#this is the franchise i have chosen to love

[beaureveries]

ONE SHOT : YOU OVER ANYONE

Dallas Wings paige x Golden State Valkyries azzi

trigger : language, a lil angst and protective P

I loved writing this one!

——————————————————————————

It was already the kind of game people would talk about for weeks.

Dallas Wings vs Golden State Valkyries

Bueckers vs Fudd.

The headlines wrote themselves.

Paige wasn’t some rookie sensation anymore. She’d done the rising-star thing, the viral highlights, the postgame interviews with practiced smirks. This was her league now. Her team. Her house.

And the Valkyries had the audacity to bring Azzi into it.

It was a battle from tip-off. Neither of them let up. Paige running the show—orchestrating plays, sharp passes, occasional kill shots from three. Azzi… well. She was Azzi. Moving like poetry, jumper pure, soft flick of the wrist, making defenders bite on fakes like she’d choreographed it herself.

They didn’t talk. Didn’t have to. The game was the conversation.

But somewhere in the middle of the third, it stopped being fun.

Because Azzi caught fire. Everything falling. Thirty points deep by the time they hit overtime. And the home crowd? They were starting to shift. Cheering for good basketball, even if it was by the other team’s hand.

And Arike? Paige saw it boiling under the surface—that look. Competitive, sharp, but frustrated. Her shots weren’t landing. The attention wasn’t on her. It was on Azzi.

Paige clocked it early but didn’t have time to manage it. Overtime was already here. Legs aching, the crowd standing, the noise of playoff-level tension building in her throat.

Then it happened.

Azzi caught a swing pass on the wing. Routine. Normal. One dribble to gather, ready to pull another midrange fade she’d been hitting all game—

CRASH.

Arike. Full speed, shoulder first. Bodying through like she was tackling someone instead of contesting a shot. The contact sent Azzi sideways, her foot catching wrong, ankle bending, skin hitting hardwood with a sharp slap.

Whistle. Foul.

Azzi curled slightly around her ankle, breathing sharp through her nose, trying not to show it but—Paige knew.

The noise of the crowd blurred into a low hum for Paige. Everything else—the ref’s whistle, the footsteps, the announcer in her ear—all gone.

Her legs moved before her brain did. She was across the court in three strides, ignoring her bench, ignoring her coach, ignoring everything but the girl curled around her ankle like she was trying not to show how bad it was.

“You good?” Paige’s voice was soft, but it cut like glass.

Azzi nodded, jaw clenched. “Yeah.. I’m good.”

She wasn’t. Paige could see it in the way her hand trembled slightly on her knee. Could see it in the way she wasn’t looking at anyone but her.

And then came Arike’s voice.

“Yo, my bad—I wasn’t trying to do that,” Arike said, breathless, arms out, frustrated but not apologetic enough.

Paige didn’t even look at her. Not yet.

“It’s overtime,” Arike said quickly, like that explained everything. “I’m just trying to make us win, alright? You know how this goes.”

Paige finally stood up, slow. Real slow. Shoulders square. Face blank.

“Arike.”

That’s all she said.

But everyone felt it.

Paige didn’t care that Arike had years on her. Didn’t matter that she was a vet, a star, a face of the franchise before Paige ever touched a W jersey. Right now? None of that mattered.

Not when it came to Azzi. Paige didn’t care if she burned every bridge in that arena. Respect was earned—but loyalty was chosen.

And Azzi?

Azzi was always the choice.

Paige met her teammate’s eyes—ice cold, controlled rage simmering just under the surface.

“You don’t put her on the floor.”

Arike tried to continue to defend herself . “Paige—

“You don’t touch her.” Paige cut in, sharper now. “Not like that. Not on accident. Not in the heat of the moment. Not ever.”

Silence.

The ref was waiting to hand Azzi the ball for free throws. The crowd could sense something happening that wasn’t part of the game plan.

Azzi shifted, tugging at Paige’s jersey from the floor, voice soft. “P…”

But Paige wasn’t listening to anyone but her own pulse hammering behind her ribs.

She didn’t care about team meetings. Didn’t care about what the coaching staff would say later. Didn’t care that she was in front of thousands, on live TV, standing against her own squad.

She’d choose Azzi every single time.

And that was the part nobody understood yet.

——————————————————————————

The horn blared, Dallas winning by six in overtime, the whole arena on its feet. Teammates threw their hands up, coaches shouted, fans screamed—

And Paige didn’t move.

Didn’t join the team huddle. Didn’t even look toward the bench.

She was already locked in on the other sideline.

Azzi was sitting stiff at the end of the Valkyries’ bench, trainers crouched in front of her, unlacing her shoe, checking her ankle, tension written across her whole face.

Paige was already walking. Straight across the court. Straight past the handshake line. Like gravity had shifted and Azzi was the only center left in the world.

“She’s going,” Dijonai muttered behind her, not surprised, just resigned, adjusting her jersey as she jogged toward the handshake line. “Let her.”

Arike didn’t say a word—jaw tight, frustration simmering with something that looked like guilt—but she didn’t stop her, either.

None of them did.

They knew.

Azzi looked up just as Paige crouched in front of her, blocking the noise, the cameras, the world.

“I’m fine,” Azzi said immediately, too fast, too automatic, like she didn’t believe it herself.

“Don’t lie to me” Paige said, voice steady, low, just for her.

The cameras zoomed in, catching the moment like sharks circling, but none of them mattered—not here, not now.

One of the Valkyries’ rookies shifted awkwardly, glancing at the trainers. Someone from Dallas glanced toward Paige like we should probably keep it moving, but Lyss was already sliding over, planting herself right in the camera’s path like a bodyguard. Subtle. On purpose.

They didn’t owe anyone explanations.

“You’re wild for this,” Dijonai whispered as she passed by, but it wasn’t angry—it was almost fond. They knew. Paige might’ve been cold-blooded on the court, but with her? Soft every time.

Paige touched Azzi’s knee gently, grounding her. “I’ve got you. You hear me?”

Azzi nodded, blinking fast, fighting the sting behind her eyes.

Another call came from the Dallas sideline: “P! Let’s go!”

Paige stood, slow, gave Azzi’s leg one last squeeze.

“I’ll see you after okay?” Paige reassured Azzi who gave a slow nod.

Paige slowly walked back to her team, Dijonai smirked as they fell into step. “Messy.”

Paige didn’t even flinch. “Necessary.”

No one argued.

Paige didn’t wait for the media. Didn’t wait for the locker room debrief. Didn’t wait for coaches. As soon as she was out of uniform, she was gone—cutting through the back tunnels of the arena like she owned the place.

By the time she found the Valkyries’ hallway, her heart was pounding harder than it had during overtime.

Azzi was sitting on a folding chair just outside their locker room, leg up, ankle wrapped, scrolling through her phone like she was fine.

She wasn’t fine.

She looked up the second she heard footsteps, like she knew it was Paige before she even saw her.

Paige stopped in front of her, jaw tight. “You should be in there. With ice. With trainers. With—”

“Relax,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes but not meaning it. “I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that, and you keep lying.”

Azzi sighed, phone dropping into her lap. “P…”

“No.” Paige ran a hand through her hair, frustrated—not angry at Azzi, just… everything. “Do you know what that looked like from my angle? Do you know how bad that could’ve been?”

“It wasn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Azzi didn’t say anything. Paige took a breath, sharp and shaky, like she was actively trying to keep it together.

“For a second I thought you were gonna stay down,” Paige admitted quietly, eyes flicking to the floor. “Like really stay down.”

That hit harder than Azzi wanted it to. The annoyance cracked into something softer, guiltier.

“I didn’t expect you to do that,” Azzi said finally, voice lower now, honest. “In front of everyone.”

Paige didn’t move. Just stared at her like of course I did.

“I didn’t care,” Paige said simply, steady.

“I know you didn’t,” Azzi whispered. She looked down at her wrapped ankle, then back up, her gaze soft now, but serious. “And I’m not gonna sit here and act like that didn’t—mean something to me. ’Cause it did.”

