#she doesn't explicitly explain this to him

[painted-bees]

I want to be a fly on the wall for the jam session that took place after Margie spent the night. Does Raf ask her why she left? What's her explaination?

He...doesn't lmao because he wouldn't want to be asked if it were him in her shoes.

But he does tell her that it was kind of a bummer to come home to an empty apartment and that he wasn't just sayin stuff to be nice.

Margie provides appologies [she always apologises for everything] and it like "yah! I had some other commitments n' stuff." and then compliments his place and tells him that the waking up to the smell of coffee and eggs reminded her so much of weekends growing up at home--because every saturday, her dad would be up by 8am making coffee and eggs and bacon and the smell always motivated her to get out of bed...because she'd miss out on it if she slept in. And she really, really liked that.

During this jam meet-up, Raf doesn't try to corner her into confirming to him that she's unhoused. He gets why she'd be reluctant to give him that kind of information abt herself.

He gets her to crash at his place a couple more times over thr next week or so until he finally give her a set of her own keys to the apartment as an "early christmas gift". And actually--Margie refuses to take them at first, going into full word vomit over how worried she is abt straining their relationship, because all she really wants is someone to play music with--and she overshares all the unflattering tmi details about what makes her a difficult person to live with and why she's usually considered to be a poor roommate lmao

And Raf is like "cool, I don't care." and promises to be real straight forward with her if he doesn't think the roommate thing is gonna work out, assuring her that he has the same interest as she does in preserving their relationship as jam partners. Even if rooming with him doesn't work out, they'll still meet every thursday, no hard feelings. So long as she doesn't, like...sell all his shit while he's at work or smth. Raf is like "I've already considered and mentally prepared for all the worst case scenarios and the bar is in hell but we'll prolly get on fine."

But yeah, I don't think Raf ever explicitly asks if Margie is homeless, and Margie never actually admits that she is.

[demigods-posts]

headcanon that percy and annabeth hang out at the apartment a lot after the war. and percy is just happy that he's alive, and wants to be around his parents and girlfriend. except, annabeth is avoiding eye contact all weekend. percy eventually summons the courage to confront her about it, asking her if he did something or if she's okay. and she's just breaks down because 'you're just so pretty that i can't look at you'. which actually means that she spent the last four years befriending and falling in love with a boy she was certain was going to leave her like everyone. but he's always come back to her because she's his permanent thing and he's hers. and the idea that someone loves her so much is so overwhelming that looking at him. alive and healthy and happy. is enough to make her cry like she's seven years old.

[trainer-from-unova]

void

Ⓢ english ao3 Ⓢ spanish ao3 Ⓢ masterlist Ⓢ

ship: the void x mutant black widow reader (x robert reynolds)

summary: they were getting used to bob and void. most of the time they dealt with bob, who was shy and respectful — and on the other side was void, who thought he was superior to everyone (or almost everyone) and could get on their nerves a lot of the time, but they had learned that, for some reason, most of the time he only showed up when the former was alone with _______, so they tried not to let those situations happen.

au: antonia lives / bob and void are a system

c/w: post-canon, lack of communication, consensual sex, oral sex, piv sex, masturbation, alcohol, light angst

a/n: english isn't my first language / I wrote this before watching the movie (and edited version after watching the movie: Ⓢ)

word count: 3818

Dealing with a system could be difficult, let alone living with it — fortunately, they were getting used to Bob and Void. Most of the time they dealt with Bob, who was shy and respectful — and on the other side was Void, who thought he was superior to everyone (or almost everyone) and could get on their nerves a lot of the time, but they had learned that, for some reason, most of the time he only showed up when the former was alone with _______, so they tried not to let those situations happen.

At first she was confused that such a thing happened, then it began to annoy and even sadden her. She thought he hated her for some reason, and she thought it made the most sense that he hated her for being a mutant.

"He doesn't hate you for that," Yelena said in her typical annoyed tone. She and the others knew it wasn't personal.

It was girls' night out and the four of the team were drinking in a bar in Manhattan as Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte.

"Oh, so you confirm he hates me," she said in the same tone.

"No, he doesn't hate you- well, I think," she hastened to correct herself.

Of all of them Yelena was the closest to Bob, but she didn't know why he was giving her the cold shoulder; she just knew that if she asked him directly it would be too suspicious. The few times Yelena brought up the subject when the two of them were alone together he tried to quickly change the conversation, saying he didn't want to talk about it, and she accepted in defeat because she didn't want to make him uncomfortable, let alone provoke a trigger for Void to come out. Every time they commented on these attempts she or the others said that maybe Bob thought there was a possibility that it was _______ posing as Yelena with a mask and wig, and that would explain why he didn't want to talk about it even with her.

"I'm sure he hates me for that reason," she said referring to her mutation, not wanting to say it explicitly because she was in public.

"If your theory were true, wouldn't it make more sense for him to hate me too," Ava asked, "even more than you?"

"Exactly!" said Yelena pointing and agreeing with her, understanding her point. Antonia nodded slowly and silently as she sipped her drink.

"I mean, even if it's not..." she stopped and waved her hand, and they all understood that she meant "mutant" "I think my power is scarier than yours, and he doesn't treat me like he treats you," said Ava.

"Yeah, but I don't know..." She shrugged her shoulders. "That's the only logical explanation I can see, or maybe I have done or said something that upset him too much without meaning to and he doesn't dare tell me."

"You'd have the explanation if you got inside his mind," Antonia reminded her.

"But I don't want to do that," she said.

They all knew why she didn't want to do that, it wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last time they would talk about him and that subject, so there was no need to remind them.

At the beginning, when they were together with all the group, she would catch Bob looking at her, and their gazes would cross — not when they were on a mission, but when they were in calmer, more domestic settings she would sometimes smile at him, but he would always, no matter the situation or the place, look away seriously and quickly. Now it was she who looked at him from a distance, and he didn't even look her in the eye when she spoke. Luckily they both tried to be cordial in group, not wanting to make the others uncomfortable — they didn't speak directly but they spoke, and if someone were looking from the outside, probably no one would notice what was, or rather, what was not between them.

The one she did speak directly to and make eye contact with was Void, the few times they were together. He even dared to come dangerously close to her and scan her from top to bottom without any disguise whatsoever. It didn't bother her — even though she knew it wasn't technically him, she found the difference curious and it was better than nothing. It wasn't him, but his body was the same.

She knew she probably shouldn't make a big deal out of the situation, if he didn't want to get along with her for whatever reason that was his problem, but she couldn't help but feel frustrated. She wanted to get along with him — not because she felt the need to make everyone think well of her, but for the sake of coexistence and above all because she did like him, even if it didn't make sense.

It was on a sleepless night that she approached the answer that was keeping her awake — as she couldn't sleep as the hours passed she became thirsty, so she quietly left her bed and her bedroom for the kitchen to get something to drink. It was when she reached the living room on her way down the stairs to the first floor of the complex that she saw that the chandeliers were on, and stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Bob walking away from the kitchen, heading towards where she was in just his pyjama bottoms. When he noticed her he stopped in front of her and looked at her in surprise, but quickly changed his expression — she knew it wasn't him anymore.

"It's been a long time," she said in a calm tone, slowly approaching him.

"You can visit me if you miss me so much," he said in his typical mocking smile and tone, slowly approaching her as well. "As easy as knocking on Bob's door and waiting for me to open it for you," she laughed, snorting through her nose as she folded her arms.

"He'd have a heart attack."

"I'm here to protect him," and that answer made her furrow her brows in frustration and curiosity.

"Why doesn't he like me?" she asked once and for all. She didn't really want to discuss the subject with him, it was personal and emotional, but clearly she couldn't ask Bob directly either. "Why do you have to protect him from me? I don't understand."

