#why nobody is talking about it here then?

[luveline]

Okay what about a role reversal, shy!reader tries to flirt back or even unintentionally does something that ends up flustering Spencer 🫣 love ya Jade

this fic implies that spencer is a bit taller than reader but you can pretend he’s more agile if you don’t want that <3

You're guilty only of teasing your boyfriend. You’re allowed —he’s your boyfriend, he chose you, asked you out without a wince nor flinch— but it really is getting mean. 

You’re sick of being the shy one, that’s all. It’s not purposefully cruel. You’re rewarded some nights with a clingy, warm, and overly tempting boy, one who cares about what you want and how it feels, if you’d just tell him, angel. You refuse to be caught, so you’ve waited a while between goes, and tonight’s the perfect time. He’ll forget how flushed you’d become trying to order him a drink, because you know exactly how he likes his coffee, but you’d been distracted by his hand playing with the back of your blouse and the smug look he’d given you when you’d offered to do it, as if you were some treasure for it. It was worse when you stammered and he said, “It’s alright,” quietly, stepping in to finish it, and kissing your cheek to give a simple thank you. 

You didn't deserve the thanks. You didn’t get his coffee. He hadn’t even let you pay. 

Coffee gone and dinner in the oven, Spencer lays on the couch, curled on one side with his e-reader held against a naked forearm. You haven’t spoken to one another in an hour beyond quiet Okays and Yeahs and move over, and you love it. You don’t need to speak. 

You won’t need to for this, either, but you’re in a rush. You want the reward. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, sure you’re in his eyeline in the kitchen, doors open, in a t-shirt too short for you when you feign reaching for the hot chocolate at the back of his cabinet. 

“You okay?” Spencer asks. 

You can feel his eyes on you. “Yeah! Just–” You huff, the beginning to get genuinely irked when you realise you actually can’t get it. “Can’t get this tub of hot chocolate.”

“Your first mistake was trying to make your own when you have a built-in drinks maker right here,” he says, almost not quite normal in his cadence. 

You make a leap for it and your shirt rises up your back. You don’t get what’s so special about your back, it looks the same as anybody’s (or, you think so, it’s not like you spend much time looking at it). Maybe it’s the arch as you lean, or the slip of skin nobody else usually sees. Boys aren’t usually very mysterious about why they might like to see your skin, but Spencer’s Spencer. One day he could tell you that the reason he likes it is because you have a stretch mark and two moles that make a smiley face and you’d believe him. 

“I actually can’t get it,” you laugh, falling back down onto your heels with a childish, loving pout. “Can you grab it, please?” 

He’s already in the kitchen moving you aside. “I’ll get it, I got it,” he says, his fingertips kissing your back as he does, no need for it and a private pleasure all your own to know that. “Why is it wedged?” He goes on tiptoes, and yanks it out, nearly blinding himself with a can of spaghetti quickly righted. “Done. Easy.”

“So easy,” you tease lightly. 

Spencer, already knocked off kilter, goes quiet and shy, pressing his cheek to the side of your face and staying there for a second, the hot chocolate still in his hand, his other flirting with the small of your back. “I know what you’re doing, you know,” he murmurs. 

You go hot all over, but don’t give in. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur back sweetly, stroking a hand up his back, tickling him as he often tortures you. 

“Yeah, you do.” 

“No,” you say, speaking into his jaw, “I don’t.” You let your breath warm his skin, nose dragged to his ear. You press a whisper of a kiss to that sharp notch of his jaw. When his grip on you tightens, you let him hear your contented sigh. 

“Can your drink wait, do you think?” he asks quietly. 

Impolite. You’d tell him you want the IOU in writing, but his hand is creeping up the front of your shirt to caress your stomach, and suddenly the hot chocolate feels unimportant. 

[sidequestsinlife]

time for some statistical analysis of the phandom's attraction to sister daniel!

the original post with results, asking y'all if you are sexually attracted to sister daniel

so now, some analysis of the answers bc why not! disclaimer i am not scientist or a statistician or whatever, sorry if there are mistakes in the math but i'm open to corrections from anyone else who cares enough to read all of this!

there were 1,250 responses over three days. we do not know much about the respondents except that they are likely phannies bc it would be unlikely for them to come across the poll otherwise i guess? since i only asked in the original answer choices which gender you are "typically attracted to" but not your gender, we have no way of knowing how many respondents are some flavor of queer since the ones who answered "typically attracted to men" or "typically attracted to women" could be either gay or straight depending on the respondent's gender, which we do not know.

also just a note, since tumblr does not give us the percentage of respondents beyond one decimal place, there are going to be some fractions of people in here; deal with it, i guess, lol.

overall we had 60.3% "yes" responses (753.75 votes), 33.8% "no responses (422.5 votes), and 75 of you chose "secret extra option/bald/results. as for that last option, from the notes i suspect that a lot of that stems from people being uncertain about what defines sexual attraction? idk either i am not a scientist, but i probably could have found a better way to word that. sorry!

anyway, for those who identified yourselves as "typically attracted to men," there were 116.25 "yes" answers and 65 "no" answers, meaning those attracted to men were almost twice as likely to be attracted to sister daniel as not (specifically ~1.79x as likely).

for those who identified yourselves as "typically attracted to women," there were 187.5 "yes" answers and 131.25 "no" answers, meaning y'all were ~1.43x as likely to be attracted to sister daniel as not.

for the "various genders/other gender(s)," we had lots of bi/pan/etc phannies showing up to express their attraction to sister daniel! 417.5 "yes" votes compared to only 103.75 "no" votes! just over 4x as likely to be attracted to sister daniel as not!

and for the "typically attracted to nobody" crowd, we still had 32.5 "yes" votes and 122.5 "no" votes. unsurprisingly, this was the only group more likely not to be attracted to sister daniel, for obvious reasons, being ~3.77x more likely to NOT be attracted to sister daniel. still, about 21% of you said you are attracted to sister daniel despite typically not experiencing sexual attraction

tldr:

all phannies are more likely to be attracted to sister daniel than not, in total

phannies typically attracted to men are 1.79 times more likely to be attracted to sister daniel versus not

phannies typically attracted to women are 1.43 times more likely to be attracted to sister daniel versus not

phannies typically attracted to multiple/other gender(s) are a whopping FOUR times as likely to be attracted to sister daniel as not

phannies typically attracted to nobody were unsurprisingly more likely not to be attracted to sister daniel, but about 21% of y'all still answered yes

IMPORTANT CONCLUSIONS:

attraction to sister daniel transcends typical ideas about gender or sexual identity in a way that confuses many of us, but also turns most of us on.

thank you for coming to my ted talk?

[prettyfilmz]

SWEET LIKE CANDY 3 • JEY USO

author's note: hello my loves! we have officially made it to the third part of SLC (so excitingggg) I must say...I really outdid myself with this part, I am so excited for you guys to read. I hope you enjoy💗

synopsis: in which a celebration at the strip club leads to the beginning of a love affair between a wrestler and a dancer.

pairing: jey uso x black fem!oc (cherise aka candy)

tags: 18+(MDNI), slow burn, flirty banter, teasing, kissing, lots of touching, dirty talk, pussy eating, jey is a certified munch ™, daddy kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys!), breast sucking, biting, fingering, choking, spanking, lotssss of dirty talk, multiple orgasms, daddy kink, pet names ( pretty girl, baby, mama, baby girl ), roughhhhh sex, squirting, creampie, aftercare, they're falling in luvvvvvvv.

word count: 6k words (she's longgggg)

read part one here!

read part two here!

soundtrack playlist

The club smelled like money and perfume, the air thick with bass-heavy music and the hum of people celebrating anything and everything. Cherise moved through it all, ready to head out, her bag slung over her shoulder and her feet aching from a long night of dancing. She paused when she saw Trinity perched in Jimmy’s lap near the bar.

It had become a routine.

Trinity and Jimmy were all over each other every night, and Cherise could barely remember the last time she’d seen either of them without the other. Jimmy had made it clear—Trinity wasn’t just a fling for him, even if their relationship was unconventional.

And then there was Jey.

Her phone vibrated in her hand, and her chest tightened.

Jey: What time you off, baby girl?

Her lips curved into a small smile.

They’d been texting constantly since that night in the VIP room, their conversations flirty and teasing, but deeper, too. They talked about any and everything. And somehow, in between all of that, she found herself softening toward him, her usual walls starting to slip.

Before she could type a reply, Trinity’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Girl, you gon’ stand there lookin’ dreamy or you gon’ say hi?"

Cherise blinked, stuffing her phone into her bag as she walked over.  "Ain’t nobody dreamy over here."

Jimmy smirked, his arm draped lazily over Trinity’s waist.  "Mmm, you sure about that?  ‘Cause you lookin’ like somebody who just got a text from my brother."

Cherise rolled her eyes. "Don’t you got somebody else to bother?"

"Nope." Jimmy grinned.  "That’s why I’m botherin’ you. So, what’s up with y’all?  You givin’ my brother a hard time, huh?"

"Ain’t nothin’ up."

Trinity raised a brow, clearly not buying it. "Girl, you know Jey don’t text just anybody like that. If he’s hittin’ you up, it’s ‘cause he likes you."

"It’s not like that," Cherise said quickly, but her cheeks were burning.  "We’re just talkin’."

"Mmm, sure." Trinity gave her a knowing look before leaning back against Jimmy’s chest.  “He likes you. He might act all tough, but Jey’s a softie underneath it."

“Duly noted,” Cherise muttered, ignoring the way her chest tightened at the thought. She said her goodbyes and headed out of the club, finally free for the night.

The cool night air hit her skin as she stepped out, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.  She was halfway to her car when she noticed a black SUV parked nearby, headlights cutting through the darkness.

And leaning against the driver’s side door?

Jey.

He was in a hoodie and sweatpants, looking so casual and comfortable it made her heart stutter.  He grinned when he saw her, his eyes doing that crinkle which made her heart skip a beat.

"Yo, what took you so long, mama?" he called out.

Cherise stopped, her brows furrowing.  "What are you doing here?"

"Waitin’ on you," he said simply, pushing off the car and walking toward her.  "C’mon, baby girl.  You know I had to see you."

She crossed her arms, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest.  "And you thought just poppin’ up at my job unannounced was a good idea?"

"Hell yeah." He smirked, his voice dropping into that slow, teasing drawl.  "You miss me, baby?"

"Please." She rolled her eyes, but her lips betrayed her, curving into a small smile. "What do you want, Joshua?”

"You."

Her stomach flipped.

"And some Waffle House," he added with a grin.  "I’m starvin’, mama.  Let me take you to get somethin’ to eat."

Cherise hesitated, but the warmth in his eyes melted her resistance.  "Fine."

♡

The late-night crowd was light, the clatter of plates and quiet hum of conversation filling the air as they slid into a booth. Cherise ordered a simple plate of waffles, bacon, and eggs, while Jey went for the All-Star Special, stacking his plate high.

"Damn, you eatin’ light tonight, mama," he teased, leaning back in his seat.  "That all you got in you?"

"*I’m not tryna eat myself into a coma like somebody across from me,” she shot back, smirking. "What, you burnin’ all them calories in the ring or somethin’?"

"Somethin’ like that." He shrugged, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So, what’s up with you?  You been actin’ all mysterious since I met you. Tell me somethin’ real, baby girl."

She raised a brow, cutting into her waffle. “What you wanna know?"

“Everything.” He grinned.  "I don’t wanna talk to Candy right now. I wanna talk to Cherise."

Her hand paused for a moment, the vulnerability of his request catching her off guard. "Cherise is boring," she said lightly with a shrug, trying to brush it off.

"Nah, see, I don’t believe that." He tilted his head, watching her closely. "Tell me why you started dancin’, baby. You don’t seem like the type to be in a place like that."

She hesitated, then set her fork down, meeting his gaze. "I needed the money. Nursing school ain’t cheap, and I wasn’t tryna take out a million loans. The club gave me the flexibility I needed, and it pays the bills."

