sitting, legs stretched out and leaning on one hand while the other dances lightly over your sweaty skin. 

Mind a little bit more with you, you shift more onto your knees, and with some careful maneuvering, you manage to get you and Wade on your sides, your back pressing against one of Logan’s outstretched legs with Wade’s around your waist. The movement causes you both to let out a little moan, which makes you want to start purring again, but you don’t for the moment.

“How long will this last?” Logan asks from above you, hand moving from you back to your hair as Wade scratches both of his down your back now.

“My knot should go down in half an hour or so.” You lean forward to catch Wade’s lips in a brief kiss. “My ruts tend to last about three days.” You look up at Logan, eye flicking to his lips, which gets the message across. He leans down and places a light kiss on your lips. You can’t help the little content hum that slips out of you. Everyone is satisfied for the moment, and it’s really hard to not start purring again, but some part of you should actually try to talk a little now that you have your non-rut brain back for a little bit. But Wade beats you to it, of course.

“We are going to need to order so much takeaway, I’m guessing you don’t have a rut stash.” His hands knead into your shoulders, wonderful pressure that makes you sigh and close your eyes.

“I don’t, I wasn’t supposed to have another one for a few more months.” You feel your cheeks heat up at the admission, but should you really be embarrassed when this has been the outcome?

“Rut stash?” Another question from above you. Oh yeah, Logan doesn’t know this, though earlier it had sounded like Wade had at least tried to explain some aspects of all of this.

“Well, when one is fucking like rabbits, you use a lot of energy peanut, and that has to come from somewhere. A fuckton of food and water mostly.” Logan’s hand in your hair massages your scalp, between him and Wade’s motions you feel almost ready to fall asleep, so it’s with great effort that you open your eyes. You tilt your head back to look at Logan, licking your lips to gather your thoughts, somehow managing to stay focused even as Wade moves forward just enough to bury his nose against your throat.

“It’s normal to have a stash since ruts tend to be somewhat regular, just like heats, though they can be triggered. For example, an alpha’s omega going into heat.”

“Wade’s not in heat though?” Logan tilts his head and Wade chuckles against your skin.

“Which is why I thought it was you that triggered the rut first, but no, our alpha is just greedy.” Hearing Wade so casually and no longer in the moment referring to you as their alpha makes your heart beat faster, and your cock leak, which in turn makes Wade let out a little satisfied groan as he clenches down on your knot. Which makes you moan again.

“It’s like a feedback loop.” Logan mutters above you, looking down to where you are trapped inside Wade, and will be for a while.

“Better to do it from behind normally, easier to spoon.” Wade says, a little breathlessly as he clenches down on you with purpose, making you growl a warning. He chuckles, booping your nose.

Logan is still looking down at where you are joined, which Wade takes notice of with a grin. So he can’t help but tease.

“Think you could take it? You might need a little more prep but…” Wade lets the words hang in the air, making both you and Logan imagine it. 

Fuck, Logan on back or even on his knees, begging for your cock, begging for your knot? Knowing he would need more effort, more desperation? It makes your cock leak inside Wade, who’s breath hitches as he feels you, and then your breath hitches as you see Logan’s spent cock give a minute little twitch.

“Fuck, my beautiful little perverts.” Wade teases, making you roll your eyes, and Logan snorts out a little laugh.

“Pot calling the kettle.” Logan swats at Wade’s thigh, which makes him move, which in turn makes him clench around you again.

“Careful.” You grunt out, grabbing Logan’s hand. He grins down at you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

“No promises.” He lets go of your hand, you swat at his thigh in return.

“Go get us some water or something since we are stuck here. The two of you are going to be the death of me.” Logan rolls his eyes, but gets up anyway.

“Ohhh, that we can promise, pookie.” Wade grins, clenching around you on purpose again, making you grunt and Logan glance over his shoulder just before leaving the room.

You can hardly wait for whatever happens next.

[elainsgirl]

HELP, because im literally dead laughing.

Why did an anti say in the bonus chapter that azriel is only upset because of his brothers having mates and not him. they also mentioned he wanted elain to be his mate because his brothers got two sisters... so thats why he gets the third sister?? then they kept saying over and over he just wants a mate? but, the part that really made me laugh was "if he and elain got together and he found his mate, hE wOuLd lEaVe eLaIn, nO hEsiTaTioN. elAin wOuLd giVe uP hEr mAtE, bUt aZriEl wOulDnT. " do they hear themselves right now? WHAT ARE THEY EVEN READING, for real? they lack reading comprehension so bad!!