"You've never entered his mind?" he asked still with that mocking tone, as if it was ridiculous for him to ask such a question because she could easily get the answer doing that.

"No, I'd rather not, if possible..."

"Afraid of not making it, as in my case?" He asked, reminding her of the time she tried it when he got out of control and blacked out Manhattan.

"It's not that," she said, rolling her eyes, "I don't like to do it, specially with people I'm close to."

"Then you'll never get an answer."

"Let me talk to him," she pleaded.

"Why so much interest in him?" he asked slightly more serious and even a little annoyed. "At least I like you."

"Is that another reason why I can never be alone with him?" she asked surprised and confused by the sudden and ambiguous confession.

"Maybe," he replied mockingly again.

He was starting to get on her nerves, but at the same time she couldn't help raising her eyebrows and laughing incredulously, looking in another direction. In their conversations there always came a moment when she didn't know whether to give in or play along, but that night she decided to play along.

"Oh yeah?" she asked looking at him, imitating his tone and dropping her arms.

"Yeah."

"I don't think you like me as much as you say you do," and she wasn't partly lying, but she wanted to know how much truth there was in his words.

"Do you want me to prove it to you?" He asked daring to stand dangerously close to her as he lowered his gaze to her lips. She was surprised by his proposal and his boldness, but decided to be expressionless at the moment.

"Alright," she replied averting her gaze to his lips and being aware of what was likely to happen a few seconds later. What she didn't expect was for him to bring his fingers to her chin to lift it even higher as he closed the small distance between their lips.

They got straight to the point: the kiss was intense and desperate from the start. Unconsciously she moaned and brought her hands to his shoulders as he brought the hand that cupped her chin to one of her cheeks, and with the other he pulled her closer to him by her waist.

When they parted for lack of air he raised his hand to turn off the lights with his powers, and then grabbed her hand and guided her hurriedly to his bedroom, where in complete darkness they quickly took off all their clothes and got into bed to continue kissing there, with him on top of her. When he tired of kissing her lips he settled down next to her to kiss her neck while he slid his fingertips down her abdomen, creating little spasms until he reached where he wanted: her clitoris.

He began to move his index finger in circles. Her breathing began to hitch, and she tried not to moan, but it was impossible. She bit her lip and put a hand to her mouth to silence herself, but he grabbed her with his free hand, intertwined her fingers and placed it against the mattress.

"There's no reason to hold back, the walls are theoretically sound proof," he said against her neck, tickling her with his voice. He was loving her moans, and he was getting hard just listening to her moan and feeling her writhe in pleasure beneath her, and she could easily feel it against her thigh.

Wanting more he began to move his finger faster, making her moan more often and harder. She also began to feel a warmth inside her abdomen moving down to her crotch and she began to spasm harder — it was obvious to both of them what was happening. She ended up exhausted even though she had done nothing, having to catch her breath.

Then he released her and slid down, where he put his hands on her thighs to spread them open and kissed his way down to her crotch. Noticing what he intended to do she opened her eyes like plates and blushed like hell, almost having to stifle a gasp of shock — she wouldn't complain about not having to do anything and be sexually pleasured, but she was embarrassed to have someone get that close there. He was a first in that sense, none of the few men in her sexual history had dared to do so — unfortunately it wasn't common for normal men, but he was clearly not a normal man, in many ways.

Unconsciously her hips bucked against his mouth and nose, and her body began to tremble as he thrust his tongue into her, making her even wetter than she already was inside. She closed her eyes, threw her head back and grabbed him by his long hair, tousling it even more. She found it hard not to writhe in pleasure and he could tell she was about to make her climax again by her uncontrollable moans, which grew louder as she clung even tighter to him.

After that he climbed on top of her and she noticed him settling back on top of her and between her legs, and she cooperated by wrapping her legs around his back. He didn't put on a condom as he knew it wasn't necessary.

He slid the tip of his member across her entrance as if he were painting on a canvas with a brush, causing her lips to open slightly, and then he inserted his member slowly, causing her to clutch at his back. She was very wet, but it was still hard to make her way in. "Fuck, you're tight..." he growled, his forehead resting on her shoulder and making her blush. "I thought you Black Widows had a lot of experience."

"What a subtle way to call me a slut," she said now slightly offended as he began to thrust into her, slower and then faster. Her moans were rising again, as she heard his hips grinding against her buttocks, and most of all, the bed frame bumping against the wall and the wetness inside her.

She decided not to hold back her moans as he began to thrust harder and faster, and soon after she felt that warm sensation again, moving down her belly and into her crotch. A few more thrusts and they were both on the verge of orgasm — she was moaning uncontrollably from her throat and begging him to please make her cum as she arched her back and tightened her fingers. He finished the same way, sighing and cumming inside her as her walls closed around him, her hips spasming before coming to a complete stop.

When they were done, exhausted and lying on their backs, they stared at the pitch black ceiling as they caught their breath.

"Okay, so..." she said suddenly, now calmer and after wiping herself with a packet of tissues that he took out of one of the drawers of the small table next to the bed. "You like me sexually, that's for sure, but... In general, why do you like me?"

"You're very curious," he said laughing quietly, "aren't you?" he asked as he turned his neck to the left even though he couldn't see her.

"If you were- if you two were" she corrected herself quickly, adding Bob to the equation as she did the same with her neck, only to the right, "clearer, I wouldn't have so many doubts," she said slightly annoyed.

"Well," he turned his neck towards the ceiling again, "you're attractive in many ways and you're the most powerful one here- after me, of course."

"Of course..." she repeated sarcastic, doing the same. "Thank you, I suppose...? Though I'm not the most powerful among the others by far."

"That's what you think," he said surprisingly serious, "but you have potential. Maybe with proper training you could have gotten into my mind back then."

After that she was silent and thoughtful for a few seconds, and decided to change the subject.

"When... can I talk to Bob?" she asked turning sideways.

"Do you really want to talk to him right now?" he grumbled, to which she now laughed quietly.

"No, but soon, okay?" she said poking him in the arm.

"Okaaay, okay."

She was exhausted, and he let her sleep there, in his bed. They both suffered from insomnia, but after all they had done, falling asleep was easier, especially for her. She was the first to fall asleep and the last to wake up — the last to fall asleep was Void, and the first to wake up was Bob.

He woke up slowly, and opened his eyes in surprise and confusion when he noticed that he was completely naked. The confusion got worse when he noticed someone next to him, and that someone wasn't just anyone — it was _______ and just like him she was naked, he could see it because there was some morning light coming in through the window of the bedroom. He blushed and panicked, having her there with him and guessing what happened in the night between her and Void. As usual he didn't remember anything and thought that, as usual, Void would take control of his body — but to his surprise he didn't, so he panicked even more.

He stretched out his arm until he could reach for his mobile phone on the small table to his right, trying not to move too much or make too much noise so that the sleeping woman to his left would not wake up. He looked at the time, but that wasn't really the information he wanted to get — he wanted to go to the notes app in case there was a message from Void explaining the situation, but there was nothing there. The situation took a turn for the worse when he noticed her stretch and move towards him, curling up next to him.

"Good morning," she whispered tiredly, her eyes still closed.

"Uh... Good morning...?" he asked extremely confused, almost scared.

The moment she heard that, noticing his change of tone and his complete confusion, she opened her eyes wide and sat up, not caring that she was bare-chested and looking at him just as confused and scared as he was.

"Bob?" she asked nervously.

"Um yeah," he answered and did the same.

"Oh God, that bastard appears and disappears at the worst times!" She exclaimed annoyed, referring to Void as she sat cross-legged under the sheets.

"Tell me about it..." He whispered, "What... happened last night?"

"Oh, well..." She blushed as she remembered what happened, averting her gaze in another direction as she bit her lip. "A lot of things, actually..." she laughed nervously.