"Nursing school?" His brows lifted in surprise.  "Damn, mama. You out here savin’ lives and shit?"

"Not yet," she said with a small smile.  "But I’m workin’ on it."

Jey leaned back, his expression softening. "See?  That’s the shit I’m talkin’ about. You over here actin’ like you ain’t special, but you got your shit together, baby.  That’s sexy as hell."

Her cheeks warmed under his praise, and she quickly looked away.  "It’s not that deep, Jey."

"Yeah, it is." His voice was quieter now, more sincere. "You somethin’ special, Cherise. I knew that the second I saw you."

She didn’t know how to respond, so she stayed quiet, focusing on her food.

♡

The drive back to her place was quiet but comfortable, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface.  When they pulled up outside her apartment, she hesitated before unbuckling her seatbelt.

"You good to go, baby?” Jey asked, glancing at her.

"Yeah…" She took a breath, then looked at him.  "You wanna come up? It’s late, and I don’t want you driving back home at this hour.”

His brows lifted, a slow grin spreading across his face. "You sure, baby?"

“5 seconds and I’m changing my mind,” she said quickly, opening the door.

He chuckled, grabbing his keys and following her inside.

Her apartment was small but cozy, the faint smell of vanilla filling the air. Jey’s eyes immediately landed on the messy table near the couch, textbooks and notebooks scattered everywhere.

"Damn, mama, you really hittin’ the books like that, huh?" he teased, dropping onto the couch.

"Don’t start," she muttered, setting her bag down and slipping out of her sneakers. "You want somethin’ to drink?"

"Nah, I’m good."

She joined him on the couch, and for a moment, they just sat there in comfortable silence. But the air between them was charged, the tension from the car now crackling in the quiet space.

"C’mere," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

She let him pull her closer, her breath hitching as his hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him.

"You know how bad I been wantin’ this, mama?" His lips brushed against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.  "Three months, baby.  I been waitin’ three long-ass months to get you like this."

Her hands pressed against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath his hoodie. "Then what are you waitin’ for?"

Jey groaned softly, his lips crashing into hers.

"You gon’ let me kiss you again, mama?" His voice was low, teasing, a soft rasp that sent shivers racing down her spine.

"You already are," Cherise murmured, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

"Mmm… you smart, huh?" Jey chuckled softly, but the sound was swallowed by the way he finally closed the gap, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was hot and unrelenting.

It wasn’t careful this time.

His lips pressed firm against hers, his tongue sliding between them to taste her, to take from her, like he couldn’t hold back anymore.  Cherise let herself fall into it, her fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as his hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips like they belonged there.

"Mmm, baby…" Jey groaned against her mouth, breaking the kiss only to trail his lips down the curve of her jaw to her neck.  "You smell so fuckin’ good. You been tryna kill me, huh?"

"Jey—" Her breath hitched as his teeth grazed her pulse point, nipping lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Shhh…" His hands gripped her thighs, tugging her across his lap so she was straddling him.  "I got you, mama. Just let me take care of you."

Cherise’s head tipped back as his lips continued their path, sucking gently at the sensitive skin of her throat, marking her in places only he would know were there.  His hands slid up her back, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

"Off," he muttered, his voice thick with heat.  "Lemme see you, baby."

She hesitated for half a second, her walls flickering back into place, but the look in his eyes, filled with admiration, had her giving in.

She lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it aside, leaving her in a simple lace bra that hugged her full breasts perfectly.

"Damn, Cherise…” Jey’s hands slid up her sides, his thumbs brushing the swell of her breasts. “You so fuckin’ pretty.”

Cherise felt her cheeks heat, but before she could say anything, his lips were on her collarbone, then lower, tracing the edge of her bra.

"You gon’ let me taste these, baby girl?" he murmured, his teeth gently tugging at the strap of her bra.

He didn’t wait for her to answer.

His hands reached behind her, expertly unhooking her bra and sliding it off her shoulders. The cool air kissed her bare skin for only a second before his lips replaced it, warm and wet as he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.

"Ohhh… fuck," Cherise moaned, her back arching as his tongue swirled over the sensitive bud.

"Mmm, that’s it, pretty girl…" Jey’s voice was muffled as he moved to the other side, his teeth grazing her nipple before biting down just hard enough to make her gasp. "You sound so pretty, mama. I could listen to you all night."

His hands gripped her hips, grinding her against the hard length straining beneath his sweatpants.  "You feel that, baby?  That’s all you."

"Jey…" Cherise whimpered, rolling her hips against him as heat pooled low in her stomach.

"You so fuckin’ soft, mama…" His hands slid lower, gripping her ass firmly before smacking it hard, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment. "And you move so good for me, damn."

Her nails dragged across his chest, tugging at his hoodie.  "This ain’t fair," she breathed, her voice shaky.  "Take this off."

"Whatever you want, baby girl." Jey leaned back, yanking the hoodie over his head in one fluid motion, leaving his chest bare.

Cherise’s eyes roamed over him, taking in the broad planes of his chest, the smooth expanse of his tanned brown skin, the tribal art that decorated over his pecs, torso and arms. "You done lookin’, or you tryna touch on my tattoos?” he teased, his grin wide and cocky.

"Shut up," she muttered, but her hands were already trailing over his chest, her nails dragging lightly down his toned stomach to trace the two palm trees inked onto his side.

Jey growled low in his throat, his hands sliding back between her thighs. "Nah, baby, I think you need a reminder who in charge tonight." He shifted her off his lap, laying her back against the couch as he knelt between her legs.

"These gotta go," he murmured, tugging at the waistband of her sweats. Cherise lifted her hips, letting him slide them down along with her panties, leaving her completely bare beneath him.

Jey sat back for a moment, his gaze devouring her.  "Goddamn, mama…" His voice was thick, low, full of want.  “You so fuckin’ beautiful.”

"You talk too much," Cherise said breathlessly, her thighs clenching under his gaze.

"Mmm, you gon’ learn to love it, mama."

And then his mouth was on her. Jey’s lips pressed against the inside of her thigh, soft and slow, his warm breath making Cherise shiver.  "Shit, baby girl… you this sweet all over?"

Cherise’s head tipped back, a soft whimper escaping her lips.  "You always this talkative?”

"Only when I got somethin’ to say, pretty girl." His grin was wicked, his tongue sliding out to tease her just barely where she wanted him.  "And I got plenty to say about this pretty lil’ pussy."

"Jey—"

"Shhh…" His hands spread her thighs wider, his lips brushing the slick heat of her folds.  "Relax for me, mama.  Let me take care of you." The first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate, dragging from her entrance to her clit, and Cherise jerked, her thighs trembling under his firm grip.

"Mmm…" Jey groaned, his tongue swirling around her swollen clit before sucking it into his mouth.  "Yeah, baby. I know that’s what you wanted.” Cherise’s hips bucked against his mouth, but Jey held her down, his broad shoulders anchoring her as he worked her with slow, messy precision.

"Oh my God…" Her fingers threaded through his short curls, pulling tight as her body arched under him.  "Jey—fuck—"

"Mmm, nah, you talked all that shit earlier, let daddy handle you,” he murmured against her, his voice sending vibrations straight to her core. Her entire body shuddered, and Jey chuckled low, dark.  "Yeah, that’s what I thought. You like that, huh, pretty girl?"

Cherise couldn’t answer, couldn’t think.

His tongue moved with purpose, flicking and circling her clit, while his fingers slid up her thigh, teasing her entrance before slipping inside.

"Shit… you so tight, mama," he groaned, pumping his fingers deep and slow.  "You been holdin’ out on me, huh?"

"F-fuck—" Cherise’s nails dragged down his scalp, her thighs trembling as heat built low in her belly.

"You close, baby girl?" Jey’s voice was gravelly, thick with lust as he curled his fingers just right.  "C’mon, mama… I wanna feel you cum for me."

"Ohhh—fuck!  Jey—daddy—"

Her body shattered, her climax crashing over her in waves, her thighs locking around his head as he stayed right there, his mouth and fingers working her through every pulse and tremor.

Jey groaned, licking her through her high, his hands sliding up her waist to steady her.  "Good girl…"

Cherise’s thighs still trembled. She could still feel the ghost of his lips against her clit, still feel the way he’d moaned against her, dragging her through that orgasm until her whole body shook.

Jey was leaned back on the couch, legs spread wide, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his bare chest rising and falling as he watched her with those hungry, hooded eyes. His lips were still slick from from tasting her, his fingers still damp with her arousal, and she swore she could see the way his cock strained against the fabric of his sweatpants, a thick, hard outline that made her mouth water.

"Shit, pretty girl," Jey murmured, his voice thick and heavy. “You lookin’ at me like you hungry or somethin’."

Cherise licked her lips, crawling between his legs, letting her hands slide up his thighs—feeling how tense he was, how much he was holding back.

"Maybe I am," she murmured, her nails scratching lightly over his skin.

Jey exhaled a slow, shaky breath, watching her closely.  "Yeah?  You gon’ take care of me, baby?"

"Mhmm." Cherise dragged her nails higher, feeling the way his thighs tensed under her touch.  "I think you earned it."

"Fuck…" He let his head tip back for a second before fixing her with that lazy, knowing smirk.  "Go on, then, baby girl.  Show me what you got."

Cherise wasted no time.

She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down just enough to free his cock, and fuck…he was big. Thick, heavy, veined and perfect, with a soft curve that made her stomach flip. The tip was flushed, already leaking, evidence of how much he wanted her.

She dragged her fingers along his length, just teasing, just watching the way his stomach tensed beneath her touch.

"Shit, baby…" Jey hissed, his hips jerking slightly as she wrapped her hand around him, stroking slow, lazy, teasing.

“I wonder how much you been thinkin’ about this,” she says, her voice smooth, sultry. She leaned in, letting her warm breath brush over his tip.

Jey exhaled a rough, shaky breath, his grip tightening on his thigh.  "You got no fuckin’ idea, baby girl.  I been dyin’ to feel that pretty mouth."

"Mmm." Cherise smirked, then dragged her tongue along the underside of his length, slow and deliberate, tasting the salt and heat of him. Jey groaned deep in his chest, his hand flexing at his side like he was resisting the urge to grab her hair.

Good.

She wanted to make him lose control…just a little.

She let her lips brush against the tip, teasing, before flicking her tongue against it, soft and slow. Then, without warning, she wrapped her mouth around him, taking him in deep all at once.

"Fuuuck—" Jey’s head slammed back against the couch, his hips bucking up as his hand flew to the back of her head. "Ohhh, shit, baby girl… just like that."

Cherise hummed around him, sucking hard, her tongue dragging along every ridge and vein, hollowing her cheeks as she took him deeper.

Jey cursed under his breath, his grip tightening in her hair.

"Shit—look at you, baby… takin’ me so fuckin’ good." His voice was rough, strained, almost desperate.

Cherise let him slip from her lips with a filthy pop, her hand stroking his length slow, teasing.  "You like that, daddy?"

Jey let out a deep, shuddering groan, his thighs shaking beneath her.  "You tryna fuckin’ kill me, baby…"

She grinned, then took him back into her mouth, sinking even lower this time, letting her tongue press against that thick vein, letting her gag just slightly when he hit the back of her throat.

"Fuck, Cherise—" Jey’s voice broke, his hips jerking up, his grip in her hair guiding her, pulling her down deeper.

She let him.

She let him fuck her mouth, let him use her the way he needed, let herself get messy, spit dripping down her chin, her throat tightening around him every time he pushed a little deeper.

"Yeah, that’s my girl," he groaned, his voice shaking, his abs flexing under her touch.  "Takin’ me so fuckin’ good, pretty girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl for me."

She moaned around him, letting her hand slip between her own legs, her fingers sliding through the mess he had already made of her.

Jey noticed immediately.