Paige blinked, caught off guard by the softness in Azzi’s voice.

“But,” Azzi added, eyes narrowing just a little, “I need you to promise me you won’t pull reckless stunts like that again. Not like that. Not storming across the whole court with cameras in your face, throwing your whole career at risk.”

Silence.

“I get it,” Azzi continued, softer now. “I really do. And it’s not that I don’t want you fighting for me.”

“I just—I don’t want you getting caught in the wreckage when I’m the one who took the hit.”

Paige’s throat worked around the lump building there. She didn’t trust herself to say anything yet.

“I’m not saying don’t care,” Azzi added, voice gentle now, like she knew Paige too well, like she could feel how tense she was. “You care. That’s why I…” She trailed off for a second, then smiled faintly. “That’s why I love you, dummy.”

The word hit Paige’s chest like a clean shot to the ribs.

“But I don’t need you losing your head and blowing up your whole image for me, alright?” Azzi finished, steady but still soft. “Be mad. Be protective. Just be smart about it.”

Paige let out a slow, heavy breath, nodding once, eyes finally meeting hers again. “You’re asking a lot.”

“I know,” Azzi said, lips twitching into that tiny, infuriating smile. “That’s the risk you took falling for me.”

Paige let out a sharp exhale—half-laugh, half-sigh—running a frustrated hand through her hair again. “God, you’re annoying.”

“Unfortunately for you,” Azzi teased, hand curling gently around Paige’s hoodie sleeve, “you’re stuck with me.”

Paige looked at her for a beat, tension finally unraveling into something tender beneath it all. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I’m stuck.”

Azzi tugged on the sleeve, coaxing her forward, until Paige leaned in closer, their foreheads resting together like they’d done this a thousand times before. Familiar. Necessary.

“I mean it,” Azzi whispered. “Next time, pause. Just for a second. Think.”

Paige nodded slowly. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t heavy anymore. It was steady. Safe.

“I really scared you, huh?” Azzi finally whispered, thumb brushing absent over Paige’s wrist.

Paige closed her eyes. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Azzi smiled, soft and real. “Deal. If you promise not to get ejected for fighting next time.”

Paige cracked a smile too. “No promises.”

Azzi laughed, and for the first time since that hit, Paige actually let herself breathe.

They were gonna be alright.

——————————————————————————

The cool night air was thick with leftover adrenaline as Paige helped Azzi through the tunnel exit, her hand steady on Azzi’s lower back like muscle memory.

Neither of them were talking much—Paige still too wired from the game, from the hit, from everything. Azzi letting her be.

But as soon as they turned the corner, there she was Arike—leaning against the concrete wall, hoodie up, arms crossed, waiting like she’d been there for a minute.

Paige stopped on instinct, her body going tense, but Azzi didn’t miss the way Arike looked… different. Not defensive. Not proud. Just… regretful.

Arike glanced at Azzi first. “Yo.”

Azzi blinked, surprised. “Hey.”

Arike pushed off the wall slowly, lifting both hands in front of her like I’m not here for drama. “I was waiting. Just… wanted to say something.”

Paige’s arm tensed around Azzi’s waist, but she didn’t say a word yet. She just watched.

Arike sighed through her nose. “I was outta pocket. Overtime, emotions running high, stupid play. I shouldn’t have come at you like that, especially knowing who you are to P.” Her eyes flicked to Paige for a second, then back to Azzi. “That’s on me.”

Azzi nodded, letting the words sit for a beat. “I appreciate that. Seriously.”

Arike shook her head, frustrated at herself. “You didn’t deserve that. I let the game get ahead of me.”

Finally, Paige spoke, softer than before. “You didn’t have to wait out here.”

Arike glanced at her again, something like guilt flickering behind her eyes. “Nah. I did. ’Cause I needed you to know—I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I got caught up. And I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Paige exhaled, tension in her jaw easing slightly. “You’re better than that.”

“I know,” Arike admitted. “Won’t happen again.”

It wasn’t defensive. It wasn’t for show. It was real.

Paige nodded once. “Alright.”

Another pause.

“I didn’t mean to mess things up,” Arike added, quieter now. “We’re all on the same side. Just didn’t play like it tonight.”

That was the thing about Arike—confident, loud, relentless on the court—but she could own her mistakes too. And right now, Paige could see it plain as day: she felt bad. Not just for Azzi—but for putting Paige in that spot.

Paige ran a hand down her face, the fight draining out of her chest. “You know I got her.”

Arike smiled faintly. “Would’ve been worried if you didn’t.”

That finally cracked a small smile from Paige too. Brief, but it was there.

Azzi leaned into Paige slightly, feeling the tension break around them like something brittle finally giving way.

“We’re good?” Arike asked, looking mostly at Paige now.

Paige nodded, steady this time. “We’re good.”

Arike nodded back. “Safe travels, Azzi. I’ll catch you around.”

With that, Arike headed back toward the Wings locker room, shoulders loose, guilt left behind, respect intact.

As soon as she disappeared, Azzi glanced up at Paige, teasing. “Look at you, Miss standing on business.”

Paige rolled her eyes, smiling now for real. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

Azzi bumped her hip gently into Paige’s. “I like it.”

Paige wrapped her arm around her waist again, guiding her toward the car. “Only for you.”

Azzi grinned. “Lucky me.”

[beautyofsorrow]

live from hour 6 of spreadsheeting please look at this bonkers line-up:

we start off with the absolute banger of

we (consensually) put your wife's unborn baby inside your coworker, wow hope That's not weird!!; meanwhile, local bar owner thinks he's dying and hires tailor to assassinate him

then progress to

queer-coded goo man kicked out of parents' home for murder, banished to life among solids (again) this time AS a solid

riverdale levels of cartoon villain steals ship, banishes crew to life of roughing it on a monster-infested planet

everyone's going undercover as klingons because war

TRAUMA

captain must atone for over-curious crewmember's admittedly not-great trespassing with strange rituals or she dies

The One Where Leslie Jordan Plays A Ferengi

The One Where We Learn Tuvok Served On Sulu's Ship

TRAUMA (homoerotic)

b'elanna sex dreams episode turns into b'elanna war crimes dreams

ship's doctor has well-earned nervous breakdown

worf and dax fuck nasty in the holosuite and so do quark and that klingon lady he married back in season 3

jake learns about war

keiko comes back from vacation possessed by a demon, o'brien must sabotage the station Or Else

teehee time travel

teehee time travel (sarah silverman and ed begley jr guest star edition)

dax swim suit episode aka worf killed a kid playing soccer once and has trauma about it and for some reason we're getting this lore while they're vacationing oN THE SEX PLANET and oh yeah apparently dax's previous host was literally fucked to death upon request

odo war crimes episode

kes is possessed (again)

teehee time travel (now with borg)

"what are you doing with your thursday night" well you see i couldn't decide on a piece of star trek media to watch because i have AUTISM and ITS A LOT OF EFFORT TO ENGAGE WITH MY SPECIAL INTEREST when it's NINE HUNDRED EPISODES AND THIRTEEN MOVIES LONG but if i DONT ENGAGE WITH IT i START TO CLIMB THE WALLS so i decided i needed a syllabus to tell me what to watch each night and anyway [checks clock] that's how i spent two hours tracking down and transcribing an in-universe chronological viewing guide to star trek

i've been typing for 45 minutes

i just now got to tng

[hyakunana]

Encounter V — Reverse Boost

+

[kohakhearts]

hey that pokemon 2000 gifset + your jn dub analysis made me think about the pokemon 2000 dub - I've only seen it subbed once (compared to the hundred times I watched it dubbed as a child) so I could be misremembering, but didn't the dub completely change the themes of the movie with the chosen one ash thing?