"I mean, you don't have to give me all those details," he said nervously and blushed as he sat down in the same way as her, "I just want to know what led to this..."

"Okay, so..." She sighed deeply and prepared to launch into the monologue that would be the explanation. "Well, I was having trouble falling asleep so I went to the kitchen to get a drink," she said looking into his eyes, but she got nervous so she looked down, and she wasn't the only one as he did the same while listening to her explanation, "but there I ran into you and Void appeared, then we greeted each other and mentioned you. He said that he protects you from me and that confused me, even more because I've been annoyed for months now by the fact that you've been ghosting me and whenever we're alone he literally always appears..." She said, gesturing with her hand and looking in another direction. "I wanted to talk to you about it but since I couldn't I asked him, and he asked me if I'd gone into your mind..." he tensed and looked at her again, even though she was crestfallen. "I said no, not because I can't as in his case, but because I don't want to, it seems to me an intrusion..." she said, now looking in the other direction. "Like sneaking into someone's house," she shrugged her shoulders. "So, all of a sudden... I think he confessed to me that he likes me...?" she asked confused, now finally looking him in the eyes — he was listening to her intently, but also confused, surprised and embarrassed. "Because he told me that and that literally that maybe that was also a reason why he always showed up when we were alone," she said looking down again and pointing at him with one hand, "so I decided to play along and he told me that if I didn't think he liked me that much he could show me, so we kissed, came here and... Well, the rest is history," she looked back into his eyes as she laughed nervously and shrugged, waiting for him to finally say something, but he was too busy sighing deeply and taking it all in to say anything.

"So, let's be clear... You really wanted to...?" He gestured with his hand, pointing at her with his index finger and then at his chest, and so on a couple of times.

"What?" she asked confused. "Fuck? Uh yeah, you're- you two are hot, and I had three orgasms..." she whispered, smiling but blushing.

"Oh..." he said surprised and blushing. "I'm glad, I guess..." She nodded silently and slowly, and they both stood in silent, crestfallen for a few seconds, not knowing what to do or say.

"Um, Bob..." she said nervously to get his attention as she craned her neck to look at him, and he did the same, "Have I ever done or said anything to you...? Or do you hate me because I'm a mutant...?" she said trying to hide her distress as much as possible, wanting to make it seem more like curiosity, but her tone and facial expression really gave her away.

"Hate you!?" he asked nervously. "No no, for God's sake! I don't hate you."

"Then... Why don't you talk to me? Why don't you look at me? Why do you disappear every time we're alone?" she asked as her voice broke and her eyes began to water. It broke his heart to see her like this, so vulnerable because of him: she was literally naked in body and soul.

"I... I'm afraid of your power," he confessed chagrined and defeated as she looked at him without understanding what he was referring to. "My mind it's a chaos, and... I don't want anyone to see that part of me nor my past, especially you all... Knowing that you have the power to do it and that you can't get into Void's mind... Two plus two equals four, I guess... Even when we're in a group I try to think of other things in case you're hearing my thoughts."

"I've never gone into your mind or any of the team's," she said shaking her head, "I don't generally like to do it because of what I said before, it's very invasive and none of my business... I wouldn't want anyone to enter my mind without my permission, without warning. I only do it on missions. And I don't listen to your thoughts or anyone else's, otherwise I wouldn't be able to go anywhere. That's more like... Mm..." She paused to look for a good example, "like going on Spotify and hitting play on a song — you have to go into the song and hit the button, if you don't you don't hear it..."

"Good to know..." he said sighing deeply again, but calmer.

"Yeah..." she did the same.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time, I really couldn't imagine it was affecting you so much..." he said embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it anymore, the past it's in the past," she said trying to smile in a convincing way.

"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"Void made up for enough last night, but if you want another round..." She joked, causing him to blush again, more than at any point in the entire conversation. "I'm kidding!" but she wasn't completely kidding. "Let's get some breakfast, come on," she said as she laughed.

© trainer-from-unova / alicent burton | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[mischievousmoony]

𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘

⟢ frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⟢ a guy makes unwanted advances on you at a frat party, and the president comes to your aid ⊹ 3.0k ⟢ warnings/tags: alcohol, unwanted advances + touching and sexist comments from another character, james gets aggressive confronting said character, american!james hehehe (not that it's explicitly stated)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

By your third visit to the crowded, beer-scented kitchen, your features have set into a deep scowl. You groan, slumping against the wall—only to immediately push yourself off, unwilling to let the exposed skin of your back come into contact with any part of the frat house you're in. Was the wall sticky, or have you started sweating from the heat of all the drunk bodies around you? Either option makes you cringe.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. Frat parties weren’t exactly your ideal night out, but your best friend had dragged you to this one with the promise of a fun time. But your night has quickly turned into a wild goose chase after she disappeared with some guy.

"Are you okay?" a voice calls from your left, barely audible over the music that's starting to make your head pound. You realize that you had started pinching the bridge of your nose. When you lower your hand and turn your head, you find a pair of kind eyes staring down at you.

He introduces himself as Todd after you explain that you've been looking for your friend for half an hour to no avail. With a sympathetic smile, he offers to help, which you gratefully accept. Anything to find your friend and put this dreadful night to an end.

"Are you, like, one of the brothers?" you ask, noticing the letters on Todd's cap as you follow him through the house, but it's a little too dark to make them out. Not to mention, you don't really remember which fraternity your friend even brought you to tonight.

"Nah," Todd shouts over his shoulder. "Not here." He doesn't provide any more information than that as he changes the subject, suggesting the two of you search the backyard.

"I thought the yard was off limits,” you shout as you speed walk to catch up with him. He’s walking so fast that you barely have time to consider why he would think your friend would be outside.

Stepping into the cold, he explains, "Apparently their neighbors complained about the noise last weekend, so they're trying to keep the party inside. But a couple of quiet people shouldn't be an issue. It's nice to be away from all the noise, eh?"

You shudder when the night air hits you, hugging your arms around yourself tightly and attempting to smooth away the goosebumps already prickling on your skin.

"Maybe if it wasn't freezing."

You look around at the back yard, finding it completely empty except for a thin layer of fallen leaves and scattered beer bottles hidden in the uncut grass. Todd is leading you straight across the lawn, farther away from the house and any source of light. You’re starting to get a weird feeling about this—and Todd—so you slow to a stop while he continues to head deeper into the darkness.

"Hey, I don't think my friend is gonna be out here. I'm gonna keep looking inside–"

"What's the rush?" Todd's demeanor changes when he notices you’re falling behind. He quickly closes the distance between the two of you again in two strides.

You release a dry laugh, realizing that you've been too trusting, and your tone turns serious. "I should really find my friend."

"You said she was with a guy, right? C'mon just let her have her fun." Todd drops his voice an octave, trying to sound seductive, but it comes across embarrassingly forced. "Maybe we can have some fun too."

When he reaches to touch the side of your face, your mood starts to change from a little let down and slightly annoyed to seriously pissed off.

"Don't," you say coldly, jerking your head away from his touch.

"Aw, c'mon," he continues to try to coax you, still somehow thinking he has a chance at convincing you. When his fingers graze your sides, you shout at him to keep his hands off, but instead, he slides them to your waist, holding you firmly.

"Let go!" you demand, planting you hands firmly on his shoulders and pushing. He chuckles at your feeble attempts, making you angrier, so you switch tactics. You wrap your hands around his wrists and pry his hands off, applying a pressure to the inside of his wrists that makes him release you with a hiss.

There's an angry voice in the distance shouting "Hey!" presumably at the two of you. You hear the steady sound of footsteps growing louder—one of the brothers probably coming to yell at you for sneaking into their backyard. You're a little too busy to care as you stomp away from Todd.

Todd doesn’t seem to notice the newcomer either. Too absorbed in the sting of your rejection, he starts getting angry too.