His grip tightened in her hair, pulling her back just enough to make her gasp.

"Ohhh, what you doin’ down there, huh?" His dark eyes locked onto hers, his chest rising and falling. "You gettin’ yourself off while you suck on daddy?”

Cherise bit her lip, panting, still stroking his cock slow.

"Answer me, baby." His grip on her hair tightened just a little more.

"Mhmm," she whispered, her thighs trembling.  "I can’t help it."

Jey exhaled a slow, shaky breath, then pulled her up tugging her into his lap, pressing his fingers between her thighs, groaning when he felt just how wet she was.

"Damn, mama,” he murmured, sliding his fingers through her slick folds. "You really this messy for me?"

Cherise whimpered, rocking against his hand. "You already know."

"Mmm, I do." He pushed two fingers inside her, slow and deep, making her gasp, her body clenching around him.

"Jey—fuck—"

He curled his fingers, his thumb circling her clit, his eyes locked on her face as he worked her open. "This mine now, pretty girl," he growled, his free hand gripping her throat just enough to make her shiver.  You understand me?"

Cherise could barely breathe. "Y-yes.!“

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Daddy...fuck!”

Jey groaned, his fingers fucking into her harder, faster.  "You so fuckin’ good for me, baby. You ready for this dick, huh?"

"Yes..please,”

"Good."

And then, in one fluid motion, he flipped her over onto her stomach, his hand pressing between her shoulder blades as he lined himself up behind her.

"You gon’ to take all this dick, pretty girl?" His voice was a deep, hungry rasp, his cock pressing tapped against her folds, teasing.

Cherise whimpered. “Yes, please Jey…”

"Good girl."

And then he pressed into her, and everything else just seemed to not matter. 

Jey stared up at her, his hands resting heavy on her waist, his grip just enough to remind her that he was still in control, even with her on top. "Go ‘head, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp, thick with heat. "Show me what you got."

Cherise’s thighs trembled, but she didn’t let that deter her. She lifted her hips just slightly, dragging herself up his thick, aching length before sinking down slow, deep, taking every inch.

Jey let out a deep, guttural groan, his head falling back against the couch. "Ohhh, shit, baby… you feel too fuckin’ good."

She moaned, rolling her hips, letting herself feel every inch of him stretch her open, fill her completely.  "J-Jey—"

"Mmm, you takin’ me so good, pretty girl," he murmured, his hands sliding up her thighs, gripping them, feeling them shake under his palms. "Shit, you holdin’ me tight as fuck."

Cherise bit her lip, picking up her pace, her nails digging into his chest as she bounced on his dick, each movement making her whimper. "F-fuck, you so deep—" she gasped, her head tilting back.

"Yeah, baby? I’m right where I need to be, huh?" Jey groaned, his hands gripping her hips tighter, guiding her movements. "Keep ridin’ daddy, pretty girl. Don’t run from it."

She sure as hell didn’t.

She rode him deep and slow at first, dragging it out, making him feel every damn stroke, every squeeze of her tight, warm pussy. "Shit, Cherise—" Jey cursed under his breath, his jaw clenching.  "You tryna make me lose my fuckin’ mind, huh?"

She smirked through her whimpers, rolling her hips in slow circles, making his cock drag against her most sensitive spots.  "M-maybe I am…”

Jey grunted, his abs tensing.  "Yeah?  You think you in control, huh, baby?"

Cherise gasped as he grabbed a handful of her ass, smacking it hard, the sound echoing through the room.

"Ahhh fuck—“

"Nah, keep goin’, baby," he muttered, his voice thick, strained. "I wanna see you fuck me...just like that. Make yourself cum on my dick."

Her thighs burned, her breath shuddering, but she did exactly that—rolling, grinding, bouncing on him, faster, deeper, her walls tightening around him.

"Ohhh, fuck—fuck—Jey, I’m—"

Jey groaned, his fingers bruising her waist, forcing her down onto him harder, deeper.  "Yeah, that’s right, pretty girl.  Cum on me."

Her whole body tensed.

A sharp, shattering moan spilled from her lips as her pussy pulsed around him, her orgasm ripping through her so hard her vision blurred.

Jey watched it all, felt it all.

"Fuuuuck, baby girl," he groaned, his eyes dark, watching the way she trembled, the way she soaked his cock, dripping all over his thighs.  "That’s right, baby, look at you… makin’ a whole fuckin’ mess on me."

She could feel it—her slick dripping down his length, wetting his stomach, coating his skin.

And she was still shaking, still sensitive, still gasping for air.

Jey wasn’t done.

He flipped her over onto her stomach, pressing her down against the couch, his cock still deep inside her.

"Nah, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing the back of her neck.  "We ain’t finished yet."

Cherise whimpered, her legs still shaking.  "Jey, I—"

"I got you, pretty girl," he muttered, his voice soft but commanding.  "Just take it."

He pressed back into her. Deep. Slow. Every single thrust dragging against her sensitive, overstimulated pussy, making her cry out, making her body shake.

"Jey—fuck—too much—"

"Nah, baby, you can take it," he groaned, his fingers slipping around her throat, tilting her head back just enough for his lips to brush her ear. "You my good girl, ain’t you?”

Her whole body shuddered.

"Y-yeah—fuck, yes I’m your good girl-“

"That’s right," he murmured, his pace picking up, rougher, deeper.  "Then take this dick just like that."

Cherise let out a high, wrecked moan, her nails clawing at the couch, her body on fire, shaking, so fucking close to breaking.

"You close again, pretty girl?" Jey felt the way her pussy clenched up around him, the way she got even wetter, even sloppier.

"Mhmm—fuck, I’m-!”

"Go ‘head, baby," he grunted, his grip tightening on her throat.  "Lemme feel you cum again.  Gimme one more."

Her orgasm hit her so hard she screamed his name, her body tensing up, her pussy squeezing him tight, shaking uncontrollably as she gushed all over him, soaking the couch, dripping down her thighs.

Jey groaned deep, dark, filthy.

"Goddamn, baby," he muttered, watching the mess she made.  "You just keep squirtin’ on me, huh? My baby girl so nasty huh?”

Cherise couldn’t speak.

She was twitching, whimpering, lost in the pleasure.

Jey was right behind her.

"Fuck, baby—" His grip on her waist tightened, his strokes turning rough, erratic, deep as hell.  "Shit—gimme that nut, baby—take it—"

And then he buried himself deep, groaning loud as he came, filling her up so good she felt it everywhere. He collapsed against her back, his breath ragged, heavy, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close.

Jey’s grip on her waist never loosened.  Even after they both caught their breath, after the sweat cooled between them, after the last tremor of pleasure ran through her legs—he still had her locked in his arms, his chest warm and solid against her back.

Cherise was still floating, her body heavy, satisfied, her cheek resting against Jey’s bare shoulder.  She could feel his heartbeat steady and slow beneath her fingertips.

"You still with me, baby?" Jey murmured, his lips brushing her temple, his voice thick, deep, kinda smug.

Cherise let out a slow breath, her body still boneless and warm.  "Mmm… barely."

Jey chuckled, his grip tightening, his fingers brushing slow circles into her hip.  "That’s what I like to hear."

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t move.

Didn’t wanna.

And Jey wasn’t letting go either.

For a long moment, they just lay there, tangled in each other, comfortable and quiet, with only the soft hum of the city outside filling the room.

Until Jey, being himself, opened his mouth.

"You know, you ain’t even say thank you."

Cherise’s head shot up, her brows scrunching.  "Huh?"

Jey smirked down at her, looking too damn pleased with himself.  "I mean, I just rocked your lil’ world, baby.  A ‘thank you, Daddy’ would be real nice."

Cherise shoved at his chest, rolling her eyes.  "Oh my God, shut up."

Jey cracked up laughing, gripping her waist before she could wriggle away.  "Aww, c’mon, baby girl.  I’m just sayin’.  Show some appreciation."

Cherise gave him a look. “Boy, I just let you nut in me and you worried about a thank you?"

Jey grinned, biting his lip.  "Mmm, yeah.  That was real generous of you."

She groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it in his face.  "You get on my damn nerves, Jey."

Jey just laughed harder, pulling the pillow away and flipping her onto her back, pinning her down.

"You love it, pretty girl," he murmured, his grin softening, his eyes lazily tracing over her face.

Cherise’s stomach flipped.

Because he looked at her different now.  Not just like he wanted her, but like he liked her.  Like he was studying her.

Like he wanted to keep her.

Her heart started beating too fast, so she rolled her eyes again and shoved at his chest.  "You gettin’ real comfortable, huh?"

Jey didn’t move, didn’t even try.  "Mmhmm." He smirked.  "You actin’ like you ain’t just gimme your soul five minutes ago."

Cherise gasped, pushing him harder.  "Jey—shut the hell up!"

Jey was laughing, dropping his forehead against her shoulder, his broad back shaking.  "Aight, aight, baby, I’ll stop.  Damn."

Cherise huffed, but she was smiling now, her fingers brushing over the back of his neck.

Her fingers trailed across his stomach, her nails lightly scratching over the tribal ink that stretched down to his side, tracing every sharp line and intricate detail.

"I always loved your tattoos," she murmured, her voice soft in the quiet. "But I never got a real good look before."

Jey smirked, his voice now in a softer tone. “Yeah? You a fan of ‘em, mama?”

“I think they’re beautiful,” she whispers, dragging her nails up his arm now, following the curve of the ink that stretched over his thick bicep. Her fingers stopped on his bicep, tracing over the butterfly inked inside it.

Jey hummed, his eyes flicking down to where she was touching.  "That one caught your eye, huh?"

"Yeah," Cherise murmured, her thumb brushing over the design.  It stood out from the rest—softer, more delicate than the other bold tribal ink on his body.  "What’s the story behind it?"

Jey was quiet for a beat, his fingers playing with the ends of her braids.

"That one’s personal," he said finally, his voice softer.  "Most of my ink is family shit, tribal heritage… but the butterfly?" He exhaled, his gaze distant.  "That one’s just for me."

Cherise didn’t press. She just traced it again, softer this time.

"The butterfly…" He licked his lips, gazing up at the ceiling like he was choosing his words carefully.  "I got it after a real… rough time in my life. Before I broke out as a singles wrestler, before the Bloodline shit, before everything. I was just… lost."

Cherise listened intently, her fingers still brushing over the ink.

Jey exhaled slowly.

"I had to change.  Had to break out of some old shit, get my mind right.  I told myself I wasn’t gon’ stay stuck in my past, in my own doubts. That I was gon’ transform into the man I wanted to be."

He glanced at her, then back at the ceiling.

"The butterfly’s for that. A reminder that I ain’t that same person no more."

Cherise’s chest tightened.

She understood.

More than he knew.

She was quiet for a moment, then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inked skin.

Jey stilled for a moment.

“You’re somethin’ else you know that right?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Only you would be the person to get me all sentimental and shit.” Cherise just grinned softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Maybe that was my plan all along.”

Jey hummed, his arms tightening around her, his fingers brushing her lower back.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"Aight, baby girl, as much as I love layin’ here wit’ you naked and sweaty, we need to hit that shower ‘fore we get stuck to this couch."

Cherise snorted, smacking his chest.  "Ew, don’t say it like that."

♡

Ten minutes later, they were freshly showered, Cherise in one of her oversized t-shirts, Jey in nothing but his boxers, both curled up in her bed.

Cherise lay on her stomach, twisting a section of her damp braids, while Jey lay on his back, one arm slung over his forehead, the other lazily stroking up and down her back.

"You really just popped up at my job," she murmured, glancing at him.

Jey smirked, eyes half-lidded.  "And?"

Cherise rolled her eyes, biting back a smile.  "And you real bold, Joshua."

Jey grinned, his dimples deep.  "You liked it, though."

She didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

He already knew.

After a moment, she shifted, laying her head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

Jey’s hand slid into her hair, playing with the braids at the nape of her neck.