i actually haven’t watched the sub nearly as many as times as the dub either :p but i have read extensively about this topic bc it’s personally my favourite pokemon movie and yes! the first and second pokemon movies are both victim to this (like mewtwo’s epic speech we all love so much at the end of the first movie…being a complete fabrication by the dub team :p you gotta give those writers credit - they were VERY good at what they did), largely i’m guessing due to cultural values and expectations. since they were trying to sell the anime to an american audience, not a japanese one.

tangentially, i will say i also think that’s the root of this like…subtle distinction some people have between the characters “ash” and “satoshi.” i don’t differentiate them in any big way myself because fundamentally they still are very much the same, but it is true that in japanese, ash has somewhat different mannerisms and responds differently to events at times, especially in the early anime when it was so much easier to get away with making big changes for…a big assortment of reasons haha.

in THIS movie in particular, some of those things are like…well. the prophecy is probably the most obvious change. the dub team rewrote it to include the chosen one reference, which works great because of the word play on ash’s name. in japanese, it just says “an exceptional trainer will appear to help calm the wrath of the gods.” ash’s response to this is more mild trepidation than outright fear. he doesn’t hesitate like he does in the dub. and tbh? both reactions make perfect sense for his character in my opinion.

in japanese, his concern is more "do you really think i can fit that role?" this...tracks pretty well with his character development by this point. like yeah he said he could win the indigo league, but he's also thinking about dropping out after gary loses; it's that little grain of insecurity he has, which he's normally good at covering up with arrogance (a lot of which is also very genuine, don't get me wrong). but he sees the opportunity to help and he takes it. that's just...what ash does.

in english, though, the prophecy is pretty clearly about him. there's no one else it could be. it has to be him. and he...doesn't like that? that scares him. which, fair. anyone would be terrified by being singled out like that. it's also so much...not ash's thing, even at this point in the series. his character development is about embracing having to work hard to do well. to keep trying until you get it right, no matter how many times you get it wrong. the idea of being a "chosen one" completely robs him of his ability to be so single-minded about what he wants his destiny to be that it manifests as pre-determined; it just...pre-determines it for him, if that makes sense. lol.

the thesis of the japanese version of the film is that no one person or pokemon can stand on their own. everyone needs help. it's about harmonizing with each other and with nature. about letting others help you, and helping them in turn. the english version rewrites that into a story about power and destiny. the title alone says it all, right? it's called "the power of one" - no reference to lugia, no reference to the birds. in japan, the title is about the revelation (or "birth") of lugia.

westerners love a good chosen one story, so this was a really good choice by the dub team in that respect. i mean, it's a narrative that's stuck really well. fandom loves chosen one ash! in general, western fanbases are really into this narrative. it's everywhere. and there's a lot that goes into that, culturally, and especially religiously, historically, etc. so at the end of the day, i don't think the change is so much about conflicting ideas about collectivism and individualism. it's more about goals and ideals, on a personal level.

let me say again for the 273456784th time, i love that they resolved ash's story by having him realize that the goal he's really been striving for all this time is to meet and befriend pokemon. to learn from them. to earn their trust. it's like...he did the thing that everyone else thought represented his goal, maybe even himself included, only to realize that his dream was never about the end of it anyway. it was about everything he learnt and everyone he met along the way. (i also suspect nobody writing in 1997 knew that that would be the ultimate resolution, either. but it makes sense in the entire context. it's kind of a nice irony, even. to only figure it out after writing the story :p)

and i think this little distinction is important to that goal! it's his whole character! which is why even though i too love chosen one characters, i don't necessarily think of ash as one. because even if he is, his whole Thing is that he wants to try. a lot of the chosen one narrative is about characters being reluctant to be used for a "greater good," or about them collapsing under that pressure. ash doesn't really have that. he does what he thinks is right because he...thinks it's right. sometimes, sure, others have to push him into it a bit, but usually they're actually pushing the other way - it's too dangerous, you're going to get hurt, etc. and to me, i don't know - thinking of times he's died, or nearly died, and some legendary or mythical pokemon has saved him at the last minute...i don't think that has to mean he's special in a cosmic sort of way. i think it just means he's special to them. that he did something for them, or for someone else they had come to care for (thinking manaphy responding to may's emotions, not just to the fact that ash was drowning, or in mpm ash convincing latios to trust him because of their mutual desire to save latias, etc.), and so they want to help him. which is completely opposite to the typical chosen one narrative, i think? because he doesn't do those things out of obligation...he does them because he thinks he can become a better trainer by doing them, and he wants to do that. and well. he did do that.

anyway my tl;dr here is YES they changed the theme a lot haha, but i find it fun that they also changed the characters’ responses to that theme. funnily that’s…kind of also what fanfiction writers do all the time, lmao, but that’s a whole other conversation.

[sublimati0ns]

daily koss #29: if we only have one shot… better make it count, right?

Since I started on the 18th of February, today marks the one month anniversary of me drawing these wretched old men every day!!! I wanted to make something special for it, so I tried my hand at a comic (even though I am NOT good at comics—dear god, paneling is so unintuitive for me that I ended up wrangling this into a webtoon format just to avoid it).

Despite the increasing level of render and polish on my dailies over the past two weeks, this is the first time I’ve really, actually tried to flex my art muscles and apply my braincells to a piece 😂 Here’s to hoping my work paid off! I have now, officially, moved from low-effort shitposts to real-effort seriousposts 😔

(Also, if you’ve never read a webtoon before, hopefully the long-scroll format wasn’t too jarring! >_<)

A meta aspect I love about KOSS is that Transformers is a multi-timeline franchise: Knock Out and Starscream exist across multiple different continuities, sometimes alongside each other, sometimes not. But they only really ‘work’ in TFP, despite them both having other characters as constants (Breakdown, Megatron). If this were any other world, and they were any other versions of themselves, they might not even have been coworkers—just ships passing in the night.

And yet, the perfect storm of random events led to them being in one thing together, with a compelling dynamic at that (even an entire episode that puts it on blast!!!). Sometimes I think about how, according to the TFP artbook, Knock Out was originally conceived as something of a counterpart to Bumblebee—another fast, pretty car, except a villain this time—but the writers ended up fleshing out his relationship with Starscream the most. I wonder what the thought process behind that was—did the devs find their dynamic fun to play with as well?—and whether the two would get more moments together if Prime wasn’t cancelled…

But I digress! The fact I discovered TFP in the first place is the cherry on top of the serendipity-cake; I never imagined I’d ever get into Transformers, but one impulsive ‘hey, what if we watched the new Transformers movie’ from Lacuna at 3AM in the dead of January changed the trajectory of my life.

I’ve always been really bad at committing to projects for over a month at a time—I often find myself burnt out and restless after only a few days, even. So to still have so much drive and inspiration to create fanworks—for KOSS, of course, but an assortment of other pairings and properties too—is such a novel and exciting experience. My tune may change at a moment’s notice (I can be very fickle), but for now I’m eager to keep scribbling on 🥰I already have something planned for the next week of Daily KOSS hehehe~

Anyway, things referenced in the comic!

G1 cartoon s01e13 “Fire in the Sky”

2019 IDW continuity Tread & Circuits issues 2, 3, and 4

Armada episode 48

TFA s02e03 “Mission Accomplished” and s03e13 “Endgame II”

2005 IDW continuity “Choose Me,” Spotlight: Megatron, and Annual 2017 “Chosen One”

And it’s probably obvious from the art, but I love the juxtaposition of Starscream being tortured by god in every other universe while Knock Out is either happily married or doesn’t exist.

[thirdsaltyhunter]

If I Catch You

Dean Winchester x female!Reader

Summary: Dean chasing you through the halls of the bunker in a ghostface mask, what more do you need

Warning: SMUT, if I catch you I f*ck you trope, mask k*nk, choking, praise, edging, manhandling

A/N: did I forget to post this yesterday cause I was to busy partying... yes but hopefully you'll enjoy this enough to forgive me

You had always loved Halloween even despite being a hunter. It brought back the happy memories from your childhood, when there were no worries, the monsters were only people in masks and the good guys always won at the end of every scary movie. Dean shared your appreciation for the holiday. Even before you and him started dating, you would often spend Halloween nights curled up on motel beds, watching horror marathons with all the snacks and sugar you could handle. Sam on the other hand didn't see the appeal. Sometimes he would join you in your movie watching, but it was mostly to appease you and avoid ridicule from Dean.