"Don't be such a prude," he snaps. He catches your wrist and pulls you back to him with a swift tug, spinning you around to face him. You draw your free arm back, using the extra momentum from the spin to your advantage as you punch him squarely in the jaw.

The punch throws him off balance, sending him stumbling back. His foot catches on an empty beer bottle, twisting his ankle as he loses his footing and crashes onto the grass with a heavy thud.

You stand above him, a little stunned at your actions. Todd is whining pathetically about the pain from the punch to his face, and the pain from the fall to his ass.

Someone jogs up beside you, and you can feel their gaze darting back and forth between you and Todd.

"Nice punch," he says, a little out of breath.

"Thanks," you reply flatly, only now starting to process that you—with the help of a beer bottle—sent this man tumbling to the ground.

"Alright," the mystery man says like he's about to get to work. He steps into your line of sight, looming over Todd for a moment.

He has a mop of dark curls spilling out from under a red baseball cap sitting backwards on his head. The cap matches his letterman-style jacket, which clings to his broad frame, drawing attention to his muscular body. Under different circumstances, this is a view you’d appreciate.

He bends down and grabs Todd by the collar of his shirt, roughly pulling him to his feet. Even with both of them standing, he still towers over him.

"Hey, man. What's up?" he asks Todd, his casual words contrasting with his abrasive tone.

"That slut just punched me!" Todd shrieks.

You roll your eyes. How pathetic.

He tightens his grip on Todd's shirt collar, using it to shake him roughly. "Watch your fucking mouth or I'll be the next," he threatens, and Todd goes quiet.

Your eyes widen at his sudden sharpness. Almost involuntary, you shift your position, angling yourself to get a clear look at the boy’s face. Black rimmed glasses sit lazily on the bridge of his nose, under his furrowed brow as he glares daggers at Todd. His eyes are big and brown, almost seeming out of place against the hard scowl carved into his features.

"Here's what's gonna happen," he continues. "First, you’re blacklisted. You’re never stepping foot in my house again. And what's this?"

He plucks Todd's hat off his head, inspecting the letters with a scoff before tossing it to the ground. "Of course. I'm sure nationals will be happy to hear about how you've conducted yourself tonight."

Todd's eye twitches at the threat. "Let's not pretend I was doing anything she didn’t want. Look at the way she’s dressed—flaunting herself, just begging for attention."

"What did you just say?" he seethes.

"James, c'mon," Todd says, revealing the name of the taller boy. He speaks with a nonchalance that makes James' nostrils flare, angered by his dismissiveness of the situation.

You begin to wonder how they know each other when James sets him straight.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to? My friends call me James, you don't get to call me shit. The fuck do you think this is, man? I catch you in my backyard putting your hands on a girl who clearly doesn't want anything to do with you and you think you can talk to me like we're friends? I don't even know who the hell you are."

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head by now. It feels like you’ve been dropped into a scene from a movie—an exposé on the dark side of greek life, or maybe the mafia. Not knowing much about either, it’s hard to say, but the backward hats and pounding music from the house quickly remind you of where you are.

James lowers his voice, his tone dipping into something almost menacing. "But I’ll find out from your brothers, and when I do, you’re finished here. Done. Now come on."

Todd flinches as one of James' hands clasps over the back of his neck with a sharp smack. There were some other guys you hadn't noticed before back near the house, to whom James hands Todd over.

Once James notices that you're still standing in the middle of the yard, he jogs back over. On his way, he takes off his hat, running his fingers through his hair to loosen his curls.

"Hey," he says in a soft voice, vastly different from the one he used on Todd. "Are you okay?"

The change in his demeanor catches you off guard. You exhale while you collect your thoughts, a steamy white cloud filling the space as your warm breath meets cool air.

"That was intense," you say. You don’t mean to dodge his question, but he did just switch from mafia boss levels of threatening to sunshine and rainbows.

James breathes out a laugh. "Sorry about that. Gotta be a hardass with some of these dicks, especially ones like that. Part of the job."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, wondering what job he's talking about.

James reads your expression, and stands up a little straighter as he introduces himself. "President James, at your service." With an exaggerated wink, he tugs at the edge of his jacket, pulling it taut to show off the letters sewn over his chest.

You nod in understanding. "Well, thank you for stepping in, Mr. President," you say, a slight tease coloring your tone.

A smile like sunshine overtakes his lips. "No need to thank me, really. Anyway, you handled it pretty well before I got here. That was some punch—is your hand alright?"

You had forgotten about that. Splaying your fingers out in front of you, you inspect your knuckles. "Mhm. Fine. I don't think I can feel my limbs anyway." You wrap your arms back around yourself, the cold become almost unbearable in your tank top.

"Shit, yeah, it's cold out here, isn't it?" James holds his hat between his teeth, freeing his hands as he strips off his jacket. Your eyes linger on his toned arms for a moment too long, and suddenly his hat has made its way back onto his head and he's holding his jacket out for you.

"May I?" he asks.

As much as you want to say no, you truly are freezing, so you let yourself be draped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. The fabric has an unexpected weight to it, almost offering a comfort similar to an embrace.

James rubs his hands up and down over newly blanketed arms to encourage some warmth into them. James studies your face with softened eyes, his tone taking on a more serious note.

"Hey, listen... I'm really sorry that happened to you. Everything he said, and did–"

"It's alright," you interrupt.

"It's not. That shouldn't be happening. Not at my house—not anywhere. I'm really sorry you had to deal with that creep. And if you wanted to take it to the school, I'd be more than willing to–"

"No, no. That's more trouble than he's worth."

James nods, respecting your decision. "For what it's worth, I'm gonna make sure he won't be allowed in any of the parties around here anymore. I doubt I can get him completely blackballed, but I'll do what I can."

You offer James a small smile in response. You're glad to hear that, really, but now that Todd's gone and that's all over, your main concern is finding your friend and getting the hell out of here.

"Why don't you let me give you a ride home?" he offers, almost like he can read your mind. His kind, brown eyes almost make you want to say yes. But after the night you've had, you owe it to yourself to be a little less trusting.

"I don't know." You bite the inside of your cheek while you decide if you should disclose your current dilemma. James does seem eager to help. Deciding to tell him, you say, "I was looking for my friend."

James is quick to offer his assistance. "Who's your friend? Maybe I can help."

You tell him your friends name and recount what she was doing when you saw her last. "She ran off with this guy. Long black hair, leather jacket, I think I heard his name but it was something... unique."

James sucks in a breath through his teeth. "Sounds like Sirius."

"Sirius, yes! That was his name." You're momentarily excited, thinking that James could actually help, but the look on his face squashes the feeling promptly.

"Yeah, uh," James scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, "Sirius left with a girl like an hour ago. About yay high," he holds his hand out to your friend's height. "Tan. Brown hair."

You sigh. Some best friend you have. Here you are, searching for her endlessly, and she's ditched you at the party she brought you to.

"She was your ride, I’m guessing?" The corner of James' lip quirks up in a sorry half-smile as you nod. "It really is no trouble for me to drive you home."

You tap your foot on the ground anxiously. You're really wanting to just accept his offer. He seems nice enough, but there's still a little voice in the back of your mind telling you to be careful.

"I just... I don't really know you."

"Understandable," James starts. "But... you kinda do. I'm pretty sure we have chem together."

"I don't think so." You think you’d remember a muscly, likely rambunctious, frat boy in your boring chem class.

"Okay, I was playing it cool,” James’ teeth graze his lower lip in a bashful manner. “I know we have Chem together—with Professor Brown? Tuesdays and Thursdays. You sit in the front row. Y/N, right?" James looks a little sheepish as he recalls your name.