They lay there in silence for a minute, just breathing each other in.

"You gon’ let me see you outside the club again?" Jey finally asked, his voice low, careful.

Cherise hesitated, her fingers tracing the ink on his chest.

"Maybe," she murmured. “"I don’t usually do this."

Jey tilted his head, eyes heavy-lidded as he watched her.  "What, let dudes blow your back out then sleep in your bed?"

Cherise burst out laughing, shoving his chest. "Shut up, dumbass."

Jey chuckled, gripping her wrist before she could pull away, pulling her right back where she was.

"That ain’t what I meant," she muttered, biting her lip.

Jey’s fingers hooked beneath her chin, tilting her face up to his.  "Then tell me what you meant, baby."

Cherise hesitated once again.

She didn’t know how to explain it.

How she never really let people get close, how her bed was usually just hers, how she didn’t even let dudes stick around long enough to see her without her stripper persona wrapped around her like armor.

How it felt different with him.

Like her walls weren’t up the way they should’ve been.

Jey must've seen something on her face, because he stroked his thumb along her bottom lip, soft, slow.

"You think too much Cherise,” he murmured, leaning down, brushing his lips against hers.

Cherise exhaled a slow breath, letting herself sink into him, letting herself kiss him back.

This one was different.

Slow.  Deep.  Lazy.

Like they had all the time in the world.

Jey groaned softly into her mouth, his hand slipping under her t-shirt, resting on her bare waist.  Not to start something. Just to feel her.

To keep her right there.

"Mmm," Cherise hummed, her lips brushing his as she pulled back.  "You always this affectionate?"

Jey smirked, his fingers stroking her skin. “Only with girls I like."

Cherise rolled her eyes.  "Mmm. You run game on all your little stripper crushes like this?" Jey chuckled, gripping her hip, squeezing just enough to make her squirm. "Ain’t my fault you special, baby girl," he murmured.

Cherise’s stomach flipped, but she played it off, trailing her fingers over the butterfly on his bicep again.

Jey watched her, his eyes heavy with something unreadable.

"You really like that tattoo, huh?" he murmured.

Cherise shrugged, running her nails lightly over the ink.  "I like what it means to you."

Jey let out a slow breath, gripping her thigh, pulling her even closer.

"You know…you remind me of it.” he said suddenly.

Cherise blinked, tilting her head.  "What?"

Jey smirked, pressing his lips to her temple, lingering there for a beat.

"You the same way, pretty girl," he murmured, his voice low, smooth.  "Tryna act like you ain’t changed, but I bet you ain’t the same girl you was a few years ago, huh?"

Cherise’s breath hitched.

He wasn’t wrong.

She just didn’t think he’d see through her so easily.

She swallowed, her nails grazing his stomach, her voice quieter now.  "And who do you think I am now?"

Jey didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he rolled her onto her back, leaning over her, his body caging hers in, one hand propped by her head, the other still gripping her thigh.

His gaze was steady, unflinching.

"I think you a woman who knows what she wants,” he said, voice low, deep, thick with something that made her heart skip a beat. "I think you smart, I think you strong as hell, I think you way too fine for your own damn good, and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Cherise bit her lip, her pulse skittering beneath her skin.

Jey smirked, leaning in, his nose brushing hers.

"And I think you vibin’ with me," he murmured, his lips grazing hers.  "Even if you don’t wanna admit it."

Cherise exhaled a slow breath, her fingers sliding into his curls, gripping just enough to make him groan.

"I might be," she whispered.

Jey grinned, kissing her forehead, his hand sliding higher up her thigh.

"Mmm. Guess I’ma have to stick around and find out then, huh?"

Cherise smirked, tugging his face closer.

"Guess so."

taglist: @bebesobrielo @zillasvilla @harmshake @amandairene88 @pr0tost4r @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @4milly @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @bloodlinesbabe93 @punksyeet @xbriexx @li-da-savage @partypoison00 @theusotwinzcom @fearlesschimera @luvrsluxe @kiki1704 @chasssssworld @a6mberr @empressdede @clubsoft @ctinadiva @acknowledge-reigns @queeny23 @ariiaellbtheedonn @luuvprincess @brianochka @jeyssidepiece @christinabae @uceyliyahh @sharmelasworld @thevenussapphic @key05marie @trentybenty

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[gingerswagfreckles]

Every time something overwhelmingly horrible happens to Jews I look through hundreds of my notes to see if anyone, anyone at all, is waking up from the trance they've been in and realizing it's time to say something in defense of Jews.

And the answer every single time is no. There's literally no one.

[nephyria]

Wanted to address this really quick, because I think it’s so so important, actually. If anyone has questions or comments on this, please put it into my ask box rather than on this post, for reasons I hope will become immediately evident.

In short: Yes! Exactly! That is a serious factor in why Tahiry was targeted, and it is why so many other women could’ve met the same fate. That particular tag and that pair of words is why I was so worried her campaign wouldn’t get support, and why I felt it was important to direct attention not only to her funeral campaign, but linked news articles for people who wanted to know about her life.

That particular tag? That set of words? That’s Also part of the reason why I didn’t put it directly in the text more than once, and had to hide it behind hyperlinks. It’s why this screencap doesn’t have alt text (and PLEASE do not add any), and why I’m being so evasive in this reply. If I had said EITHER of those things, three things could’ve happened, either one by one or simultaneously:

The post would be immediately hidden from tags and moderated by Tumblr’s algorithm or moderation team. They do not have good tolerance policies. They do not have good algorithms. I have several photos of beaches that nobody can look at because it’s presumed to be skin. This could also shadow ban my account.

The post would be ignored by the user base. As much as I’d like to say that people here have different feelings about Tahiry’s job than the general population, that often isn’t the case. Even in progressive spaces, her profession is highly stigmatized and shunned.

The post would devolve into discourse. I don’t want that for her. I think her family deserves to have their needs focused on, and commemorating her placed front and center. In one article, her family requested that nobody focus on her job, because they knew the kind of value people would place on her and her coworkers: absolutely nothing. They didn’t want to have to plead for her humanity and make excuses for her. It’s heartbreaking that they felt they needed to do that.

It sucks that we can’t talk about it openly. It sucks that I can’t fully acknowledge her circumstances without losing traction. All I can hope is that people can extrapolate and connect the dots. All I can do is hope that people will remember her as her whole self and think, “she was so important, and now she’s gone. I never want this to happen to anyone else.”

I see a lot of people bringing attention to Sam Nordquist's murder, and the fundraiser for his funeral. What he went through was horrible, and I wish he'd experienced this kind of support in life as well. Thank you to the community and our allies for speaking up for him.

Around the same time the news about his murder was breaking, a Black trans woman was also murdered in my neck of the woods. Her name was Tahiry Broom. Her family says she loved making people laugh, that she was full of energy and confidence. She was only 29.

Her murderer called 33 sex workers, several of whom were also trans women. He had no money on him. He intended to rob and/or kill at least one woman that day, who he felt society wouldn't rally for or miss. She was just the woman who fell into that category, for him.

Please donate to the GoFundMe organized by her aunt, Patricia Bender. Tahiry deserved so much better. She deserved a full life. Her family is trying to make sure she's surrounded by love in death. From the date of this post (Feb. 18, 2025), it's 4 days until her service (Feb. 22, 2025).

[archangeldyke-all]

ANGELLLL hear me out, club mom getting hit on at work🫡🫡🫡

AEWFHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

men and minors dni

the thing is, you don't even notice it's happening.

nobody comes to a strip club and to flirt with the clothed people. especially not when those clothed people are spending their evenings kicking out touchy-feely customers and cutting off heavy drinkers. you're the resident buzzkill, that's literally half of your job. you are not the main attraction here.

so, you assume this woman's just chatty, just one of those people who'll talk to anyone. you don't even remember her name, but she's been chatting casually with you all night. you know she works in the mines. you know she's here for her buddy's birthday party. you know her favorite drink is vodka sprite. she says she likes the bubbles.

you don't even consider that she's flirting with you until cherry catches your eye across the club and frowns. after so many years working in the loud-ass club, you and cherry have become experts at reading-lips. what? you mouth.

cherry rolls her eyes. don't let sevika see you.

you frown in confusion. why? she loves these pants on me.

cherry laughs then nods toward the locker room. you huff and follow after her.

"what?" you ask.

"that lady's flirting with you mom, don't be stupid."

you burst into laughter. "why the fuck would she be flirting with me?!"

"you said the same thing about sevika on her first night here, and now look at the two of you." cherry says.

you frown. "well, yeah, but i like sevika."

cherry laughs. "and she likes you too. enough to have married you. which is why you need to steer clear of flirty-pants over there. you're gonna make your wife jealous."

the idea makes you laugh, but cherry looks dead serious. you frown in contemplation, and she kisses your cheek before heading back onto the floor.

you know sevika's the most loyal wife in the world, and sevika has full faith in your loyalty to her. she has to, seeing as the other half of your job is keeping a bunch of half-naked girls happy.

plus, flirting is obvious... right? flirting is a lower lip bitten, a heavy, calculating, lingering gaze on your hands as you work. flirting is bantering until you're too busy kissing to argue, it's sparkly grey eyes wide with lust, and giggles that sound like music.

it's not chatting about beer.

you head back out to the club only to run into ms. flirty pants herself.

"oh shit! hey, i was lookin' for you." she giggles. you frown.

"is there something i can help you with?" you ask. maybe she needs help with the atm machine-- it's been on the fritz lately.

"no, no, i was just... well, i got to talkin' to that bartender bimbo about you," you frown at the description of trinity, "and she mentioned that you're into the local music scene."

your shoulders sag in relief. she's not coming onto you, she's looking for a gig. "oh, yeah, love it. sadly, we're not lookin' for any more dj's at the moment, but if we ever have an opening--"

flirty pants cuts you off with a laugh, one of her hands landing on your shoulder. your stomach sours. "no, no, not that! god, i wish i was a musician. no, i got two tickets to this battle of the bands thing happening--"

"oh." you mutter. "no thank you." you say, enunciating each word clearly as you can over the music and firmly removing her hand from your shoulder.

you brush past her, making a bee line toward the bar.

"is that bitch flirting with you?!" trinity gasps. you groan.

"relax about it, would you?"

"relax!? mom, she's trying to break you and papa sev up!"

"you're so dram-- ew, papa sev?" you groan. "that's the worst one yet."

trinity laughs and pours you a shot. "here. drink."

you down the shot and sigh. "i'm wearing my ring and everything!" you whine. "i-i'm in this frumpy, stinky sweatsuit!"

trinity laughs. "i wasn't gonna say anything--"

you roll your eyes. "it's laundry day, okay?" trinity giggles. "but you're just proving my point. i am not the person to flirt with in this building!"

"sevika did." trinity points out. you groan.

"i looked good that night and sevika..." you trail off, the liquor hitting you and a warm fondness bubbling up in your tummy at the thought of your wife. trinity groans.

"ugh, mom, keep it in your pants."

you snort and roll your eyes. "i didn't mind sevika flirting with me. i mind this. this is awkward and horrible. what do i do?"

trinity shoves another shot under your chin. "drink this and tell her to fuck off. wave the ring in her face."

you drink the shot and cringe, then pat trinity's shoulder. "are you okay? have you taken your break yet?"

she laughs and rolls her eyes. "i'm good mom. let 'er down easy, then tell 'er if she's got money i'll let 'er flirt with me allllll night." trinity says.

you snort and shake your head, turning around to do that.

flirty-pants is leering at you from across the club. you groan, roll your eyes, then march over to her.

"there you are, pretty thing. had me thinking you were runnin' from me."

"right. about that--"

"don't tell me you're fuckin' married or somethin'--" you hold your hand up to show her your ring. she sags. "oh c'mon. that shit's fake, right?"

you scoff. "what?"

"'s a fake ring you wear at work so you don't get hit on."

you blink. "n-no! what the fuck?"