Hey anon 🫶

GA stans will never beat the allegations they don’t actually understand Azriel’s character outside of whatever they can twist for their ship.

If Azriel’s whole sadness simply stemmed from the fact he solely wanted a mate - his whole character arc surrounding the fact he believes he deserves and should have a mate, there was no need for Sjm to bring Elain into it. Elain wouldn’t have needed to even be mentioned in the bonus. Rhys theorised that Azriel was waiting for the bond to snap between him and Mor - THAT would have been the focus.

According to GA logic you’d get the same result. Azriel could have gone to Rhys and whined about how it wasn’t fair his brothers had mates & he didn’t, him wondering why the bond hasn’t snapped between him & Mor -> You get the same “Az only wants a mate!” Rhetoric that GA stans love to push. Gwynriel’s clearly must then believe Az is stupid and dumb. Why else would he complain over not having Elain as his mate when he knows you can only have one mating bond? Its useless. He knows elain cannot be his mate so why is he being counterproductive and wanting her to be his mate? He should still be pining and obsessing over Mor being his fated mate. It potrays Az as being illogical and childish - which ig is how GA stans show him as.

There was no need to mention Elain, the cauldron or pointing out the oddity it is to have 2/3 brothers mated to 2/3 sisters. There was no need to make Elriel attracted to each other. These are not complex romances. There is no multiple Lis or relationships. If Gwynriel is endgame- Elriel will not happen in any capacity. Yet Mass chose to include Elain. Chose to confirm that Elriel are attracted to each other, brought up the cauldron being wrong once again in the context of elucien.

“"if he and elain got together and he found his mate, hE wOuLd lEaVe eLaIn, nO hEsiTaTioN. elAin wOuLd giVe uP hEr mAtE, bUt aZriEl wOulDnT. "

What kind of Li would he be? That destroys Azriels character completely to the point of no redemption. Elain and him finally being together only for him to leave her bcs “Oh look! I have my mate now!” - Basically using Elain, discarding her the first chance he gets when his mate shows up ? The fact gwynriels genuinely believe this tells me they don’t understand Sjm’s way of writing her male Lis nor do they understand Azriel’s character- it literally makes him look superficial and fickle. Why would you want Azriel to be potrayed like that!? Its not giving romance. Its not giving sjm. This is what I expect your sterotypical misogynistic man to come up with. Men who do not care about women’s feelings. Men who see women as objects that they can use to fill the void before discarding them as if they meant nothing. Its so sad to see women coming up with these takes, Why would you want Elain to go through such heart break? Do they think Gwyn will find it romantic? Their twisted fanon Gwyn might but I’ll tell you now, If canon Gwyn ever found out Azriel broke another womans’ heart to be with her, she’d clock him in the face twice. Do they think Nesta/Feyre will Support or understand Azriel dumping their darling sister bcs “oh well he’s found his mate now so its all good” basically according to gwynriels, If Gwyn wasn’t his mate - she’d too be thrown away. The only reason Az would go after Gwyn is because she’s his mate - is this what they find romantic? Bcs it just gives me the ick. Thank God Mass would never do such a thing. Say what you want about Sjm; she values Love & choice, female empowerment & friendship above all else even a mating bond.

Gwynriels do not understand these characters and a good romance story, if this take is anything to go by. Everyone deserves better from the way GA/EL stans treat them.

This just makes me glad im on the right side of this ship war because most elriels will never ruin these characters for our ship. It also reaffirms my belief in elriel.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Pretty in pink

Another reason why I always knew Clairmy was never gonna be endgame.

This piece of meta has been sitting in my drafts for months. Since I watched S2 for the first time, back in January. After yesterday's teaser, I thought I just might dust it off and hang it out to dry in the sun, so here it is and actually, this is much better timing because I get to supplement it with more and newer meta I came up with later on.

So, the second I heard the first few tunes of the soundtrack I just knew.

The Bear | Pop | 02x05

Storer wasn't subtle.

I just knew that C was gonna end up with someone else, or just letting him go, and when I heard Carmy saying these words:

and they rang soooo untrue and unhinged and even forced or coaxed coming from him and in that context, so OOC, etc... I took it as all the confirmation I needed to firmly stand my anti-clairmy ground even before I got to know her.