This year you and your boyfriend had the bunker all to yourself. Sam had chosen to spend the night with Eileen and leave the two of you to your festivities.

The empty bunker allowed the perfect opportunity for you and Dean to play out a fantasy that you had talked about a few nights before, when you were cuddled up bingeing the Scream franchise.

"Ghostface is hot," you blurted randomly in the middle of the movie. You mostly said this to see his reaction, but there was a hint of truth to your statement.

"Why?" he said in utter confusion. He paused the movie and looked down at you in his arms.

You shrugged. "I don't know masked men are just hot."

"Masked men?" he tried to hide the hint of amusement.

"Oh yeah, it's a real popular thing now. I can show you all the thirst trap videos."

"Yeah I don't need to see that."

You laughed at his look of disgust before he continued.

"So what your saying is that I need to get a Ghostface mask, hm?" he said with a smirk.

"I mean I wouldn't mind, have you chase me through the halls in it." You tilted your head back to face him, your lips almost touching.

"What happens when I catch you?", he asked with a devious smile, his hold on you tightening slightly.

"You'll have to find out," you responded, your voice sultry and teasing.

"I think that can be arranged."

One costume store purchase later and you found yourself in only a set of sexy underwear, standing in the empty hallway. The concrete floor was cool under your bare feet, but your racing pulse kept you from being cold.

Dean had given you a head start before he would try to come and find you. Your excitement was growing. He wasn't going to chase you, if it came down to a sprint race, Dean would win every time. No, he was going to hunt you. You knew this made the game more even, but you also knew that he was crafty and smart. Though in all honesty you wanted to be caught, you were just going to be a little tease before you let him find you.

You had just rounded the corner by the kitchen, when the power went out, causing the bunker's red emergency lights to come on.

Nice touch, you thought.

You heard his voice echo through the hall, signaling that he was coming to find you. Your adrenaline was pumping. Not out of fear, you knew Dean would never hurt you, but out of anticipation for what would happen when he found you.

You slipped into kitchen looking for a spot to hide. Unsatisfied with the spots, you head to the library. You hid in the far corner behind one of the shelves and waited. You listened for his footsteps but heard nothing, years of hunting had trained him to be light on his feet. When you finally heard his voice call your name he was much closer than you expected. He purposefully stepped heavy coming up the stairs from the War Room, his boots thudding against the stone.

You took the opportunity to dart out the door in the back of the library. The bookcase blocked you from his view, but he definitely heard the door shut. You bolted down the back hall, heart pounding as you rounded the corner just as the door opened behind you.

Quietly you slipped into one of the bedrooms and hid under the bed. You listened until his footsteps passed the door and went down the hall. Crawling out from your hiding spot, you checked to make sure the hall was empty before sprinting the opposite direction.

As you ran past the next hall you saw him rounding the other end. You picked up the pace, knowing he had seen you. You turned the next corner and stopped, pressing your back against the cool tile wall to catch your breath. When you decided the coast was clear you went to move to the next hall, when an arm wrapped around your middle, you back pinned to his chest.

You tried to wriggle from his grasp just making it free when you stumbled. You caught yourself, but his hand caught your ankle dragging you across the polished concrete floor and pulling you under him.

He rolled you over and you came face to face with the black eyes and long mouth of the mask, illuminated by the red glow of the lights. This was the first time you had actually seen him in the mask and it was even hotter than you imagined. When he pinned your hands above your head you knew you weren't getting away.

"Gotcha," he growled.

"What are you going to do with me now?" you said through panting breaths, partially from running, partially from how incredibly turned on you were right now.

"You'll have to find out," he responded before using one hand to pull his belt from his jean and loop it around your wrists.

Ok that was hot.

When your hands were secured, he stood up scooping you up off the floor and tossing you over his shoulder, delivering a quick smack to your ass before walking toward your shared bedroom. It wasn't often that he manhandled you like this and you were loving every second of it.

When you got to the bedroom, he tossed you onto the bed and straddled your legs. He hooked two fingers into the belt around your wrists.

"You want this to stay on?" he asked.

You nodded eagerly. Even being dominant and aggressive, he never wanted to push you limits, solely focused on giving you what you wanted.

"Stay," he ordered, getting up from the bed to strip down to his boxers, leaving the mask in place.

You watched him with lust blown eyes, your chest still rising and falling rapidly as you admired his body. He moved to the end of the bed, grabbing your ankle and pulling you to the end. Your underwear was pulled down your legs and tossed over his shoulder. He wrapped you legs around his hips and you could feel his clothed erection. You moaned grinding down on him until his arm crossed you hips, holding you still.

He ran two finger through your slick. '"So wet for me. Is this just from me chasing you?"

You nodded again.

He lowered to his knee, his masked face coming level with your dripping cunt. Two of his fingers dipped into you, immediately curling into the spot that made your back arch and your knees weak. Your head fell back letting the pleasure wash over you.

From the box under the bed, he pulled out your vibrator. He planned to torture you tonight.

"Don't cum until I'm inside you. Do you understand me?" he said turning the toy to the lowest setting and pressing it to your clit.

"Yes," you moaned, hands gripping the sheet above your head. You didn't know how long you were going to last. You were already on the edge of release and he had hardly touched you yet.

As you got close he removed the vibrator, running his hand up your thighs and squeezing your hips to sooth you. You whined and looked at him between you legs. You tried to give him your best puppy eyes, but you couldn't see his expression. You only were met with the blank stare of the mask and the vibrations returning to your sensitive cunt.

He continued teasing you, edging you another four or five times. You hated it and loved it at the same time. It amazed you how he knew exactly where to keep you on edge, or at least it would amaze you, if there was a single part of your brain that could think straight.

"Dean," you whined again, desperate for release.

"Beg for it," he responded sternly, fingers dipping inside you again.

"Please, fuck me." You squirmed, you didn't know if you wanted to get away from he sensation or fuck yourself on his fingers.

He sped up his motions and leaned over you body until he was face to face with you. You could just barely see his eyes, but you knew he was watching you fall into ecstasy.

"Please," you begged.

He removed his fingers and dropped his boxers. His cock was thick and dripping precum, edging you had teased him almost equally as much. He pulled your hips even closer to the edge of the bed and hooked your shaking legs over his shoulders. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he slid into you, filling you completely.

He watched your face as your head fell back in pleasure, a loud moan escaping your lips.

"That's my girl," he praised, running his hands up and down your sides, desperately trying to keep himself together.

He started thrusting into you, slow, but so deep you could hardly take it.

"Look at me," he said, his hand came up to circle around your throat to put your attention back on him.

Your eyes opened to watch as he fucked you. You could see a blush of exertion creeping down his neck from under the mask. He gently added pressure to the sides of your throat as the speed of his hips increased.

Your hands reached for him as you got closer to falling apart. Noticing how close you were, he started to circle your clit with his thumb. You came with cry of his name, your hand gripping his forearm, his hand loosening from your throat, causing you to feel almost high.

He planted his hand beside your head as his hips stuttered and he came with a deep moan. You both stilled for a few minutes, panting and trying to regain your bearings.

After a moment, he gently pulled out to go get a towel to clean up your combined mess. You squirmed from the sensitivity as he wiped you down. He whispered an apology before tossing the rag and undoing the belt from your wrists.

Finally removing the mask, he ran a hand down his face and smiled down at you. It was funny to see him have that boyish grin after playing the sexy, dangerous slasher for the past hour. He lifted you up to place you at the top of the bed against the pillows.

"That was awesome," he said, laying down beside you and wrapping you in his arms.

"Yeah it was, I fucking love you." You laughed and buried your head in his neck.

"I love you too sweetheart, and I love that I can do things like this with you."

You nodded in agreement before you started to feel how worn out you were.