"wait... you're really married?"

"yes. she is."

you cringe and turn around, your wife standing behind you and glaring daggers at poor flirty-pants. you open your mouth to explain, but sevika simply reaches out and pulls you in for a nasty kiss by the front of your frumpy sweatshirt.

you sigh against her lips, letting her hands circle your waist, her leg shoved between yours, her tongue brushing your lips. you moan against her and she hums in response, walking you back until you're pinned to the wall.

"fuck, okay, i get it. sorry." flirty-pants mutters before walking off.

you snort a bit at her words, then reach up to thread your hands through sevika's hair, tugging enough to make her growl.

eventually she pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips. you grin at her. "well, hello."

she snorts. "cherry waved me down when i got here and told me i needed to 'mark my territory.'" sevika explains. you giggle.

"i was handling it... but your way was a little more efficient."

sevika swoops in to kiss you again, much sweeter and softer this time. "hi, baby."

"hi. how was work?" you ask as you scratch her scalp. sevika purrs in your hold. you nuzzle your nose against hers.

"horrible. think we can leave the girls to fend for themselves for the rest of the night? i wanna take you home and mark my territory some more."

you cackle and kiss the tip of sevika's nose. "yeah, i think they'll be alright."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

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@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

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taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha

[tvlandofficiall]

in general i think spamton's entire situation from an outside perspective is so interesting. we get a little of it from the addisons, but they're still somewhat in spamton's inner circle. they weren't friends — more like coworkers — but they did know him beforehand. they heard him run his mouth about becoming a big shot; they encountered scattered fragments of the full story firsthand. but from the perspective of everyday darkners in the cyber world spamton was a nobody that rose to instant fame overnight and lost that fame just as suddenly with zero reason given as to why; and then after the fact every single person in his circle started acting as though he never existed. you try to start some small talk with a shoe salesperson about it and they answer you only with "spamton? ...we don't talk about that around here." you try to find some old merchandise of his and all of the evidence that it was branded as his has been methodically cut off. and it's not like you can ask the lightners why they decided to pour all their attention on him and then drop him all at once. that happens to darkners all the time — but there's something else going on here that makes you think this wasn't just spamton's battery running dry. he wasn't just worn out. you know what that looks like. it isn't this.

[noxiatoxia]

Mikan wants to be "forgiven"...but what does that really mean?

Hello. This is something that has been quietly on my mind for a while.

It's something shown in the game in chapter 3. Mikan really focuses in on "being forgiven".

And while not a mistranslation per se, I think it's inaccurate to what is happening in the game.

I've talked about this extensively - the fact ENG DR team has a very bad habit of translating things literally or very directly. This leads to either clunky dialogue, missed nuances, or just incorrect interpretations sometimes.

I think this in particular falls somewhere between 2 and 3. I'll explain why.

If translated literally, the English text works just fine, but as with a lot of literal translation, it misses the "feeling" of what was trying to be conveyed. If you want my translation...

Mikan: Won't someone just tell me what I did wrong!? Why won't anyone just let it be already!?

While Mikan doesn't say "What did I do wrong", there is a subtle emphasis on her talking about herself...I feel like it's a more natural way to word what is essentially "What is it that I did differently [to warrant this]?"

Anyways, to the main point...I hope you can kind of see what I'm getting at.

"Forgive" feels like...Mikan is seeking people to "pardon" her for perceived wrong-doings. And while not untrue I would say, the way Mikan specifically uses the word and the context it is in, to me, feels much more like she is using it like "allow" or "excuse".

Let me use another example to better explain myself.

The last line to me reads like Mikan needed this person to pardon her for being born; for existing. That her existence in and of itself was a mistake or wrong-doing that needed to be forgiven.

I think that's missing the point, though.

Mikan: They allowed me to exist.

See, the point is...Mikan is a very troubled person. She admits as much in the freetime events that wherever she goes, she is horribly bullied just for existing. That she hated being bullied, but even more she hates being forgotten.

She emphasizes her beloved (Junko) did not hate her, and in fact allowed her presence...

This line was heavily misread, I think. 許して受け入れて was read as two verbs in one sentence (which it is) but as "forgive and accept" which is incorrect to what it means. It's closer to "they tolerated me" (like, accepting and moving on). Which comes to how I would translate it, and my final point:

Mikan: They accepted me for who I am.

This is why I think the "forgive" thing is not only incorrect, but actually opposite of what this scene was going for. Junko did not "forgive" Mikan for the sin of existing. Rather, she was the only person who seemed to not mind that she existed, that didn't bully or ignore her.

She didn't "forgive" Mikan, she allowed her to be herself.

Another reason DR3 totally missed the mark, but I digress...

I guess while I'm on the topic, we all know that scene where Mikan has a little back-and-forth with Nagito...that, too, was misrepresented somewhat.

Putting the English here just for comparison sake. And while not the worst translation in the world, it certainly isn't how I would go about it.

Nagito: I don't...really get what you're trying to say... Mikan: Oh, you don't? (lit: you don't understand?) Mikan: Is that because you don't have any loved ones in your life? Mikan: Is it because there's no one who will love you?* Mikan: Oh, you poor thing...I feel very sorry for you.

*Literally speaking, she says "Is it because you are a person nobody allows" but considering the context thus far, it's easy to conclude she means that there's no one who will love/accept him for who he is.

*Adding "also" to the line is a mistranslation, I believe. も means also but it is also used for emphasis, which I think it is here. Not that it's impossible Mikan is using it to say "also", but in these lines of dialogue she is intentionally contrasting how she does have someone who loves her and that she can love, so to then identify a similarity between her and Nagito, I think, wouldn't make much sense...

Mikan is one of my favorite characters, so little details like this matter a lot to me.

[read-marx-and-lenin]

>so why should I believe you would tolerate the dissent of others if they came into contradiction with your own goals? I won't. I shouldn't have to let the collective restrict my behavior.

I never said anything about the collective here. What would you do if your desires contradicted the desires of another individual egoist? How would your egoist society deal with two people wanting to build a house in the same spot?

If we were to create a[n industrial] socialist system, the workers would have to work according to the votes of the worker's collective, and not by their own autonomy. They would be beholden to governmental regulation and policy. [...] autonomy in the labor that consumes so much of primitive time is more autonomous than Industrial labor

So in your mind, having to perform arduous subsistence labor as an isolated individual is more autonomous than collective labor because you don't have to meet the standards of other people? It doesn't matter whether or not those standards are decided upon democratically, because as long as there are standards then you don't have the freedom to fall short of them?

Individual subsistence labor still has standards you must meet. You aren't evading standards by casting off the shackles of government regulation. If your individual subsistence labor does not provide you with an adequate means of subsistence, then you will get sick or die. You are not escaping consequences by swapping out collective labor for individual labor, you are in fact increasing those consequences to a dire extent. Under a socialist system, if you fuck up at work you aren't going to starve to death.

>If you work together with other people to achieve a shared goal, how is that less fulfilling than working alone to achieve the same goal? Because it's something that you can be proud of. It's something entirely of your creation, something that you poured your individual effort into. Nobody else has claim to it.

Do you think people have never been proud of collective achievements? Not only are you arbitrarily declaring pride as a virtue in and of itself, you are arbitrarily positioning collective pride as lesser than individual pride. In any case, I'm perfectly content with sacrificing individual pride if it means people aren't going to starve to death because people decided farming wasn't fulfilling and creative enough.

>You can't just say "let everyone do whatever they want" because that leads to intractable contradictions It doesn't lead to contradictions, since all that restricts one's freedom will be that individual's might.

Then it still leads to contradictions, it's just that those contradictions will be solved by duels or something stupid like that. So you admit that conflict resolution under an egoist society is defined by "might makes right", then?

>You're the one who said "pre-industrial" in the first place. You're the one talking about the virtues of "primitive labor". If you don't want to abandon industry, then what do you want? You said that I said advancing past capitalism requires abandonment of industrialism. I did not say this, and so I corrected you. I want to return to pre-industrial forms of production. You keep putting words in my mouth. [...] I am advocating for a return to pre-industrial forms of technology.

I'm not trying to put words in your mouth, I merely misunderstood your position. Now it is more clear: you believe that the material base of society can be regressed while the ideological superstructure can be progressed, that is to say, revolutionarily transformed into something different and new. So my question would be this: why do you think that this is the case? What reason do you have to believe the superstructure is independent of the base rather than dependent on it?

In the Soviet Union, the leader was only replaced after he died. Every time. If it was true it was a democracy, it's a real coincidence that every time the leader was so great that the people just kept electing him every time. [...] The DPRK is ruled by one family and has been since its conception. The government does not permit people to leave at all. That's why the only people that come out are defectors. Every piece of media that comes from the DPRK praises Kim Jong Un and his clan as God-like figures. This is what THEY say.

You are repeating right-wing anti-communist propaganda that has no basis in reality. You still do not have even a basic understanding of these countries, and you have clearly not looked at the material I gave you regarding them. I'm not going to be arguing on this front with you any more until you show me that you have taken the effort to educate yourself.

You can also have an organized, decentralized revolution. You just don't have to centralize it with a vanguard controlling the whole thing.

You can have that, but the problem is when such a thing has been attempted in the past, it has routinely failed to achieve its goals. Besides, it was never the case that the vanguard "controlled the whole thing". A party does not become the vanguard by forcing itself on the people, it becomes the vanguard when the people seek its guidance and support over the guidance and support of other parties.

>I called egoism misanthropic because it is based on the notion that dependence on other people limits and degrades the individual. I want to do X. I'm dependent on Person A for Y. Person A will withhold Y for if I do X. I can't do X. Dependence allows for coercion. That's not a difficult or misanthropic idea.

I wasn't talking about dependence on another individual person, I was talking about dependence on other people in general. If a person is not individually responsible for the whole of their own means of subsistence, then that means they are dependent on others for some portion of it. Yes, that means there exists a potential for coercion if and when one person is dependent on others for some necessary good. That potential should be mitigated in order to prevent abuse. That's why, for instance, Marx and Engels advocated for the abolition of the family.

But in your individual egoist society built around might makes right, you have not eliminated coercion. On the contrary, you have made it more blatant and violent by eliminating any social means of mitigating and preventing coercion and abuse.

>How would your individual cottage artisans produce insulin? I'm obviously aware that we'd have to give up modern medicine for this, I just think it's worth it. I'm not an idiot; I know that you can't make insulin by yourself. [...] The level of technology available in this theoretical world would not require the level of specialization needed for medicinal functions in today's society.

I think you would change your mind on that pretty quickly if you were diabetic. Who are you to make this decision for the millions of people who do need advanced drugs in order to survive? Why are their lives forfeit just because you get upset when someone asks you to do something?

I also don't think that specialization is inherently bad. Some level of it could be non-coercieve, but the hyper-specialization of all individuals in today's society creates such levels of hyper-interdependence that is incomparable to such specialization in said ideal pre-industrial world.

You put the prefix "hyper" in front of these words, but you have yet to define what it means in the context. What makes hyper-specialization and hyper-interdependence qualitatively different from normal specialization and normal interdependence?

alright.

I'll start with Lenin first, then move to Marx. Lenin was an autocrat and a dictator. There's no way around it. He was unelected and created a one-party state. This was due to the fact that the revolution was led by a vanguard, which the members of, once they succeeded in overthrowing the old government, could easily set up a self-serving dictatorship. He's not a Marxist, and he's not a Socialist.

Since Lenin obviously did not in any way uphold the vision of Marx, I'll tackle him separately. A (stateless) communist society does eliminate many hierarchies, but leaves the most coercive systems untouched. Those being: the hierarchy of the collective over the individual and that coercion required of industrialism. In a commune, one's individual vote is negligible, since the outcome is only affected by one person's vote in very rare circumstances. Once the votes are tallied, the individual is expected to conform to the decisions of the majority, and to accept the commune's laws and customs. This leads to the individual becoming feeling helpless and weak.