You nod slowly, really looking at James for the first time, trying to place him. Then it hits you—you do remember him. He sits a few seats down from you in chem, always rigorously taking notes and asking questions you wouldn’t have thought of (but are glad to have the answers to). Seeing him like this, though, is such a contrast to the smart guy from class that you didn’t even recognize him at first.

You feel a heat creep up the back of your neck. You’ve only ever spared him a few glances, but you’ve always thought the smart guy from chem was pretty cute.

"Oh. Oh, right. I–I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. You're James Potter." You try the name on your lips, realizing the name didn't click because you had only ever heard your professor call him by his last name.

"That's me," he grins. "And don't worry about it."

You give him a nod, a bit awkwardly. He seems like a good guy, but you’re still not sure if you want to get in his car. "Well, James, I should probably just call an Uber or something anyway. I don't know if you've been drinking or anything so..."

"Oh!" James holds up a finger, stuffing his other hand into his pocket and pulling out a black rectangle. You mistake it for one of those big, clunky box vapes and almost want to roll your eyes. But then, James surprises you by blowing into it instead of breathing in.

The device beeps, and he shows you the little digital screen, previously hidden behind his hand, that reads "0.00" over a glowing green background.

"Haven't had a drop," he confirms. "I haven't smoked or anything else, either. Not my thing."

"Why do you own a breathalyzer?" you ask, a little dumbfounded.

"So I can breathalyze people," he shrugs, fiddling with the device—tossing it a few inches up in the air and catching it.

You raise your eyebrows at him, not satisfied with his non-answer.

“Sorry,” James chuckles at himself. "Uh, I have a lot of people leaving my parties trying to tell me they're sober enough to drive. I got loads of these ‘cause they can't argue with the numbers... as much as they might try to."

"Where did you even get that?" you ask. You can't imagine there's a very big market for personal breathalyzers.

"You can get almost anything with Prime delivery!" he says it like he's proud as he tucks it back into his pocket. "Hey, you want one? I've got a drawer full back in the house." He points with his thumb over his shoulder.

You laugh, shaking your head at his offer. James laughs along with you, his lips curling into a boyish grin.

Well, if you’re going to put your trust in anyone else tonight it, it might as well be the smart boy from chem who takes safety seriously enough to own multiple breathalyzers.

You start walking towards the house. When you don’t hear a set of footsteps following behind, you call over your shoulder, "Come on."

James catches up quickly, happy to be invited to join you. "Where are we going?"

"To your car so you can give me a ride home."

From the corner of your eye, you watch his face break out into a wide grin. And from there on out, there's an extra pep in his step as he leads you to his car.

When you're safe and sound, back in the comfort of your own room, you flop onto your bed with a dreamy look on your face. You hug the jacket closer to your body, thankful for the excuse to talk to him in chem on Tuesday. Little did you know, he let you keep the jacket so that you'd have one.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[siriuslylantsov]

afterglow

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: in which, you spend an evening with joel on valentines day.

tags: MDNI! smut and fluff, established relationship, jackson!joel, fem!reader, sickeningly cute, so so much kissing, soft!joel (but hes also kinda dirty, i can't help myself), age gap (it was thought about when writing but it's not explicitly stated so imagine whatever), oral (f receiving, munch joel!! everyone cheered), fingering, unprotected piv (he pulls out), soft!dom joel kinda, aftercare, r and j's relationship is new but its implied that she already has a close relationship with ellie.

a/n: happy valentines day cuties!!! my gift to you. this started off super cute and soft and then two thirds of it became smut, idk where that came from. anywho, happy reading!!

wc: 3k

“hi darlin’,” joel says as you open the door. 

the early evening sun casts a soft orange glow over the side of face, complementing his complexion perfectly. a shy, crooked smile tugs at his lips, the dimple on his right cheek deepening. one arm is folded behind him, holding something from your view and the other is planted against the frame of your door.

“hi baby,” you reply, giggling as you step forward to kiss him.

he accepts your lips eagerly, using the hidden arm to curl around your waist. you hear the faint crinkle of paper against your back. you hum sweetly into the kiss, pulling away to see what he’s got for you. a small bouquet appears between your bodies–a humble bunch of white and purple flowers that could handle growing in the cold weather, along with some that you suspect the gardeners had a role in providing. 

“maria went on patrol with me today and helped me pick some o’ these out,” he explains, watching you toy with a lilac petal of a flower he can't be damned to remember the name of. “d’ya like em?”

your fingers rake softly through his beard, coaxing his gaze upward until his eyes meet yours. tears gather at your waterline, and joel should probably be alarmed—but he’s grown used to it, having been there for so many of your firsts. apparently, getting flowers was one of them too.

“i’ve never got flowers before,” you admit in a hushed whisper, sickening adoration pooling into your body, making you feel warm all over despite the cold air that sneaks its way into your house.

joel takes note of the wind picking up and guides you inside, a solid hand at the small of your back. he takes your dazed figure all the way to the kitchen, grinning amusedly at how you continue to admire the bouquet. he looks through your cabinets for something tall enough, settling when he finds a mason jar that would be perfect. 

“i really like these, joel.” you smile up at him when he's in front of you again. he's holding his hand out expectantly and the jar filled with water in the opposite one. you give him the flowers with a reluctant pout, following him to the counter where he begins to set them up.

“‘m glad,” he expresses warmly, untying the ribbon that held the stems together. “damn shame i couldn't get you roses, the garden ran out pretty quick.”

you can’t help the fond smile that spreads across your face as you watch him try to organise the flowers nicely, carefully moving them around so he doesn't accidentally pull off a petal. when he's happy with his arrangement he turns back to you, neatly folding up the brown paper that wrapped the bouquet and placing it in your palm. “ellie made me promise to tell you that she helped with that so keep it in mind, i guess,” he says, nodding to the doodles of leaves that were peppered along the edges.

“noted,” you laugh, picturing her fiery, insisting nature with ease. you gotta fuckin’, i don’t know, make it pretty for her, joel. just ugh- give it to me. 

suddenly, you remember the muffins that were kept warm in the oven. you scurry over there wordlessly, causing joel to twitch confusedly. you take the tray out with quick fingers, holding a muffin out for joel. 

“it's a new recipe, cinnamon and pear,” you explain excitedly as he walks over to you. when he looks down at it, he sees you’ve managed to orchestrate two small slices of fruit to sit in a heart shape and it's awfully cute.

your eyes are trained intently on him as he takes a bite. it's instantly the best thing he's ever tasted but he chews thoughtfully for a few more seconds so it doesn't look like he's making his mind up on a whim. admittedly, he is but it's also just that good. the texture of the warm cooked pear complimenting the firm but soft spiced crumb of the muffin. he hums in approval when he swallows, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“sweetheart, this is really fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, his voice rough in appreciation as he dusts off muffin remnants that have stuck to his bottom lip. 

you beam, extremely pleased. you wait as he finishes eating. not that long, apparently, as two big bites later, it’s gone. he reaches up with his free hand and tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, twirling it before letting it fall.

“so about today,” he starts and you hum attentively. “thought we’d take a walk around that part of town that you like and then go feed the horses. maybe go back to mine if there's time.”

-

the walk is perfect. you swing your joined hands between your bodies, smiling to yourself while joel complains about his brother. the air is solemn, the overwhelming scent and sound of love seeping out of every house you walk by. you never thought life could be this good again or that you’d feel this good again. you owe it all to the mumblin’ grumblin’ man beside you, the one softly caressing your thumb with his own, bringing it up to his mouth so he can kiss the back of your hand. 

when you reach the stables, joel pulls out the carrots he had tucked away in his large jacket pocket. (you’d made a detour at the greenhouse before coming here.) you divide the carrots into equal pieces for the animals, setting aside an extra chunk for a horse you remember ellie being particularly fond of–shimmer, if you recall correctly. 

joel takes in the sight, endearing eyes unable to part from you. your hand reaching out calmly, vegetable centred in your palm, you bring it to the horse's mouths, giggling when their tongues peek out and tickle you. he crowds in behind you, his arms wrapping around your middle. you squirm a little when he tilts to press a kiss to your neck, claiming his lips are cold. 