Both of you were exhausted from your activities and quickly fell asleep, deciding to take a nap before settling down for a night of Halloween movies and junk food.

[forpsheturnpesbian]

Can you do somethin where Paige is having a hard time adjusting to Dallas and mentally just isn’t doing great so azzi comes and surprises her and they work through her thoughts and headspace and just some fluff

Home is you

Word count: 667

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

a/n: hope this is to ur liking, tried to do this ask justice. One of my first times writing please point out any errors and i’ll try my best to correct them eng isnt my first language. (Didn’t proofread it bare with me guys)

Dallas was..great

Nothing was wrong. She had chosen to be there. She had sworn to give this franchise the best player they could ever hope for, because they had chosen her

Out of all the players invited with the intent of contributing to greatness, she was their pick, their prospect, their player.

Paige was a franchise player and she was chosen to be exactly that

And as much as that is rewarding it is equally terrifying in its own unique way.

Everything was brand new, a new team, new coaching staff, new place, hell a whole new goddamn city. And P took it like a champ—Cheering on teammates, semi-unpacking, establishing her goals for the season, getting used to what Dallas has to offer, and training to get better everyday like she says everyday.

But the rook can only take so much. Till the tension has sinked completely into her bones, till she can barely breathe. Finally a breath of fresh air

Incoming call: Az💗

“Baby?” Paige asked her, breathing for the first time all day sinking into her overly expensive couch still in her sweaty gym clothes.

“Yeah im here” voice soft and tinged with concern

“This might be the wildest thing i'mma ever say” with a huff

“Uh..huh” Azzi raises a brow but follows anyways

“I think I- miss storrs?” She said rubbing her forehead

“Really? That's what you built up to?” She says trying to conceal her amusement but her tone was not convincing anyone.

“But seriously what makes you say that?” She asks in a tone so sweet and warming it puts honey to shame

“I just- I don’t belong here” voice cracking for just a second, barely noticeable over the line

“Paige” her voice softening even further

“Azzi” she says teasingly trying to ease away whatever worry she knows azzi’s feeling

“You fit anywhere and everywhere you go, and you know that”

“Do I? This is news to me tell me more” she snorts but she knows what azzi’s saying is real “yeah I know”

They talk about nothing in particular for god knows how long, during god knows when.

How they even find the time for it is truly a challenge itself.

But they’ll always find it, it doesn't matter if it’s 5 hours or 5 minutes.

…

A few days after that call she starts feeling all the isolation she didn’t know she felt in the first place rush back to her when she started unpacking the rest of her things.

It all hits her full force when she opens her polaroid box.

A shoe box she filled with pictures of everyone she could possibly need—her siblings, her dad, the team, coach, and the person who filled most of the box—her love

And that broke whatever show she tried so hard to put on.

That is until home finally found her, when she couldn’t find it.

When she sees the brown eyes she fell into when she was 14 and never left.

And before she knows it she latches all 6 feet of herself onto azzi with no space for air in between. She just stands there for a moment, head buried in her neck, wrapping her arms around azzi like if she held on tight enough her girl would never slip away.

“Do me a favour never leave again” Paige asks wholeheartedly, head still buried into all things azzi.

Earning a small laugh from her, and Paige thinks it’s the best thing she's heard since she’d gotten here.

“I’ll try my best for the 2 days I'm here?” She says slightly amused

“Shhh Im in denial let me have this” and it earns a real laugh from the brunette, the kind that makes you dedicate your life to hearing over and over again.

And as for Paige she’s heard 9 years worth of it and many more to come, whether it's right here or 1000 miles apart she’ll always find a way to hear it.

[yuikomorii]

What's the actual relationship between Karlheinz and Ayato's like? Did Ayato always hated his dad? Did he forgive his dad?

(Hi admin~ Hope you're doing well 💌)

// Hey, I am! I hope you’re doing well too! 💕

As for your questions… Ayato might truly have the most complicated relationship with Karlheinz.

At first, Ayato disliked Karlheinz for personal reasons: being a neglectful father and husband. As a child longing for love and attention, Ayato’s pain ran deep, though it hadn’t yet turned to hate. But as he grew older and uncovered the full extent of Karl’s actions, his resentment became hatred. This is so important because Ayato, despite his arrogant exterior, is profoundly empathetic. He’s willing to forgive those who wrong him, as he's already done more than once, likely because he's learned to carry his own pain and move on. But when someone ruins other people without feeling any sort of remorse, that crosses a line he can’t overlook. (first pic)

Ayato is pretty much the only one who can call Karlheinz out in a way that actually hits him. In his MB good ending, when Ayato tells him “I pity you for being unable to realize the joy that comes from having someone love you to death,” Karlheinz is left speechless. That moment isn’t loud or dramatic, but it’s powerful, since for the first time, Karlheinz is really forced to face what he’s lost. And most likely, he envies Ayato for having something he’ll never get back. The wild part is that Karlheinz doesn’t try to brush it off or chuckle about it, he just... accepts it. He even tells Ayato not to make the same mistake. There’s a quiet kind of respect there, maybe even a touch of pride buried under all that regret. That moment feels different because Karlheinz finally looks at someone (Ayato) not just as another piece in his chess set. Out of all his sons, Ayato is the one Karlheinz sees as a glimpse of what he could’ve been, if he’d chosen love over his plans. (second and third pics)

In LE, after Ayato dies, it’s kind of surprising that he still wants to see Karlheinz, but at the same time, it makes a lot of sense. He’s still traumatized about what happened to him and needs someone to vent to. Ayato’s always been someone who needs interactions. Whether he's teasing someone, protecting them, or showing love in his own way, those relationships make him love life. But now that Ayato’s lonely, even the worst connection feels better than no connection at all. He’s always been afraid of being left truly alone, so with nothing left, he’s reaching for the only thing he remembers still being there: his father. (fourth pic)

In the CL bad ending, after Ayato fails to escape the miniature garden, we finally see something new on Karl’s face: regret. Usually, in bad endings, Karl either punishes those who fail or shows disappointment before rewinding time. But here, just by looking at his expression, you can tell there’s something different. It’s like a part of him actually feels sorry and perhaps he’s realizing it wasn’t entirely Ayato’s fault that things ended the way they did. (fifth pic)

Credit to: dialovers-translations and kyouxa

We know that, to Karlheinz, Ayato is the ideal Adam candidate, as shown here, but what really gets to me is that Ayato is the only Sakamaki who can rewind time even after death, just like Karlheinz himself. And that ability is basically Karl’s signature trait. It honestly feels like Rejet was pushing the “He’s the most like his father” narrative, which is pretty unsettling, especially when you think about everything Karl put him through in YB and throughout the franchise in general. Yet, I suppose it can’t be helped, given that Rejet is known for making everything messed up, lol.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I will never understand people who want female characters in the game, you know why the game only has boys, the game is for the female target audience, there are several games with only girls

[Referencing this post!]

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to see more women in Twst in general! You’d expect it, wouldn’t you…? Maybe not at NRC, but with the students so often going abroad or into Foothill Town or meeting with their family members, they’d surely run into women at some point or another. It makes the world feel more fleshed out when these women are actually give unique designs and characters, as we see with some siblings, parents, and grandparents.

However, these women would likely not become playable because Twst is presented as a story exploring relationships between men and the primary setting is an all-boys magic school. Outsiders can’t even come onto NRC campus without authorization because of its magic barrier. Twst is also aiming for a certain target demographic, and while women can also enjoy women, it’s just not the direction the devs have decided to go with. It hasn’t chosen to be a mixed gender gacha game from the get-go, so expecting or demanding it of the devs isn’t the way to go; no expectation of a playable mixed gender roster has been set for Twst.