Secondly, Marxism fails to address the coercion required to make an industrial society function. In order to have products, you must have a payroll of workers to stand where they are told to stand and do what they are told to do and go home and show up to work when they are told to do it. Instead of working towards goals that are immediate, which directly affect one's condition (such as building a house to live in), one must do a task or set of tasks that ultimately has little to do directly with one's own material well-being. Instead, the hyperspecialized work required in an industrial society is made livable indirectly via trade. This leads to a dependence on the industrial system as a whole, which requires a massive amount of cohesion to function.

Humans are no longer permitted to act autonomously since doing so would be a hindrance to the system. Behaviors which are not conducive to the system are disallowed, but all unimportant facets of our life which do not interfere with the functioning of the system are permitted to grow within said limits.

Lenin was elected as Chairman of the Council of People's Commissars by the Congress of Soviets a total of nine times before his death. His position was not one elected by the people directly, but rather he was elected by the congressional representatives of the soviets who were themselves elected by the people. You can argue that his position should have been directly elected if you want, but you cannot say he was unelected. Regardless, while the Chairman of the CPC was the head of government of the RSFSR, and later the Soviet Union, the CPC was not a one-person council and the council as a whole was subordinate to the Central Executive Committee, which was in turn subordinate to the Congress of Soviets. Lenin was not an autocrat or a dictator; he did not hold sole legal authority and the Soviet government had numerous checks and balances.

I see no reason to believe a vanguard party or a one-party state is undemocratic. The USSR was a dictatorship, but not a dictatorship of one person. It was a dictatorship of the proletariat, as the bourgeoisie were stripped of the right to vote and to be elected. You can object to this if you like, but I personally don't think that was a bad decision.

You seem to be arguing that Lenin was neither Marxist nor socialist because the nascent Soviet Union was not yet classless or stateless. Yet why should it have been expected to be? Communism is not something that can be achieved overnight, or even in one generation. In the meantime, there must be some mechanism for suppressing and overthrowing the bourgeoisie. No matter how democratic, how horizontal, and how people-oriented that mechanism is, it still constitutes a state insofar as it constitutes an organ for the oppression of one class by another. Unless you are arguing that the rights of the bourgeoisie should be maintained and protected, you cannot escape this fact.

At the point of achieving a stateless, classless communist society, I don't see why decision-making would necessarily be performed through simple majority vote. While it's rather pointless in my mind to be speculating about how a hypothetical communist society of the future might function, I think it's safe to say they'd be far more capable of exploring alternative forms of decision-making than we are now. In any case, the question of how a future communist society might function is entirely separate from questions of past and present systems of government.

You are right to point out that the industrial mode of production requires collective and specialized activity in order to function, but I fail to see what the alternative is. Humans are a social animal, our production has always been collective and we have always benefited from specialization in labor. The advancement in industry has made possible a reduction in socially necessary labor time, not an increase. It is capitalism and the profit motive that has mandated long hours and low autonomy in the workplace, not industry itself.

People are not inherently stupid or self-centered. They can understand very well the relationship between one sector of industry and another. You do not need to be building a house to understand how, for instance, the nails you are manufacturing will be used to build houses and other goods. You do not need to be manufacturing nails to understand how the iron you are mining will be used to make nails and other goods. The idea that it is alienating to be engaged in a task that is socially beneficial rather than merely individually beneficial is absurd.

You talk about social cohesion as if it is impossible or undesirable. But again, what is the alternative? An incoherent, fragmented society? No society at all, and people just fend for themselves as individuals? I fail to see how anything less than social cohesion is desirable.

You say that industrial society is coercive and prevents people from acting autonomously. I say, what does it mean to act autonomously? Humans must satisfy our basic needs before we can think about engaging in autonomous activity. If you are starving, you are compelled to seek food. If you are freezing, you are compelled to seek shelter. Individual freedom is subordinate to our material conditions, and only through improving our material conditions can we satisfy our basic needs and guarantee individual freedom.

If we are to have a society where the individual freedoms of everyone are maximized, then we must have a society which guarantees everyone their basic needs. Food, shelter, clothing, medicine, education, transportation, communication, etc. All of these must be secured before a person has full freedom to act autonomously. Improving the quality of these things and the efficiency of their production improves the standard of living and reduces socially necessary labor time, which allows for greater degrees of freedom.

You say behaviors which are not conducive to the system are disallowed. I do not necessarily disagree, but I feel you are intentionally obscuring the nature of such behaviors. What is “the system” here? The system is society. So a behavior not conducive to society is an anti-social behavior, a behavior that impedes or harms other members of society. Why should these behaviors be allowed? Is it maximizing autonomy and freedom to allow someone to steal or rape or murder with impunity? No, it is merely trading someone else's freedom and autonomy for your own.

You can certainly maximize your own freedom and autonomy at the expense of others, but if we are to live in a society where the freedom and autonomy of everyone is to be maximized, then there must be certain limits to individual behavior for the sake of others. Maybe someday humanity will evolve to a state where one can live in their own private world with maximum freedom to do as they please without worrying about impacting others, but until that day we will have to live in a society with other people and the social restrictions that come with that. Personally, I don't think it's such a burden to have to care about other people.

Society as it stands today is indeed imperfect and often oppressive. Socialist states in the past and present have yet to achieve the classlessness and statelessness that marks higher-stage socialism, i.e. communism. They too are imperfect and have restricted people's behavior in various ways, some I would argue are necessary, and some I would argue are unnecessary. However, I believe that socialism offers us the greatest opportunity to improve society as a whole and liberate humanity from oppressive structures. I believe that capitalism remains the central impediment to the advancement of society and the pursuit of human freedom. I believe that a vanguard party and a dictatorship of the proletariat have been the most effective means of combating the bourgeoisie so far. And I believe that the advancement of science and industry has been the most effective means of securing and improving the basic needs of the people as a whole.

My question to you remains: what is the alternative? You can criticize all you want, and thoughtful and rational critique of all things is both important and beneficial, but unless you have an alternative to socialist revolution and industrial society, then you're just throwing the baby out with the bathwater. How are we to combat the bourgeoisie without a vanguard or a state? How are we to provide people with their basic needs without industrial production?

[seat-safety-switch]

Every so often, I hear constituents complaining about me. They march on my palatial strip-mall office and demand reforms. They ask when I'm up for re-election. Folks, I'm here to tell you that you didn't elect me at all. I'm not actually a real-ass politician. Come inside, it's cold, and let me explain. Christophyr, fire up the Mr. Coffee, these sons of bitches deserve a decent brew after what their actual politicians are putting them through.

It all started a couple years ago, on a night much like tonight, when I noticed that big corporations are really sloppy with how they pay their invoices. A friend of mine was skimming tons of money off the Mercurial Office Supply Corporation by simply showing up and asking to be paid for plumbing work he didn't do. Stood to reason, maybe they'd be sloppy with how they'd pay their bribes too. I noticed that they gave a lot of money to the local re-election campaign, so I decided to run for office too.

Now, running for office is expensive. That's part of how they keep the common man out of it. You've gotta get all those signatures, take all those meetings, give all those speeches. Don't have time for that, because I'm busy playing with remote-controlled cars in the parking lot behind this office most of the time (Helen cheats, don't trust her to not cork a battery pack,) and the rest of the time I'm calling big-business donors and asking for re-election funds. You wouldn't believe how easy it is: just prattle off some low-tax nonsense, talk about "innovation," and mention that you sure would like them to send you ten thousand dollars. Then they do it, without even checking if you're actually a sitting politician.

Now, is it fraud? No. Politicians write the rules, and if they were going to jail just because they did a little thing like "take money from shady mega-corporations and then not do what they want," then every single one of them would be in jail. Nobody is ever really happy with what they buy with the corrupt blood money, but they throw it at the thirsty politicos just in case it helps tilt things just a little bit in their favour. Lots of gambling problems in the C-suite, I'm telling you. And it's not even really a lie. I really do need that money to run for re-election: I'm the treasurer of the local small town's parent-teacher association, and competition is fierce. Nobody ever asks what my actual position is before handing over the cash, for some reason.

I hope this has been educational for all of you in the enraged, violent mob that is tweaked about some other politician's horse hockey, of which I have no control or knowledge. Please enjoy the rest of your coffees in the parking lot.

Actually. One last thing before you all leave. We've got this election coming up, and getting some small-dollar donations from all of you will really secure my grassroots bona fides. Why, you wouldn't want to be giving that money to my opponent, who will probably torture and maim your children. Whoever that opponent is, I don't have time to read the newspaper anymore. Christophyr, pass out the collection basket.

[doppel-doodles]

That illustration is making me want to slam my head against solid concrete, Art block said no, and I know when to pick my battles so fuck it we ball-

A normal post about Matthew Hallard from Poppy Playtime

I briefly mentioned this in the Jack post, the fact that I didn't think I had anything new or particularly interesting to say on Matthew as I always thought the Fandom had a lot of the bases covered.

But the more I actually thought about him, the more I wanted to talk about one thing in particular:

Let's talk about Doeys tape.

In game we find a vhs tape recorded by Doey, talking about how he almost ditched everyone in favor of running away, ultimately deciding to go back for them instead. It reveals a lot about how he truly feels about the responsibility that has been given to him.

I think it was so important to include this and the reason why is quite simple:

It humanises Matthew for me.

Why I point him out specifically is due to reasons I mentioned in my other analysis, Jack's control is mostly passive, Kevin only really comes to the forefront when he feels like there is a threat to assess or deal with and it has been confirmed that Matthew is the oldest of the children as well as having been a leader of sorts since he was still a human child, so in the tape it's basically him venting.

Which is great as it makes something crystal clear: He is not a perfect saint.

Matthew is a teenager who has been parentified from an incredibly young age, places immense pressure on himself, is suffering from more burnout than a college kid and not to mention the horror that is his current existence and life-

He doesn't WANT this responsibility, he only takes it on because nobody else will or can.

And nobody even thinks to ask him ONCE how HE is doing, no,no it's him who has to do that, he is not allowed to have breaks.

For godness sake he literally tells us in the tape that he is recording it because he feels like he can't talk to anyone about his problems!

The toys- The children having someone like Doey or more accurately Matthew is not a guarantee, it is a privilege but it's a privilege Matthew needs to!

And you rarely ever see kind characters COMPLAIN about having to be kind all the time, truly looking after everyone else drains you, it's exhausting to fulfill the needs of others, more often than not you'll have to put aside your own and when you really pull the shit end of the stick you get more complains then appreciation for your troubles.

It is such a CHORE and I think a character struggling with being so selfless actually can have such a massive impact instead of just being able to handle everything, it's that tiny bit of realism I love.

Despite how exhausted and miserable Matthew was over being stuck in this position in the end he turned back. Because he loves his friends that much, and he should get massive props for that.

And to think he still did so much but didn't think anything he did was good enough is just painful, like no honey you are enough, more than enough-

Also Poppy having once been the leader makes you think that maybe Matthew might have been hurt the most by her disappearing.

Like her leading was the closest thing to a break he ever got- and then she just up and disappears?? And it's all up to him now? Not to mention the concern? The worry??

Boy it speaks volumes that he doesn't seem to display more hostility towards her considering Poppy doesn't even EXPLAIN herself on why she left or why she couldn't come back.

He is even civil in discussing the fact that she demands for them to be okay with being blown up(also correct me if I'm wrong but didn't Poppy also include in her plan that SHE will get to live? If I heard that I would be flabbergasted.) But that's something I should discuss in another post.

For now that is everything I have about my boy, if you want to see what I have to say about other characters here is Kevin annnnnnd Jack, I'll also be adding one for Doey soon!

[kfan04]

What do you think is going on with Kaito and Romeo?

I've posted this on Reddit and now I'm posting it here so I more people see it and talk to me!