“well, let me warm ‘em up, sweetheart.”

-

you make it to joel's front door well after sundown, stars shining like diamonds spilled across the night sky. you make a mental note to go stargazing with him and ellie, if she wants, when the weather gets warmer. for now, you just want to be inside. 

“she’s with her friend dina tonight,” joel answers your unasked, looming question. you bite back the smile that the words ‘friend’ and ‘dina’ prompt, knowing a lot more than joel about his kids’ relationship status. she's just waiting for the right time.

you turn around to him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “so what you’re saying,” you muse lightly. “is that we have the place to ourselves.”

“mhm,” he smirks.

you twist the door open, often left unlocked, and let yourself through. “well then. come on in, mr. miller.”

he trails behind you up the steps, fingers lacing with yours. you walk into his room with a quiet sigh, taking off your shoes and watching as he follows suit. you love his room, a cultivation of who he is within four walls. you switch on the lamp on his bedside table, refraining from turning the main light so a faint glow encompasses the room, just enough to see the softness in his beautiful brown eyes.

“kiss me?”

he clicks his teeth before lowering his lips to yours, “don’t have to ask.”

his moustache tickles your upper lip and the coarse hair of his beard grazes your chin lightly, but it's not irritating. you welcome the sensation, it being a feature of his that you adore so dearly. proving this, your nails scratch the patch of grey at his jaw. 

his tongue slips out, tracing the seam of your lips. a low sound escapes you when you grant him entrance, licking into your mouth languidly. there's no rush, there never is. it's a luxury that three months ago you would’ve laughed at, disbelief evident.

his hands find your waist, pulling your hips flush together. he slips off your jacket and greedily tugs at the hem of your shirt. you appease by lifting your arms. he reaches behind you when he gets your shirt off, deftly unclasping your bra. he does this all while kissing you, but when he finally gets your top half bare, he pulls away. to look.

“beautiful,” he exhales a quick, amazed breath that whooshes past his lips. he admires you unabashedly, trailing his hands up your sides and down your front. he nudges you gently, guiding you onto the bed, his frame looming over yours as you sit down. 

you look up at him with dopey, half-lidded eyes, sneaking eager hands under his flannel and undershirt. your fingers trace over his skin, pressing into the soft warmth of his stomach, his body heat sinking into your palms. “back at ya, cowboy."

he takes this as a sign to peel off his layers, pulling them off with ease and adding them to the pile of discarded clothes. you spend a moment gaping at his torso before he lowers himself on top of you, dragging his lips up your neck as he does so. you whine when he begins sucking at your pulse point, teeth scraping your skin every so often. his kisses go lower and lower as he toys with the button of your jeans. 

he kisses at your belly, lips catching on the exposed skin of your hips, then upper thighs as he slowly pulls your jeans and underwear down, purposefully avoiding where you need him most. he strips off his pants and boxers and nudges for you to scoot up the bed. you sink into the pile of pillows, joel not far behind as he sits bracketed by your thighs. he runs his hands up and down them, calloused fingertips caressing your skin, squeezing in intervals and leaning down to kiss them, kiss your knees and your calves.

“joel, please,” you whisper, growing a little antsy, his hands all over your body aren't helping. 

“impatient,” he tuts, but there's no real reprimand in his voice. “jus’ let me take my time with you.”

“will you at least come up here and kiss me while you're at it?” 

he smiles, “what’d i tell ya?”

“don't have to-” your poor impression of his southern drawl gets cut off by his lips on yours. you sigh dreamily into the kiss; you'll never get used to that feeling. his hand cradles your jaw, tilting it to deepen this kiss. you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking it into your mouth. 

a needy sound rumbles in the back of his throat, and with a reluctant pull, he breaks away, shifting back to the space between your legs. he's lying on his stomach, cheek pressed against your inner thigh as he waits for your approval. when you nod, he dives in, no time to waste.

he licks a fat stripe between your folds, causing you to cry out. he hooks an arm over your hips to cease your writhing. you could say joel miller eats you out like a man starved, but right now, it's more like a savoured meal, slow and leisurely in its pace. he takes his time, measured strokes of tongue that are assuredly making you feel all the right kinds of ways. you thread your fingers through his hair, so soft, tugging lightly and he hums. 

you dare to spare a glance down. it's deadly–him with his mouth attached to you like a vice and eyes staring up at you, decidedly looking like he belongs there. you want to look away but the sight is so enticing. 

“baby, more,” you ask breathlessly. “please.”

“yeah?” he sounds equally out of breath, tracing a middle and ring finger around your entrance. “this what you want?”

you nod pathetically with a meek “yes.”

he pushes in slowly, met with no resistance. he finds that spot fast, pressing his curled fingers up. his fingers are longer and thicker than yours, reaching places you’d never been able to. he persistently rubs up, pulling out a little only to go back fast, just the way you like. all the while, he does this thing with his tongue–god, that tongue–where he flicks it from side to side over your clit, flattening it when needed, and it is earth-shattering. 

that well-known feeling starts to build and you repeatedly tug at joel's hair, mewling softly, trying to signal him. he’d already figured you were close, but still, he nods. he lifts his head to see you, his thumb replacing his tongue. 

“c’mon, sweetheart. give it to me,” he urges you on, kissing your hip bone with slick wet lips and his fingers working fervently like it's the most important thing in the world. joel would argue that right now, it is. “know you want to.”

“joel, yes, oh fuck-” you keen, shuddering violently as you finish. he keeps going, working you through it, lapping up the mess when his fingers slip out. he can't get enough of you. you weakly push at his head, “baby, enough. s’too much.”

suddenly, he's on top of you again, rubbing a clean hand over your hair. “okay, okay,” he coos, his voice low and lulling. he presses gentle pecks to your neck, making his way back up to your lips. you kiss him again, more sluggish than previously, whimpering when you taste yourself on him. fuck, you need him. 

you carefully drift a hand between your bodies, curling your fingers around his length. he hisses, inhaling a sharp breath. “shit, are you sure-”

you press him against you, guiding his tip to your slit. “fuck me, joel,” you whisper, using your other hand to hold his face.

that's all he needs to hear before he starts sinking into you, simultaneously groaning as he does. he curses low, though it sounds and looks more like a whine when you see the way his face has twisted up in pleasure when his hips are flush with yours. you feel addictively full, so you hug your arms around his shoulders to prolong the moment. he buries his head in your neck, breathing shallowly as you flutter around him.

“gotta move angel, i gotta-” he gets cut off when you squeeze, nodding against his shoulder. 

he thrusts greedily, pulling out almost fully until he somehow goes in deeper. it’s not fast but it’s not slow either, just enough that it leaves you reeling when he draws his hips back. the stretch of him is something you feel you won't get used to, it only just borders on pain that makes it feel deliriously good. all you can offer him are broken gasps as you find purchase on his back with your nails, digging into the flesh. 

“fuck you feel good, so so good,” he croons, his voice is soft, breathy, as he presses a lingering kiss to your neck, the words barely a whisper between your bodies. “can't believe you’re mine, this perfect fuckin’ body, perfect fuckin' girl.”

maybe it's the wrecked rasp to his voice or the way the base of his dick rubs against you just right but the high builds fast, record time even. you squeeze around him frantically, mouthing sloppily at his shoulder. 

“yeah?” he pants, lifting his head so he can look at you again, you’ve got the sense that he likes to watch. you like him watching you. “gonna give me another one? gonna cum for me?”