It was obvious to me that that was not Carmen Berzatto talking, but The Bear Jr., the kid in HS who grew up isolated and under Michael's shadow.

He was coming from a place of complete and utter stuckness, a stagnant position he regressed to, the second his frustrated HS sweetheart won this battle:

He wasn't necessarily lying when he said he liked her, at least not consciously:

But the TENSE was the problem. He said "I like you so much" when it was the HS stuttery kid the one talking, the one who wished SHE talked to him more, so he didn't have to because he was too shy. He should have said liked if he was being honest with himself and her.

He should have told her something along the lines of: "I had a crush on you in HS, and when you came onto me, I choked. This is so not the right timing for me to do this because I'm tied up with the restaurant, and I just... instead of telling you all of that, I took the easy and cowardly way out and gave you the wrong number. Sorry."

BTW, that's a pattern he will have to outgrow because of Syd if he doesn't wanna lose her. He will have to start telling the woman he loves in proper timing how he feels and why and do the chasing if he must because Syd, unlike C, is NOT A CHASER, she's a walker (pattern she will have to outgrow herself too, as I mentioned → here). No more room for the shy kid, he's gonna have to man up in S4.

After delivering those lines that to me were OOC and plain blatant, he turned into Logan to fit in the party and in C's life (or make her fit into his, whatever).

So, my point is that when I heard the Pretty in Pink soundtrack I immediately drew these parallels:

Duckie is Carmy and Andy is the C person. IDGAF who was gonna play Blane, I assumed that character was gonna be introduced to us later in the series, or not at all. But Andie and Duckie do not end up together because they are not right for each other even though they grew up together. They are just not right for each other because coming from the same place doesn't determine shit in life, the choices you make do. In the movie, they didn't choose each other. PerioT. That was a hell of a musical foreshadowing and I thank the sadist for it because the second I associated that musical piece of data with ep 01x03 I was like: “OK, how much more obvious can you be, Storer? Really? Try harder, please.”

Because why would he give Molly Ringwald such important lines in S1 if Pretty in Pink was not a huge lead we needed to follow in S2 when the same plot of one of her biggest hits made a cameo on the show, right?

So, anyway... I always knew these 2 were endgame:

Waayyyy before Syd said it. Actually, Syd didn't say it bc we don't know who she was talking about, it was STORER who did that in the teaser, HE IS THE ONE WHO SYNCS UP THE MUSIC WITH THE FRAMES OR SIGNS OFF ON WHAT THE EDITORS SYNC UP AS PER HIS REQUEST AND HE'S THE ONE WHO DECIDES WHO ARE ENDGAME ON HIS SHOW. So it's Storer who yesterday told us Pretty in Pink doesn't get the guy, which was pretty obvious, if you ask me :)

Bonus track: Syd is his redemption plot. Syd is his endgame, sure, but first, he has to grow up to be the man he can be as opposed to the bear he is. I always said his whole redemption arc is Kierkegaardian:

And he even looks like him, c'mon!

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[guardian-of-da-gay]

Yall should take all my Knuckles Wachowski angst hc/fics with a grain of 'I once read a fic where the mc was severely traumatized and at one point got triggered and hid himself away in a bathroom where the character that was helping him couldn't get to him and in the morning he emerged, trying his best to pretend it never happened and the character reflected that 'whatever demons he'd faced, he'd faced them alone' and it altered my brain chemistry'

[just-someone-online]

Lowkey, I think one of my favorite little things about Rescue Bots is how we get to learn a little more about Optimus when he shows up. Like, not war stuff or Orion Pax stuff, but just little things about Optimus.

One of his favorite Earth stories is The Little Engine That Could. Does he read in his spare time and if so, how did he find Little Engine?

He tells Heatwave that he has also been learning from humans. What has he learned? The phrase "Nothing much, double dutch." Who the fuck taught him that? My money's on Miko. Jack would not have the audacity to add that to Prime's vernacular.

He has a motherfuckin' rocket powered car carrier capable of hauling four bots. And since Team Prime had four four-wheelers on the team prior to Darkness Rising, you could reasonably assume that he has used it with Cliff, Bee, Bulk, and Ratch

Optimus knows what a pogo stick is. That isn't anything noteworthy, I just think it's funny.