Particularly I'm interested in why Romeo seems to be so clingy with Kaito. I know that there are already some explanations — Kaito's debt and Kaito's pendant — but don't you think Romeo is putting too much effort into this?

Regarding debt: does Romeo chase around everyone with debt on the regular basis? Also, the academy is clearly full on well-off students, it would make much more sense to concentrate on them. Kaito doesn't have money and he won't somehow get them out of nowhere (Luca is another discussion).

Regarding pendant: have you noticed that Romeo is trying to convince Kaito to give him the pendant, instead of taking it away by force? Throughout the chapters he hasn't really tried to take the pendant away, although I think Romeo's more than capable of it. He is stronger than Kaito and the latter didn't have any protectors before Luca (Tohma and Jin are also not shown to be close enough to Kaito to defend him in the past). Otherwise, there must have been tons of opportunities for Romeo to hurt or kill Kaito and take away the pendant, everyone dies left and right, even when they were on the mission — little accident, minus one ghoul, nobody would've probably suspected anything. Why hasn't Romeo taken the pendant away already?

Who would go that far for the indebted guy? Or even for a pendant? It's more like Romeo's interested in Kaito being constantly around, but also, why?

Regarding Romeo's time and effort: despite being the busy man Romeo claims he is, he still finds time to regularly look around for Kaito, calling his name, and with a gun. He asks MC for Kaito's schedule — twice. He spams Kaito with messages. He locks Kaito in the cage in his private office very few people know about — this is just another level, because why. He also takes Kaito on a mission with him, when being told that was his chance to assemble the best possible team — notably, he goes for Kaito before contacting his actual friends, and also has to threaten Kaito to go with him in first place. On the mission, it's Romeo's decision to split, and both times he takes Kaito with him, also physically dragging him and just casually intimidating him along the way.

Regarding Romeo's attitude: he's the mix of tenderness and frustration when it comes to Kaito. The phrase he use to call him is Doko itta no, dete oide? which translates kinda like "Where have you gone? Come on, come out!" and is often used to talk to animals and kids. He also uses Fuji-kun, emphasising on either Kaito being his kouhai, or being on friendly terms with him. He's very touchy when it comes to Kaito — grabbing his hand, his collar, his ear, shaking his shoulders, clamping a hand over his mouth. It's not necessarily tender, but it seems that Romeo finds it absolutely natural to act towards Kaito in such way. Romeo's also often implying Kaito acts unreasonable towards him when not willing to comply, like when Kaito is hiding or running away from him, or when he doesn't want to go on the mission. One time he says something along the lines "there's more on the map than that, so just shut up and do as I say", implying it's in Kaito's interest to listen to him.

Why does Romeo seem to be convinced that Kaito should be doing as he says without asking questions?

Regarding Kaito's attitude: Kaito isn't shown to be super intimidated by Romeo. Yes, he runs away away from him, and in one voiceline he mentions he started getting chills when someone calls his name because of Romeo — so it's not like Kaito doesn't recognise Romeo as a threat. However, Kaito is constantly talking back and resisting. When talking to Romeo, Kaito openly questions his decisions, mocks him, swears at him, uses omae, simply disagrees and Romeo has to put a lot of effort to actually get Kaito to do something — and half of the time, Kaito doesn't do what is expected of him anyway. He talks to Romeo almost freely, definitely less scared than with Jin or with Tohma, or even with Ren or Jiro. Interestingly, Kaito uses Romeo-san, instead of -senpai, like with Tohma and Jin. Kaito also doesn't seem to have a clue about why Romeo is following him, but he's not interesting in figuring it out either, just "weird guy, ugh how annoying, does he ever stop".

Unlike Romeo who perceives his own actions as natural, justified as "Well I'm just collecting debt", Kaito openly talks about how strange Romeo acts towards him. Locked in the cage, he says "shut up, kidnapping creep" and "do you even realise how unhinged you sound" when Romeo says no one would save him from there... When MC says "he has certainly taken a liking to you", Kaito corrects "liking, more like stalking".

For now, no one except Luca and to some degree MC hasn't commented on Romeo's and Kaito's connection — do they know? Or do they don't care? Or both.

Regarding timeline: Kaito mentions Romeo has been on his tail for half of the year. Before that, he wasn't even in the gambling den. This lines up with the estimated time of the Clash. Does Romeo's interested in Kaito has something to do with the Clash? Did it just happen in the same time? Kaito says he has somehow avoided the Clash — he himself doesn't connect the Clash with Romeo's interest in him. Kaito doesn't seem to connect Romeo's interest with anything, implying it was sudden. It could be that the determining point of the Romeo's interest was the moment Romeo was looking at Kaito from a distance, if Kaito cannot remember any special confrontation. What doesn't line up is the warding card of Romeo standing above Kaito and looking at his pendant — judging by his expression, for the first time. Who wouldn't have remembered this situation? Another thing, Kaito mentions that he hasn't seen Romeo much before, and he wasn't even in the gambling den. So although Romeo justifies his hobby by collecting debt, he possibly wasn't that interested in collecting this debt initially, before that special point six month ago.

Regarding paperwork: Luca repays Kaito's debt in the prologue, another simple solution to Kaito repaying his debt and Romeo not having to go after him ever again. Yet Romeo claims "he still owes rate of interest, so it's not enough to buy his freedom". To which Luca replies "I'd like to see the paperwork then", and Romeo's muttering he "hates men with brain". Other than Kaito commenting on how he didn't know about the rate of interest (which could be written off as ignorance, and not necessarily as Romeo deceiving him), Romeo's comment suggests there might be something unclear with the documentation. Another important paper is the one Romeo threatens to show the MC when telling Kaito to join him on the mission. It is not the debt-related issue — MC already knows about it. It is something that Kaito feels to be embarrassed about, and something that allows Romeo to say "you really think you can say no?". In the prologue, when Romeo demands pendant, Kaito also replies with "this is one thing you will never get from me" — one thing? Does that mean Kaito agrees in some way Romeo can demand anything else? The paper which Romeo threatens to show the MC — which conditions are written there?

Let's assume that Kaito does owe Romeo more than money. What exactly is Romeo gaining in this situation? Why would he need specifically Kaito's compliance in the first place? Why Kaito of all people, of all ghouls. Okay, maybe Romeo thinks it's handy to get a guy who he can threaten to do anything. Why would he put so much energy into keeping Kaito close to him — especially on the occasions that could've used more catered to the situations ghouls, like the mission. Judging by how he addresses Kaito as "plebeian", he doesn't think Kaito's pendant connects him with the powerful family, plus he comments how Kaito doesn't know its true value. So Romeo is not after Kaito's potential prestige.

What is notable, is that Romeo is deliberately keeping Kaito close and monitors his actions.

Romeo's behaviour doesn't make sense. It especially doesn't make sense considering he is acting rationally when it comes to missions, or his income, or dealing with others, which means there is an explanation for how he acts with Kaito — my guess, it directly or indirectly includes money, or another physical value.

What are your thoughts? Have I missed something? I'd die to discuss, really. I see all these signs, but I can't really understand what it means. I know we are quite early in the story, but for the 13 chapters the story has been very consistent with the relationship between Romeo and Kaito, and Kaito's pendant. I'm super interested to know what others think!

[matchalovertrait]

Remind me again why we named her "Dulce" 🙃

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

DULCE: Thanks, Antonio.

MATTHEW: Hey, I can’t hear them! What gives?!

GUILLERMO: Turn your mics back on!

[Silence.]

MATTHEW: ...I think they muted us.

GUILLERMO: WHAT.

MATTHEW: What could they be talking about?

GUILLERMO: Maybe about the kitchen?

MATTHEW: It is a nice kitchen but she’ll get a cool one too eventually—Oh! Speaking of which...

MATTHEW: How come Hilary isn’t always sending money her way? She loves Dulce more than she loves her own children.

*START FLASHBACK*

[Restaurant employees groan.]

HILARY: Don’t whine. She could take over this place if she wanted to. Seriously, I want her on the will but Hector only wants our kids on it [scoffs]. They’re living proof that not everyone can cook.

*END FLASHBACK*

GUILLERMO: My Tía Noemí didn’t raise Dulce like that. She’ll accept a deposit every now and then, but that’s about it. Hilary is always ready to whip out her checkbook for her, though.

GUILLERMO: When the whole ordeal with the Altos went down, Hilary offered other solutions besides the partnership. She wanted to buy advertisements for Postres de Alegría, create and sell merch, and launch a “truth-based Alfonso Alto smear campaign”... whatever that last one means.

MATTHEW: Noemí and your dad declined? I’m guessing they said something like “it wouldn’t be honest work.”

GUILLERMO: Yeah. It’s kinda funny. Nobody wants Hilary’s money. The Antonio guy refused it too until she pushed him enough.

MATTHEW: Ha! It was probably a few weeks into working with Dulce when he realized he shouldn’t be doing it for free.

GUILLERMO: [Chuckles in agreement.]

DULCE: Okay I have a plan for a new route.

ANTONIO: Let’s hear it.

[Dulce whispered.]

ANTONIO: Agreed. Let the other two know.

DULCE: “Fuego.” New plan.

MATTHEW: Oh! So now you decide to turn the mic back on!!

DULCE: My bad. Anyway, what do you think of this...

DULCE: The dance floor is too unpredictable. What if we head to the laundry room, hallway, then garage?

GUILLERMO: It’s riskier cuz we don’t know if certain doors are locked, but sure.

MATTHEW: If that’s what you’re comfortable with. Just wait in the kitchen until we clear it.

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

DULCE: Okay I have some regrets. This is taking forever. Can’t we just book it to the door?

ANTONIO: Those secret agent movies you watch tend to be overexaggerated, you know? Real agents have to do a lot of waiting.

DULCE: I’m seeing that now.

ANTONIO: Okay, why don’t you make us less suspicious? Eat some of the desserts to make people think that’s why we’re secluded over here.

DULCE: After you, I don’t like sweets.

ANTONIO: No, I’m vegan.

DULCE: Dammit! I forgot. Okay well... I guess this is what a dedicated agent must do.

DULCE: Oh man.

DULCE: Agents do whatever it takes for the sake of the mission. Always. This is my moment to prove my dedication and-

MATTHEW: The coast is clear!

[Dulce sprinted to the door at the speed of light, much to Antonio’s amusement.]