I don’t think anyone is calling for an all-girls game, but I have seen complaints that there’s no all-girls magic school mentioned, only all-boys ones as far as I am aware. It creates the impression that magic and elite schools are only for men, but I don’t think that’s the intention of the game?? It feels like a limitation due to the format and assets (like how the game only shows beastmen students in Savanaclaw when the manga and anime show beastmen in all the dorms). With the franchise being so centered on appealing to women, many of whom are yumejoshi (self-shippers) or are fujoshi (enjoyers of men loving men), introducing an all-girls school may cause tension with ships the fans have. The mere PRESENCE of a girl has caused waves in fandoms before, even if the girl just exists and doesn’t do or say anything flirty. (See: Obey Me fandom when Thirteen was announced; some fans felt threatened that she would “steal” the boys away.) Maybe Twst wants to avoid that…? Granted, OM is a dating sim/romantic in nature and Twst isn’t, so the reaction may not be the same.

I want to point out men do this too, even for games that aren’t romantic or dating sims. When Granblue Fantasy did a collab with Love Live, they eliminated all men from the event story except for the player character so as to not have any men BUT the player interacting with the Love Live idol girls.

In any case, I’m sure that all-girls magic schools exist in Twst, but just are not mentioned or explored in order to not infringe on this large aspect of the fandom. This is probably also why no NRC staff are women, even though one-gender schools irl typically don’t insist the staff match that gender as well (as this would be gender discrimination). Again, it’s not Twst’s focus. Just because Twst doesn’t call attention to it doesn’t mean it isn’t real or that it never happened. (If that were the case, then we’d assume silly things like the characters not showering is true even though they must clearly all clean themselves off-screen.)

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if Twst introduced more women characters that weren’t family members or ineligible NPCs (like the Ghost Bride/Eliza) 💦 What would happen if Twst gave us a cute girl around the NRC students’ age that frequently interacts with the main cast of boys? Like… would there be vitriol towards her from the shippers?? Would she be seen as “competition”???

And, interestingly, Yuus are an exception to this because they are seen as a proxy for players (who are largely feminine-presenting women) who self insert and project onto them. Fans liked when Yuuka Hirasaka (Episode of Savanaclaw manga Yuu) “canonized” girl Yuus, and they LOVED Yuuna Oujou (Episode of Scarabia manga Yuu) for “canonizing” outright feminine Yuus because they validate femme fans’ identities.

I find the fandom reaction to Yuuna (whom I adore) especially fascinating because I think it actually highlights some issues with the expectations we have for women and how we perceive the same relationships entirely differently just by swapping out a femme!Yuu for a masc!Yuu. I would recommend reading this post by Kallisto; I found it so enlightening and it made me see this matter from a whole new perspective.

[copalcetic]

“We asked for a chance to defeat the Sith, and we failed."

This is what Kanan tells Ezra when Ezra asks why Yoda sent them to Malachor, and it haunts me. They asked for a chance, and Yoda gives them one, and they fail. And after that, as far as I can tell? Yoda writes them off. Yoda never appears to them after Malachor; Obi-Wan, when Ezra turns up on Tatooine, tells him "You're in the wrong place," refuses to help the Rebellion, and sends him home. All Yoda and Obi-Wan's eggs are in one basket, and that basket is labeled "Luke." Kanan and Ezra are on their own.

It would be so easy for them to give up. They're not the chosen ones; they failed their test. Who could blame them?

But they don't. Kanan works through his depression, Ezra comes back from the dark, and they keep fighting. It doesn't matter that they'll never defeat the Sith. It doesn't matter that the battles they fight are insignificant on the galaxy-wide scale, that no one really cares about Lothal except them and their friends. It doesn't matter that the structure of the Star Wars franchise means they'll never even be a footnote to history; by A New Hope, no one will remember them.

What matters is that the fight is worth fighting, so they're going to give it all they have.

This is why I love Rebels, and all the other bits of Star Wars sandwiched between Revenge of the Sith and A New Hope. We have lots of stories, as a culture, about people who vanquish evil; we don't have nearly as many that valorize people who fight battles they can't win. We watch these shows and play these games knowing that the protagonists won't defeat Vader or the Empire, knowing they're living in the wrong place and the wrong time, and we learn to care anyway. We learn that even impossible fights are worth fighting, that every skirmish matters even when they're not what wins the war.

We need more media like that. Because most of us are never going to be the ones who strike the final blow (if a final blow even exists) against climate change, or bigotry, or whatever battle we're fighting. And it is so easy to give up hope, and so important to remember that the struggle matters, even when you fail.

[angelseraphines]

stop blaming obi-wan kenobi for anakin skywalker’s fall: understanding accountability in complex relationships

there’s something that’s been frustrating me for a long time about the way we talk about obi-wan kenobi and anakin skywalker, especially in online discourse. namely, the persistent idea that obi-wan is in some way responsible for anakin’s turn to the dark side, that by not stopping him, not being “enough,” not seeing the signs, obi-wan enabled his fall and thus shares the blame for darth vader’s birth. i want to unpack why this reading is not just flawed in terms of character analysis and canon, but also why it echoes real-world patterns of excusing destructive behavior by blaming the people around it.

at its core, this idea that obi-wan “failed” anakin is harmful, because it echoes the logic we use to guilt victims and survivors of emotionally abusive or manipulative relationships. obi-wan and anakin were not equals in their emotional dynamic. they were master and apprentice, yes, but the power imbalance went both ways, anakin, who had been told since childhood that he was the “chosen one,” carried a narcissistic streak that grew as he did. he was entitled, he was possessive, and he struggled to take responsibility for his own emotions or decisions. obi-wan, for his part, was patient, cautious, deeply dutiful, and often emotionally reserved, but never malicious or neglectful.

and yet, people argue that obi-wan “let” anakin fall. that he “should have known.” but here’s the truth, anakin’s descent was not caused by a lack of love or oversight. it was caused by anakin’s choices. obi-wan didn’t plant the seeds of jealousy, fear, or violence in him. palpatine did. anakin’s attachment issues did. the jedi order’s flawed dogma did. but obi-wan? he spent his life trying to guide him, trying to connect with him, trying to save him. and in the end, he blamed himself when it all fell apart.

and that’s one of the most painfully real things about obi-wan kenobi’s character, he internalizes the blame for something he never caused. that’s what emotionally manipulative dynamics do. they make the people who gave everything feel like it was never enough. they convince the loyal ones that they failed. it is not only inaccurate to say obi-wan is to blame, it is cruel.

some people argue that because obi-wan stayed by anakin’s side, didn’t report him, didn’t force him to change, that he is somehow complicit. but that logic is flawed. we cannot hold people responsible for the actions of those who ultimately betray them. we cannot expect a friend, a mentor, or even a brother to save someone who refuses to be saved. the idea that someone like obi-wan should have known, should have stopped it, is a harmful narrative we often apply to people who’ve survived toxic relationships in real life, “why didn’t you leave?” “why didn’t you stop them?” “why didn’t you see it coming?” as if foresight could rewrite fate. as if love alone could fix someone bent on self-destruction.

and it’s not just about emotional abuse, it’s also about envy. anakin was jealous of obi-wan. from attack of the clones to revenge of the sith. he felt like obi-wan was the jedi ideal, respected, composed, everything anakin was told to be but could never fully become. and anakin hated that, even as he craved obi-wan’s approval. it’s a toxic cycle. it’s also worth saying that obi-wan clearly loved anakin, in his own way. he told him he was like a brother. he fought for him again and again. and anakin still turned on him.

did anakin care for obi-wan? at some point, yes. but did he deserve him? no. and that’s the heart of this. anakin skywalker did not deserve obi-wan kenobi. and no amount of tragedy or pain can make that untrue. obi-wan didn’t betray anakin. anakin betrayed obi-wan.

now, this doesn’t mean we have to hate anakin. i don’t. i think he’s fascinating. i think he’s one of the most layered characters in the franchise. but i also think we need to stop treating that complexity like an excuse. just because a character is compelling doesn’t mean we should defend their actions. i love watching director krennic and darth maul. i find them compelling, tragic, interesting. but i would never justify what they did. and the same should be true for anakin skywalker.

ultimately, it is important to remember that this is the internet, and encountering differing opinions is both inevitable and, in the grand scheme of things, this issue is not that serious. it’s entirely acceptable to disagree. personally, i find anakin skywalker to be a brilliantly crafted character, his complexity, flaws, and arc make him compelling, and as evident from my previous posts, i’ve never expressed any grave issue with him. at the end of the day, he is a fictional figure, and like many others, i enjoy writing about him and engaging with his story simply because he’s an interesting and important part of the star wars universe.