“mhm,” you hum, teetering on a sob as he starts fucking you harder, a determined look in his eyes. your face falls sideways into the arm that joel had pressed beside your head “oh god, ohgod-”

“there you go. good girl,” he gushes warmly as you finish. he speeds up urgently, letting your climax be the catalyst of his own, chasing something just out of reach. you pull his face to yours with desperate hands, clinging to him, needing to kiss him. his lips brush over yours messily, not quite kissing you and it drives you crazy. he cums with one more strong thrust, groaning loudly into your open mouth as he pulls out and spills over your stomach.

he slumps on you, heavy, as he comes to, smearing stickiness all over but you find that you don’t care much. you cradle the back of his head with gentle hands, murmuring sweet things. you can feel his soft exhales on your collarbone, sighing as you weave your fingers between his strands. his heart races against your own, almost in sync. 

the two of you stay like that for a moment longer as everything slows down. nothing else matters apart from the silvery glow of moonlight filtering through his sheer curtains, spilling in revered ribbons across the floor, or the soft, grounding weight of his body on top of yours. his fingers trace the skin within reach, absentminded circles over your hip bones, lines beneath the curve of your breast. 

eventually, he rolls off you, getting the sense that some of your limbs might be going numb. in the midst of your post-orgasmic haze, you don’t realise that he leaves, returning with a damp towel to clean you up. he wipes you up swiftly, murmuring a hushed sorry when you squirm away and joins you under the covers.

he pulls you into his side, letting you tuck yourself under his arm. he presses a kiss to your temple. everything is so serene you want to cry. your body has other plans for you when the dregs of sleep start to claw at your worn-down edges. joel feels the slow flutter of your eyelashes on his chest and he begins to rub a gentle hand over your back, attempting to coax you further. sleep offers its solace, and joel’s steady presence pulls you under, silently promising to keep you warm. 

before you drift off though, you hear him–unbearably soft, whispering against your forehead.

“happy valentine's day, angel girl.”

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[no-one-hears-me]

can't tell if this is a true bros before hoes moment or if I'm being unreasonable

[holyschnitzel]

Hi holyschnitzel!

A friend showed me the game's demo and I absolutely loved it, I got really obsessed with the character Damon. The game's background is really interesting, so I started following you to keep up with the lore and updates.

However, when I started looking into things, I was surprised that MC basically end up in a three-way relationship with DG and Damon, which isn't apparent in the game.

I don't really like this idea and wanted to ask if this will stay this way or if there will be individual routes where they haven't slept together before (like I see in posts about him taking her virginity) and have just been friends… I saw them as a family and it feels like incest.

I've found out that quite a lot of people think the same.

Thanks a lot for your time

Blastic is having trouble explaining this properly, so I'll take over :)

First of all, thank you for your interest in Broken Colors and for sharing your thoughts. I appreciate your enthusiasm for the game and especially for Damon's character <3 You seem to have some misunderstandings about the relationships in the game, so I'd like to clear that up for you!

Let me clarify that DG and Damon are absolutely not family or related in any way. They are explicitly established as friends (with benefits) who met as adults. There is no familial connection whatsoever between them, so your concern about "incest" doesn't apply to them. Just because you consider them family doesn't make it incestuous, this is not how it works, you naughty little thing you! ;P

Next, regarding Damon's personality and behavior: While Damon does have attachment issues and can be intensely possessive, his relationship with DG is unique and established before the events of the game. Their dynamic is special precisely because DG is the only person Damon trusts enough to consider sharing someone with. This is actually consistent with his character - he's not casually sleeping with multiple people; he has one deeply trusted connection (DG) that allows for this specific arrangement aka poly-relationship.

About the possible routes in the game:

There will be a route where MC ends up with DG.

A route where MC ends up with Damon.

And a poly-route option with both of them.

You're free to choose whichever route appeals to you most. If you prefer a one-on-one relationship with Damon, that route will be available to you. The poly route is simply an additional option for players who might be interested in that dynamic :)

Of course, we understand some players may have different preferences or interpretations, but Blastic wants to stay true to her characters and world she has created. Everything you have read are intentional aspects of the narrative and character development!

Well! I hope this clarifies things. Thanks again for your support and for engaging with the game so thoughtfully, eleipsis! ^o^

[ratatoilett]

episode title : the one where she suggests marriage (again)

nylu's note : excited to make this a mundane cutesy series of they're shenanigans omg!

tags : @toniiiiiireads @cuntyji @nakiich @rriwyu @your-mum3000 @lulunx @heiejdhdh @oracle014 @sukubusss @noooo-onee @sanestsanstan @minasuniverse @muli-wam @bearchermer @younjunie @kunasthiast @nina-from-317 @ehcilhc

series masterlist

INT. SUKUNA'S APARTMENT - TUESDAY - 11:00 AM

at this point, sukuna has accepted that you are an unavoidable disaster in his life.

like an earthquake. or a tornado. or a really persistent telemarketer that keeps calling even when he explicitly tells them to stop.

he doesn't know when it happened. one day, you showed up. the next, you never left.

and the worst part? he let's you.

not without protest, of course. plenty of "get out before i throw you out," and "touch my stuff and you lose a hand," and "if you breathe near me while i'm eating, i will make sure you regret it."

none of which work.

because here you are, again, sitting on his couch, eating his chips, watching his TV—wearing his hoodie (at this point he doesn't even care how you got that in the first place).

you're kicked back, feet on the coffee table, and way too damn comfortable for someone who has been explicitly told to leave at least 500 times.

sukuna scowls.

"okay", you announce, popping another chip into your mouth. "new plan."

he doesn't even look up from his phone. "no."

"you didn't even hear it yet!"

"and yet, i already know it's gonna be fucking stupid."

you ignore him, as always. "hypothetically speaking, what if we got married?"

his head snaps up so fast you think he might've given himself whiplash.

"the hell did you just say?"

"i said—"

"i heard what you said," he growls, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. "the question is, why do you insist on making me suffer?"

you tilt your head, lips curling into a grin. "oh, so you admit the thought of being my husband affects you?"

"i admit that the thought makes me want to set myself on fire."

you hum, unbothered. "well, that's not a no."

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. "explain. now."

"well," you begin, dramatically tossing a chip into your mouth, "if we got married, i'd finally have a legal excuse to annoy you forever."

"you don't need a legal excuse. you're already doing it."

you ignore that. "plus, think about it! you, me, joint bank accounts—"

"absolutely fucking not."

"—matching outfits—"

"i will end you."

"—and cute little pet names! i'd call you 'suku-bear'."

sukuna glares. "i will throw you off my balcony."

"come on! you'd have cute nicknames for me too."

he smirks, and for a second, you think you might've won.

then—

"yeah. it's 'nuisance.'"

you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "how dare you? i was going to give you my last name, and this is how you treat me?"

sukuna levels you with a flat look. "you break into my apartment on a daily basis. you eat my food. you talk too much. you leave your crap everywhere. i should be charging you rent."

"that's actually a great idea! hypothetically speaking, what if i just moved in permanently?"

sukuna exhales so hard you think he might combust. "get. out."

"but i brought dinner," you chirps, holding up a takeout bag. "your favorite."

silence.

a long, long, long silence.

"fine. you can stay."

you grin in victory, setting the food down on the table. "that's what i thought."

sukuna rolls his eyes, snatching the takeout bag like you might change your mind and steal it back. "for the record, i still hate you."