[goldfades]

Could we get something with crashout queen about her upbringing, family, and background? Specifically as to why she gets so fierce and stuff, I'm thinking more of your personal head cannons if that's okay , I'd love to get to understand her as a character better 😌

ohhh i love this question bc i’ve been thinking about her backstory for a while now. like, how do you become the wnba’s resident hothead with a courtside menace for a boyfriend? it had to start somewhere. so here’s my personal little headcanon deep dive on the crash out queen’s upbringing and why she’s that girl:

first of all—new york born and raised??? that already tells you everything you need to know. like, imagine growing up in a city where you have to fight for everything—space, attention, respect. and she learned early that you either speak up or you get drowned out.

she probably grew up in one of those neighborhoods where the park courts are sacred. like, you had to prove yourself to even get a run. those courts? they don’t care if you’re a kid. you miss a shot? you’re hearing about it. you call a soft foul? “play through it.” so she learned how to talk back. learned how to win.

she wasn’t just good—she was tough. elbows out on rebounds, chirping right back at the dudes who didn’t want to pass her the ball. like, i fully believe she earned her respect the hard way. no handouts. no special treatment. just work.

her family dynamic is also so key here.

i imagine her coming from a loud, passionate family. like, the type where love is shown through roasting each other at the dinner table but god help anyone outside the family who tries it. you know the vibe—we can joke about each other, but no one else can.

she’s got older siblings who never let her win at anything. like, her older brother/sister would block her shots, steal her snacks, talk trash during pickup games. and that’s where the fire started. because when you’re the youngest, you either stay quiet or you get louder. and she chose loud.

her parents? i see her having a mom who is no-nonsense but deeply supportive. like, the type of mom who worked two jobs but still found time to pull up to every game—sitting in the stands with a folding chair, yelling louder than the coach. and a dad who taught her the game but also taught her the attitude. “if you don’t believe you’re the best on that court, why should anyone else?”

the competitive edge? the fierceness?

oh, that comes from losing. not the pretty, motivational kind of losing—but the ugly kind. and she got injured in high school at a crucial moment. maybe there were coaches who told her she was “too emotional,” “too much,” “too aggressive.”

and she took that personally.

so by the time she hit college ball, she had something to prove. every bucket, every steal, every shove—it was all part of her making sure nobody ever doubted her again. and when she hit the wnba? oh, it was on.

and she didn’t get recruited the way she thought she would.

so, uconn. the dream.

growing up in new york, uconn was it. the gold standard. the dynasty. every little girl with a basketball dream wanted to play there, and she was no different.

she worked her whole life with uconn in the back of her mind. every early morning workout, every late-night shootaround, every pickup game in the park where she had to prove herself against dudes who doubted her—all of it was fueled by the idea that one day, she’d wear that uconn jersey.

she wasn’t just good—she was great. one of the best guards in the state. fast, aggressive, unrelenting. the type of player who could take over a game and talk her talk while doing it. but there was always this whisper around her:

“she’s too fiery.” “too emotional.” “great player, but does she know how to be coached?”

and that’s where it started to hurt. because deep down, she knew what they meant. they didn’t want someone who would argue with refs or stare down opponents. they wanted someone polished. someone who fit the mold.

and as the recruitment period came around, she waited. she waited for the call from uconn. from the coach she idolized. she kept thinking, any day now.

except it never came.

instead, she got the offer from duke. and duke? duke was… complicated.

they weren’t at their peak. the program was rebuilding. they weren’t a powerhouse like uconn. people whispered that going there would be a waste of her talent. that she should hold out for a bigger offer.

but the thing about her? she wasn’t afraid of a challenge.

she was hurt—deeply—by uconn’s silence. she’d given everything with the hope of that offer, and it stung that they didn’t believe in her the way she believed in herself.

but when duke came knocking, offering her the chance to lead something new, to be the face of a rebuild? she said yes without hesitation. because if there’s one thing about her—it’s that she doesn’t run from hard things.

and the second she committed to duke, the narrative started:

“she should’ve waited.” “she’s settling.” “she’ll never win a title there.”

ohhhh, and that fueled her.

her freshman year at duke? absolute chaos.

she came in with something to prove—to herself, to uconn, to everyone. she took over from day one. dropping 30 in her first college game, flexing at the camera, talking wild on the court. the media loved the drama of it all—this fiery freshman carrying a rebuilding team on her back.

and guess what?

they won the natty. freshman year. (in this universe ofc)

against all odds.

duke, led by the girl no one believed in, became national champions. and it wasn’t just a win—it was a statement.

and then uconn came calling.

suddenly, after she’d proven herself, after she’d done what they never thought she could—they wanted her.

the coach she admired growing up finally picked up the phone. “we think you’d be a great fit here. we’d love for you to consider transferring.”

it should have felt like validation. but it didn’t. it felt like a slap in the face.

because where was that call when she needed it most? when she was begging for that chance, working her ass off in high school, waiting for them to see her?

they didn’t believe in her until she forced them to.

and here’s the thing about her: she’s loyal.

she didn’t take the easy route. she built something at duke. she led that program to a title when nobody believed she could. and now that uconn finally saw her worth?

she said no.

no hesitation. no regrets.

“they didn’t want me when i was grinding. they don’t get me now that i’m shining.”

oh, and when she faced uconn the next season? she torched them. 35 points, waved at their bench after hitting a dagger three, blew a kiss to the crowd. postgame?

“yeah, that one was personal.”

iconic behavior.

but beneath all that fire? the rejection hurt. more than she let on.

because deep down, it was never just about basketball. it was about validation. about being seen. uconn ignoring her felt like the basketball world telling her she wasn’t “good enough” unless she toned it down, played the “right” way.

but instead of shrinking herself, she got louder. instead of changing, she leaned harder into who she was.

and this whole experience? it defined her career.

that’s why she’s fierce. that’s why she’s loyal. that’s why she rides for her people no matter what.

it’s why, when luka came along—chaotic, loud, unapologetic luka—she recognized that same fire. the same “i’m gonna prove you wrong” energy.

she didn’t need uconn’s validation in the end. she carved her own path.

her personality on the court vs. off the court is another layer.

like yeah, she’s fiery on the court—talks trash, gets techs, doesn’t back down. but off the court? she’s lowkey funny as hell. sarcastic, quick-witted, that classic new york humor. the kind of person who can roast you and have you laughing at the same time.

and honestly, that’s what drew luka in. like, everyone expects him to go for someone chill, but nah—he met someone who matched his energy, who wasn’t scared to check him. she’s the only one who could call him out for arguing with refs too much and then turn around and get ejected for her own argument three minutes later.

and the fierceness runs deeper than just competitiveness.

it’s comes back to loyalty. she grew up in a place where you ride for your people—no matter what. that’s why she and luka are so chaotic together. because she’s always going to stand up for her own, and luka? that’s her person.

like, imagine a press conference where someone tries to shade luka. reader just leans forward into the mic like, “you got something to say? say it directly.” and luka is sitting next to her, grinning like an idiot because he lives for this energy.

honestly, her upbringing explains everything.

growing up in new york taught her to be tough. her family taught her loyalty. the courts taught her grit. losing taught her hunger. and luka? well, luka taught her that someone could handle all of that fire—and match it with his own

[imhoser]

The day is finally here...

My favorite chapters of Dr. Stone have been animated!

I'm so glad anime-onlys finally get to see these chapters.

I'll talk a little more about why these chapters matter a lot to me under the cut, specifically more about Xeno's character. I've been able to digest these chapters for almost 5 years, so I would say I am a certified Xeno expert. I'd read it if you want to understand Xeno's character more, it'll make his future actions make more sense to y'all.

Don't worry, there's no spoilers.

The most important aspect of Xeno's character is who he was before, who he was when he first met Senku. Xeno wasn't born a bad person, he became one over time, as he grew up he felt like his dreams were taken from him. He always had some authoritarian tendencies, but those tendencies were brought forth the more he became shackled by authority.

His true passion is science, all of his wants are motivated by his selfish drive to do as much science as possible, no matter the financial and ethical barriers.

Xeno first met Senku when he was 10, Xeno being 20-21. They were online friends for 9 years, so they both got to see each other grow up.

Senku's drive to save humanity was instilled in him because he rejected Xeno's crumbling ethics. His trip to Africa, his studying biology and topics far beyond rocket science, was because he knew people like Xeno posed a threat to humanity. He knew he would have to counter mad scientists from a very young age.

Xeno and Senku are meant to be mirrors of each other, this shows in Xeno's design. I will say I am very proud because I figured this out years ago before Boichi (the manga artist of Dr. Stone) confirmed it several days ago.

Both Xeno and Senku represent the quest for knowledge by oneself because they feel like nobody will be as passionate while carrying the torch. Xeno decided to become a dictator because he felt like he could be the only one willing to sacrifice morality for the sake of human scientific progress, while Senku felt like he could be the only one willing to do everything possible to save every human on Earth.

(Notice the difference in their eyes, Xeno's don't shine. This becomes more important symbolically later. This theme is brought up again and again.)

In summary, Xeno is a passionate person who lost all hope in humanity because of the barriers that were placed in front of him. He is arrogant, controlling, and has sinister motivations.

Senku is the scientist of light, while Xeno is the scientist of the dark. Senku is selfless, Xeno is selfish. Senku studied science in the hopes of progressing science at the benefit of everyone, while Xeno studied science in the hopes of progressing science at the benefit of himself - his curiosity.

As I've grown up alongside Dr. Stone, I've noticed the shift in my own character. I love Dr. Stone because it is all about wanting to learn as much as possible. I find that very relatable. Like Senku, I loved reading books on quantum theory and chemical biology when I was little - although I was like Taiju, I rarely understood it. But I continued to read regardless because I just wanted to know everything, I was and am endlessly curious.

I found myself relating to Senku after I first caught up to Dr. Stone in January 2020, but over time I have begun to understand Xeno further - most people are not curious. They feel no passion for learning more and the importance of building upon existing human knowledge, even if it could help many. Sometimes we need great, powerful people, to drive humanity forward even at the cost of one's moral character.

[ec1ipticshadow]

scrolling through hsr theories for joy and whimsy and... you might be onto something here, actually.

we know acheron is definitely an emanator of the nihility. i also know jing yuan being an emanator has been offhandedly mentioned in a line of dialogue before (i don't have the screenshot on me, but i remember because my friend was talking about it once and shared it) and it'd make sense for all the luofu generals to be emanators of the hunt, acounting for feixiao too.

there's also all the theories and possibilities of march 7th and sampo being emanators of the remembrance and elation respectively - with amphoreus right at the doorstep, i think we'll find the answer to that march one soon.

the big sort of outlier here is luocha, purely because we kind of know jack shit about him. like, he's got his coffin, and he's got his direct connections to his honkai impact equivalent, but other than that the plot hasn't given him its gracious glance yet and we don't have too many details. honestly though i would not be surprised if it turns out he's an emanator. wouldn't put it past him.

"what about the herta? what's up with her?" well, the herta's rating is a little. weird.

this definitely checks out with the idea of it scoring emanator potential, though why it produces this rather than a rating invalid like acheron's and the other (potential) emanators is fully out of my grasp. maybe it's the herta charm, i dunno

also noteworthy to note that nobody suspected of or confirmed to be an emanator ranks as a definitive number. the closest is the hertalettes, but we know mostly from promotional material that they're not directly herta most of the time.

and hey, extra fun amphoreus detail: aglaea scores as a 99.11 - highest score outside of the emanators and silver wolf and the only one with decimals, but not technically clocking directly as an emanator. i wonder if the other demigods will clock this way, and if this theory is true i wonder what that says about the relationship between aeons and the wielders of the coreflames.

WAIT GUYS YOU KNOW THE RATING GUN

The curio in Hertas Space Station next to the room where the Stelleron was held?

I think I've figured out what it's rating.

The chances of someone becoming an emanator.

Multiple SPOILERS ahead, and any spelling mistakes, please just go with it.

Think about it, to my knowledge all emanators recieve an invalid rating. Hertas puppet receives a 4, since The Herta is already an emanator (I'm assuming she'll get an invalid rating too) whilst both Tingyun and Fugue get a 13, I'm assuming because of Tingyuns death and Fugues rebirth through Ruan Mei.

Yanqing receives a 99?! And based off of his story in game so far, I'd say that tracks. Bailu receives a 71, which I think makes sense since we don't know if the previous High Elders were emanators (I say unlikely) but at the same time she has tried to heal the mara struck, where I have a whole other theory on the Abundance and mara.

Himeko gets a 9, so I'm assuming that's because of Akavilis death or something to do with Hi3. Welt gets a 5, again I'm assuming something to do with Hi3 going on here and that I'd a game I know very little about. The Trailblazer receives an 84, which is tripping me a little bit because of all the Aeons gazes they've received, but maybe to become an emanator you need the gaze of an Aeon and to accept that power. March gets an invalid, I have a theory that she's an emanator of the Rememberence but something happened and they erased her memories, maybe to make her more powerful in the future? Dan Heng gets an 88, though it has a question mark at the end, and Dan Heng IL gets the same. Sunday gets a 36, the Order is dead to our knowledge and him becoming an emanator for the Harmony or even something else... unlikely.

Though I might be COMPLETELY wrong, since with a few other characters I checked it messes with the theory. Pela gets a 93, Serval gets a 67, Asta gets a 29, Moze gets a 60, Gallagher gets a 24, Bronya gets a 37, Qingque gets a 65, and Misha gets a 25.

But yeah, I thought it was a fun theory. Probably wrong, but who cares.