[balrogballs]

Some hairy thoughts:

I always get asks or comments talking about how people love my defense of movie Elrond’s hairline or that I am the bravest soldier for it, and I need to make one thing clear.

I am not a defender of movie Elrond’s hairline. I am an enjoyer of it.

I am feral for that hairline. I genuinely think a good widow’s peak is sexy. More forehead to lick. More brains to overthink hand in hand with. He can still look like Lúthien no matter what hairline he has, because Lúthien was a woman so unlikely to develop male pattern baldness.

I am not the bravest soldier on the final frontier of that hairstyle out of noble aspirations or loyalty, nor patriotism. I am not even a crusader for my king, because frankly I don’t like action franchises, have never seen Hugo Weaving in anything except the Matrix and Priscilla, and do not plan to. I am doing this for purely selfish reasons. I love that little V-forehead. A constant, unchanging arrow, a tether to my motivations, a constant reminder of a place I deeply wish to explore.

Also, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, if I personally lived six thousand years of a life like Elrond’s, forget male pattern baldness, the first thing Frodo sees upon waking up in Imladris would look like this:

I recently noticed how all the male Imladris elves in the films wear their circlets really low compared to the other ones and yes, yes, different regional fashions but have chosen to read it as a beautiful gesture of solidarity with their lord. The lower it gets, the hotter you think Elrond is. That’s why Lindir’s one is basically halfway down his forehead even though he has a perfectly normal hairline.

I understand, Lindir. I would do the same. I would do it better than you. I would wear it around my pussy.

[nylqnder]

𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐄 & 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 | 𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐉 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐅𝐊𝐎𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

— cozytober masterlist !

summary: you pick out yours and jurajs matching costume for the canadiens halloween party, even though he knows nothing about the world in a galaxy far, far away.

warnings: kind of spoilers for the Star Wars franchise, barely nsfw (just juraj appreciating how hot his gf is)

word count: 1.18k

notes: ninth fic of cozytober! fun fact i have not seen star wars so idk if any of this makes sense.

The party was already in full swing when you and Juraj arrived at Nick’s house. The house was packed with players and their partners, all dressed in an assortment of creative, quirky, and hilarious costumes. The house was decorated with cobwebs, faux tombstones, and string lights that glowed a soft orange, adding a festive yet spooky ambiance. Music thumped through the walls, and laughter echoed around every corner.

Juraj tugged at the collar of his Anakin Skywalker costume, looking down at the dark robes he was wearing. “Are you sure this is right?” he asked, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. He hadn’t seen any of the Star Wars movies, but he’d agreed to dress up as Anakin after seeing how excited you were about the idea. You couldn’t help but grin as you adjusted his tunic a little.

“Trust me, you look great,” you said, smoothing down the fabric of your own Padmé-inspired outfit. The shorts you wore were definitely on the tiny side, hugging your hips, but they worked perfectly with the rest of the costume. Juraj’s eyes briefly flicked down to them before he glanced back up to your face, a slight blush on his cheeks giving away what was going on in his thoughts.

“What if we just went back to my place and skipped the party?” Juraj muttered, a mischievous glint in his eye as he tugged you closer by the waist. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his fingers brushing the edge of those tiny shorts. The way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, made your heart skip a beat.

You playfully swatted his chest. “Nice try, but we’re already here. Besides,” you gestured toward the house, “don’t you want to show off your costume?”

Juraj chuckled, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I still don’t even know who I’m supposed to be.” His breath against your skin sent a little shiver down your spine. You laughed, reaching up to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead.

“Well, Anakin’s kind of a big deal,” you teased. “He’s the chosen one, strong with the Force, and he falls in love with me—well, Padmé,” you corrected. “So, you’ve basically already nailed the character.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I’ll take your word for it.”

As you entered the house, you were immediately swept up in the buzzing energy of the party. People were scattered around in small groups, some laughing, others snapping photos in front of a Halloween-themed backdrop that Nick and Caitlin had set up in the living room. You spotted a few teammates dressed in their own humorous costumes — Jake and Emily doing a group costume with Alex as Willy Wonka and Oompa Loompas, Cole as Spider-man, and Brendan and Emma as Remy and Linguini from Ratatouille.

“Lookin’ sharp, Skywalker!” Cole called out when he noticed Juraj, his smirk only growing wider when he saw your costume. “And Padmé! You guys really went all out.”

“Thanks, man,” Juraj said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. He leaned in closer to you, murmuring under his breath, “Who’s Skywalker again?”

You stifled a laugh, about to answer, when Arber and his girlfriend, Stephanie, walked up. Stephanie’s eyes lit up when she saw your outfit.

“Oh my god, I love your costume! You guys look amazing together,” she gushed.

Before you could respond, Arber smirked, eyeing Juraj with an amused glint. “So, do you even know who you’re dressed as, big guy? Or did you just let her pick for you?”

“Honestly, no idea. But she was really excited about it, so… here I am.” Juraj said, being honest with Arber. “Also,” Juraj continued, his voice lowering slightly as his gaze swept over you, “she looks hot in this costume, so I wasn’t going to say no.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you swatted his arm with an embarrassed laugh. “Juraj!”

Arber cracked a grin. “Fair enough,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s as good a reason as any.”

Stephanie giggled, shaking her head. “Well, whatever the reason, your costume is great and you both look adorable.”

As the night buzzed on around you, Juraj stayed close, his arm casually draped over your shoulders. You found a quieter corner of the room, away from the chaos of the main party, where you could talk without yelling over the music. The dim lighting cast a warm glow over both of you, the orange string lights reflecting in Juraj’s eyes as he glanced down at you.

You leaned back against the wall, catching your breath after all the excitement. The noise of the party still hummed around you, but here in this little corner, it felt like it was just the two of you. Juraj had his hand on your hip, fingers lazily tracing circles on your exposed skin just above the waistband of your shorts.

“Maybe I do need to watch these movies,” Juraj said, eyes not leaving yours.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and a teasing smile played on your lips. “Oh yeah? You’re finally giving in, huh?”

Juraj chuckled, his thumb gently brushing over your hip. “I mean, if I’m going to be walking around in this costume, I should probably at least know who I’m supposed to be.”

You bit back a grin, feeling a flutter in your chest at the thought of introducing him to one of your favorite movie series. “I think you’d actually enjoy them. There’s lightsaber fights, space battles, all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, but does the guy get the girl in the end?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You hesitated, thinking about the bittersweet love story between Anakin and Padmé. “Well… it’s complicated,” you admitted, your smile softening. “But I can promise it’s worth watching.”

“Hmmm,” Juraj hummed, “Sounds like a plan.”

“Okay if we do watch Star Wars, you have to promise to pay attention,” you said, poking him lightly in the chest, knowing he had a tendency to get distracted during movies.

He grinned, pressing a light kiss to your temple. “Deal.” Then, after a brief pause, he added, “How do you feel about leaving and heading back to my place right now to start that movie marathon?”

The playful challenge in his eyes was hard to resist, and you couldn’t help but grin. “Well, if you insist…” you began, standing up a little straighter and sliding your arm around his waist, “…I guess we could get started on that marathon.”

Juraj’s grin widened, and before you knew it, you were both making your way to the front door, quietly sneaking out of the party without a second glance back. As the cool night air hit your face, you leaned into him, feeling his warmth as he led you toward the car.

“Let’s just hope you can stay awake through the first movie,” you teased, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes.

Juraj laughed, his arm tightening around you. “With you next to me? I’m not going anywhere.”