[goldentigerfestival]

So. I love this. The way Yuri snickers at Flynn showing his real self. The way he, without hesitation, says "yeah" to the idea that he would die in Flynn's place.

But the most important part of this entire thing, which was changed in the dub, is how Yuri specifically jokes that Flynn is trying to abandon him, and Flynn returns and tells Don he had no intention of abandoning Yuri.

Yuri does not hear this. Flynn knows that. But Flynn uses the exact same term Yuri used earlier, as if it's his answer to Yuri and saying no, I would never abandon you.

For reference:

Personally I just... love the weight of it. How Flynn will say something about Yuri that Yuri won't hear, but he still speaks it out into existence because it's how he really feels.

Just because Yuri won't hear it doesn't mean he won't say it, and in a way that's even more powerful. He's not looking for the credit of saying it. He's not looking to be recognized for saying it. He's not only expressing how he feels about Yuri somewhere that Yuri himself will hear him.

They're just his real, honest feelings, and he'll admit them even if Yuri's not within earshot.

[fiapple]

i'm getting towards the end of the skypeia arc, & i'd like to say just how much i adore the way the female strawhats have been treated.

just... every aspect of how the way their characters have been previously contextualized influences the story-line is treated with a masterful amount of consideration. we're given so many layers to both of them that enrich not only their characters specifically, but the arc, and the one piece world as a whole. without nami & robin having their specific skills, and their specific values, without those being built upon, the story would have come to a halt.

you could not have skypeia without nami & robin being who they are as individuals. not just because they never would've gotten there without nami, but also because the way these women think is itself foundational to the machinations of the arc as a whole.

to be totally upfront, if you think any other strawhats were more central to the skypeia arc than nami & robin were you are full-on fucking lying to yourself.

[bylertruther]

yk. the resistance ppl have to so much as considering the idea that mike might not jump to immediately and enthusiastically engaging in obvious n indisputably gay shit with will publicly is kinda funny in a puzzling way when season three and season four, where he does exactly that the entire way through, are literally right there for us all to watch on netflix.com. like. Okay ❤️

[astranauticus]

stultifera navis rerun AKA thinking about Iberia hours again because a lot of the Iberians have such fascinating relationships with the concept of home but specifically Thorns and Lumen are eating at my brain. like where do you call home when the place that is your home Just Fucking Hates You? Elysium's rewinding breeze specifically makes a point to hammers home how differently Iberia treats its Liberi and its Aegir

(which is especially interesting since this comes right after a conversation where Purestream commented on how despite Leizi being a high ranking government official, there are still some experiences that are universal for all Yanese people - because the experience of what Iberia itself is like isnt universal for all Iberians)

But all that being said, Thorns also straight up states that Aegir is not his home, and yeah, how could it be? How could a place you've never been to, never truly known, ever be your home? How could it ever feel like a home?

so where do you go when the place that you are from hates your people and the place your people are from is completely unfamiliar and alien to you? Thorns' answer at the end of the conversation with Aya is: my home is where i chose it to be. my home is where there are people I care about and people who care about me

in the complete opposite direction, Lumen's oprec asks: why do you still stay in a place that wants you gone? because the people of Gran Faro like Jordi well enough but when push comes to shove, they will want the only Aegir in town gone

and yet, when Rald the messenger offers him a chance to leave Jordi turns him down and when he's forced to escape Gran Faro after the people there literally try to send him to his death (or worse) at the hands of the Inquisitors he keeps trying to go back because like everyone in stultifera navis, Jordi is clinging to his own dreams of a golden age

but the shape of that dream is unique to every character and for Jordi, his dreams are deeply, inseparably bound to the Eye of Iberia, the legacy his parents left behind

and it's this dream of becoming someone great, of bringing about that golden age that his parents devoted their lives to help create that ties Jordi to this nothing town because despite everything, despite the mistrust of the townsfolk and the hostility of the Inquisition and the danger from the ocean, he simply cannot leave it behind

(or, because i personally dislike the official translation,)

"I just see this place as my home"

so yeah. not sure what overall point i was trying to make here i'm just. deeply in love with these stories about chosing what is and isn't your home, of saying you will not call a place your home because it has given you no reason to or saying you consider a place your home even though it has given you every reason not to. deeply unwell about them <3