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Since I asked you about Sephiroth, I also wanted to ask about what you think of Aerith’s character and her characterization throughout the franchise.

Hhh oh god. Yeah.

So, again, Aerith begins in Final Fantasy VII as a seemingly intentional semi-subversion of the Princess Holy Maiden White Mage JRPG trope.

Mechanically she is absolutely a classic white mage, but she's also a street kid with way more life experience than Cloud, who both connects instantly with him due to his similarities with Zack, her dead ex (because, of course, Cloud is directly copying Zack's entire personality), but she also notably pushes back against him, and repeatedly refuses to let him treat her like a damsel in distress, and takes direct agency over where the story is going and what's going to happen.

As she becomes more and more conscious of her Magic Special Lineage, she changes, of course, and... arguably falls a bit more into a straight rendition of the Holy Maiden trope. Albeit I have always quite loved the reveal that Aerith isn't killed by Sephiroth just as a big tragic fridging to advance the story through Cloud's pain, but as an intentional gambit on her part to ultimately defeat the villain. The translation of the game is famously a bit wonky, but my reading of the story is that she

realizes that Sephiroth is manipulating Cloud as his primary agent in the world and that she needs to get away from him

realizes that in order to cast Holy and defeat Meteor she needs to enter the Lifestream, so

she manipulates Jenova/Sephiroth into killing her in the one place on the Planet that has the strongest connection with the Ancients so she can take advantage of their knowledge to figure out how to make Holy work.

It also kinda seems to me like she realizes that Cloud is the best chance the planet has of a champion who can defeat Sephiroth and unblock the Lifestream for the Holy spell, and maybe she sacrifices herself in part in the hopes of breaking Cloud out of Sephiroth's influence. which, yeah, that is definitely some fridging-trope nonsense.

The original game absolutely isn't perfect on how it handles it, but Aerith is (especially for the late 90s) a remarkably active player in the story, with a lot of agency entirely separate from the male protagonist, who comes into a role that requires her to separate herself from the main party and go off to set her own plans into motion.

I am overall less fond of how she got portrayed in media after the original FF7, where she really did seem to get boxed into an entirely unironic Holy Maiden trope - especially by Advent Children which casts her as a literal lover/mother to Cloud, whose especially pure and holy influence heals the blight of Geostigma once her darling Cloud overcomes his personal conflict. And certainly, a lot of portrayals of Aerith I've seen tend to focus way more on her mystical, divine Cetra Chosen One-ness than on her actual upbringing as a scrappy sassy street kid.

The Remake games... have generally walked the line okay, I think? Aerith with the steel chair might genuinely be my favourite gif from any videogame ever,

(she's just so happy to be beating the shit out of this man)

although I do feel like her portrayal in those games make her a bit too much of a Love Interest To The Protagonist character. I feel the balance in the original focused a lot more on her coming into an understanding of her role in the story separate from her attachment to Cloud, but I also have massive nostalgia glasses on my face about Final Fantasy VII, so I recognize that I am biased here.

I'm curious how the Remake trilogy, which is a wild metacommentary on the legacy of its own original, will ultimately handle her, and I really do hope it doesn't confuse the idea of a "good ending" for Aerith with the idea of being romantically paired up to a male character, or with the idea of literal or metaphorical motherhood or some other bioessentialist nonsense.

[rulernogard156]

What if Lion el' Johnson was found and raised by the Yautja (The Predators)

I got this idea while going to bed last night after I watched Predator: Killer of Killers.

I can't express my love for the Yautja and most of The Predator franchise.

I also love the AUs where the primarchs are found and raised by xenos races. Mainly Pete the Wargamer's series on the subject. And I like crossovers.

So imagine if you will, "The Grendel King" adopting and raising the Lion! As the Lion grows, his inate primarch nature makes him the best of the best, impressing even the Ancients when it comes to combat prowess. The Yautja are a people of honour and discipline, so I feel of all the primarchs. The Lion and his personality fit well with them.

(Though to be fair, I only know about The Lion through osmosis and Son of the Forest, so sorry if im misinterpreting.)

Also, imagine how the Emperor would have to adapt, especially if multiple of his sons were raised by xenos(to the point the primarchs bond with them)

Emps is then forced to slowly alter his Xenos policy more and more, lol 😆 forced to open his mind 🤣 (get fucked old man)

Also, yes, I could have chosen Jagathai, but I think there is probably a more fitting species for The Khan. (Im open to suggestions! 😊)

Final thing. Those two Yautja are my own ocs!

[chiisana-sukima]

nine people i want to get to know better

Thank you for the tag, @slutsons-blog! Starting a new post because I'm autistic and therefore mostly only care about the "Current Obsession" question, and want to ramble excessively as usual in that one.

Last song: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Red Rescue Team: Pokemon Square because I'm currently playing Pokemon Mystery Dungeon with my daughter. Otherwise I honestly couldn't tell you. Whatever was on in my car.

Fave color: Purple

Currently watching: Star Trek Discovery

Last movie: Knives Out

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet, tart, salty

Relationship: married x 27 years

Last thing I googled: the word "dependent", for spelling assistance. which is a good thing because I spelled it "dependant".

Current Obsession: it's been spn since 2016. Truly we are the Hotel California of media franchises. I did recently play Disco Elysium twice in a row in quick succession, and I follow the DE tag. I can't recommend the game highly enough.... but I can feel my Special Interest-level obsession with it fading already. Spn has never faded even a tiny bit and I wonder if it ever will.

@slutsons-blog I feel after reading that you're watching spn for the first time, that I did you a bit of a disservice with my Sam takes to you before in that I mostly talked about Sam's evolution as a character as the show goes on and very little about him from the first five seasons.

Gotta be honest and tell you that although I liked both brothers all along, I was a Dean girl until the end of s6/beginning of s7, when the balance of who gets whumped the most started shifting and my subconscious suddenly decided to switch allegiances. It's not that I liked Dean any less; my id just loves a sopping wet pathetic kitten of a man who has been sexually abused, and Sam got suddenly way more kitteny and pathetic after the Cage. So I don't actually have a ton of takes on "what to love about Sam in the early seasons". I do love early seasons Sam too--she is my beautiful baby princess--but my early seasons takes are a lot more inchoate.

I count myself lucky about my id's sudden defection though, because I think we have limited control of who our blorbos are, and having Dean as a blorbo is a tough row to hoe as the later seasons go along. You know how you noticed that in s6, Dean suddenly gets a lot more assholey without apparent reason? Unfortunately he never gets better again, and in fact keeps getting worse and worse as the years go by, until by the last seasons he is openly far more abusive to their joint child(-in-an-adult body) than John was to him and Sam. It's a realistic picture of what can happen when trauma keeps piling up on people, but it's also honestly pretty distressing, especially if he's your blorbo.

If one is in it for the ship, there's some good destiel content in the later seasons, but if you're in it for Dean, you're left either 1) dealing with the fact he's got extremely significant interpersonal problems that he never gets much of anywhere on solving and that negatively impact his chosen family in profound ways, or 2) pretending he's the same character he was in s1 and Sam is the same Sam from s1, only more boring, and Dean is just trying to put up with him because he was brainwashed by John (or ig 3- something in the middle between those two. But that seldom seems to happen in practice for whatever reason). These two versions of the show are poorly compatible, and that's how the Sam girls and the Dean girls end up in isolated silos. A few people manage to live in both, but not many.

Anyway, I feel like without the context of how Sam and Dean change in the mid to late seasons, the two fics I recc'd as Sam character studies are going to seem insanely Dean-critical, so if you haven't read them yet, you might want to wait until s10. In the meantime, the general recs are fun reads and hopefully do a good job of showcasing both characters earlier on.

Tagging (but I would be a huge hypocrite if I didn't specify there's no pressure to respond, since I almost always fail at responding to tag games myself): @adihildilid @aliusfrater @quietwingsinthesky @sammygender @ardentpoop

@peanutbutterandbananasandwichs @schizosamwincester @normalbrothershow @jellybracelet.