"for the record, you love me," you counter plopping down beside him. "and someday, hypothetically speaking, you'll admit it."

sukuna doesn't respond, too busy stuffing food into his mouth.

but later, when he thinks you're not looking, you catch it—

the way his eyes linger on you, soft in a way they never are with anyone else.

the way his finger twitch, like he wants to pull you closer but refuses to give in.

the way his lips curl just slightly at your stupid jokes, even as he scowls at you.

the way, when you eventually fall asleep on his couch (again), he doesn't wake you up.

he just sighs.

long. heavy. defeated.

then he grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over to you.

not gently, of course. that would be admitting things.

but he lingers. just for a second.

and when you mumble something in your sleep—something ridiculous, something about hypothetically marrying him—he just shakes his head.

because someday—someday—he's going to give in.

he already knows it.

and, damn you, so do you.

[neoanedotheart]

Lazy thing i wanted to do!!! they're just silly :3

I think dave is a pretty princess and John is awkward

I'll be yapping below

I believe that Dave texts John right after he gets his ass handed to him DAILY. It usually plays out like this where they banter and Dave never really goes through the extent of explaining what thoroughly happens to him so John lives in forever ignorant bliss. And this leads Dave to feel like there's more of disconnect because he first of all doesn't really know how to articulate his feelings and second abuse doesn't seem like abuse to the victim. So he goes about everyday unknowingly yearning to be saved by someone greater than him, which is why I put the snow white reference at the end hehe.

Snow white as a fairy tale is extremely cliche, you got the prince in shining armor showing up conveniently on a horse and saving the girl. There's always this hierarchy placed upon the story where the damsel in distress is saved by a man, that man being portrayed as a greater being.

And with John taking place as the prince in this context paints him as this greater being. And I feel like a part of Dave envies and despises John for being this way, for being "perfect" or in a way. Greater than him.

The thing is in the original snow white story she's unconscious, that's undesirable. But it adds to the desperation of wanting to be saved, shining a better looking light on a person who isn't really there for reasons you want them to be. However John is a sincere person, it's more so the lack of communication or true understanding of one another that leads to this rift, this belief that John isn't there for Dave because he loves him, but because he's his friend and it's John's duty as a friend to save him. Which also brings me to the last line where Dave never corrects himself, and how he insinuates that he'll be unconscious due to being placed in a glass coffin much like snow white was when she was poisoned. He's at this stage where he doesn't want to be saved by an outer source, a greater person than him. He wants to be saved by himself he wants to prove worthy, but then conflicting within his mind is also this idea he isn't good enough to. We all know that Dave believes he isn't a hero and explicitly states John is the hero multiple times throughout homestuck. So he stays waiting.

John however, refers to Dave as Cinderella, Cinderella gets abused and put through plenty of torture from her step sisters and is saved through marriage of some person she just met. There's still this base line of being saved by man however there's this more mutual understanding of what they're getting into, a similar yearn for one another. Though he never caught her name he was still willing to find her, the real her. Which is John in this case, he probably understands he's missing something in the big picture but can never find out what and the best he can do is hope that the other half still held on to what they once were and was willing to share.

This is a pre-sburb interaction btw they're just unknowingly foreshadowing a shit ton.

Sorry if there's like bad shitty writing in here, I'm rambling and it's like almost midnight hehe

[avatarofthearchives]

When we see Gerard Keay interact with statement givers he comes across as pretty socially awkward. For example: In TMA 38, he stares at women until she's uncomfortable and then he goes up to her and insinuates that she's ruining his vacation before saying that she's "marked" by something. Then he doesn't elaborate on what she could be marked by. In another example, when interacting with the nurse in TMA 12, after bottles of saline start to bubble, he says “Yes. For you, better beholding than the lightless flame," which, again, is confusing and the nurse explicitly says that she doesn't know what that means.

And I think that's an interesting note on how being raised in a world where the fears were so normalized affected him as a person.

Because the social mistakes he makes when interacting with the statement givers is talking about the fears as they're these casual things, which does nothing other than confuse and scare people who are already disoriented by what they're going through...but the thing is, you can't really blame him for making these mistakes.

After all, the fears ARE normal to him. They're all he's ever known, and from that perspective, it has to be hard to interact with people who have had such a different existence. There's a good chance he doesn't even register how confusing some of the things he says are, because in his world you don't need to explain what a mark is or why it's better to serve The Eye than the Lightless Flame. That's just a fact of life.

And I think this idea that Gerard just isn't good with interacting with normal people is backed up by the way he seems when we hear him interact with Gertrude and Jon. When he's interacting with people inside his world, he comes across as very witty and charismatic, not off-putting in the way statement givers tend to describe. And I don't think that's because the statement givers are painting a false picture of who he is. Rather, he just has an easier time with people who "get it" and (mostly) need as little context as he does.

Anyway, it has been exactly five minutes since I've had too many thoughts about Gerard Keay. But my main one is this: Gertrude should have gotten the chance to fist-fight Mary at least once because who raises a child like that?

[ordinaryschmuck]

With Gooseworx all but confirming that the Jax being an AI thing is bullshit, I personally want to talk about an interesting part about Jax that a lot of theorists used as "evidence" that validates the theory:

Jax's fourth wall breaks are a common topic brought up amongst the "Jax is an NPC" theory. After all, Caine broke the fourth wall in the pilot, knowing full well that the world of The Amazing Digital Circus isn't real and is talking to some unseen viewer as he introduces the Circus Crew.

There's also this bit of official art surrounding Jax's pin:

Where everyone else is inside their room, Jax is outside as pieces of the circus fall apart around him and all of reality to crash. Certainly lends itself to this idea that Jax knows he's not a real person and that his presence could cause great disruption to this world. And he doesn't care because none of it is real. Might as well have fun and cause chaos in a world that doesn't exist.

And I'll admit, all of this seems like valid claims for how the theory could be true. I saw it all and thought that it surely COULD be possible...but there are some things that stop me from being convinced.

Firstly, Caine breaking the fourth wall in the pilot doesn't really seem like an AI talking to the audience. It looks more like an AI programmed to talk to a player as a game boots up. What we saw in the opening could be more like a morning routine that he has to do at least once a day. Plus, we've yet to see any other NPC talk to the audience like Jax has. He explicitly called out the viewers in episode three, knowing full well he's being watched by SOMEONE. Or, at the very least, acting like he is. What do I mean by that? Well, to explain, I'd like to use one of my favorite fourth wall breakers as an example:

Deadpool, in most adaptations, knows fully well that he's a fictional character. He'll talk to the readers/viewers, move the camera around, and constantly talk shit to the writers/studio for occasionally screwing him over. It's all in good (Sometimes bloody) fun...but there's a canonical reason for this. It's not like She-Hulk where the fourth wall breaks are a way to tell HER stories HER way. You see, Deadpool...is just fucking insane.

No, really, that's the reason. Due to the trauma of gaining his powers, Deadpool's mind breaks and he's led to believe that he MUST be a fictional character. In comics, he actually gets voices in his head that makes him think he must be some comic book superhero, and the movies implied that something similar happened given how he never broke the fourth wall ONCE before getting his powers. This means him breaking the fourth wall could be seen as a coping mechanism. After all, it's better to believe you're a fictional character designed to entertain some invisible audience than believe that all of the shitty things that happened to you and people close to you is just a cruel joke from the universe.

Sound familiar?

Going back to the pilot, remember how Pomni's first instinct was to say that the Circus was all just a dream? To her, it's better to live in a lie that everything around her isn't real than to accept the reality that she's stuck in digital purgatory. Jax very well could be going through something similar, but unlike Pomni who seemed to just accept her reality, Jax never did. The trauma of being stuck in the Circus had led to his mind breaking just like Pomni's, Kinger's, and anyone else's. It's just that, for him, he thinks he's coping with it better because he discovered the secret that no one else did: None of this is real.

They're not actually people trapped in some hellscape while an AI unintentionally tortures them. They're all just fictional characters whose tragedies and silly antics are used to entertain viewers. I mean, it's either that or they're real people forever trapped in the circus with the closest thing to death being a full, psychotic break as they give up their sanity because they no longer want to exist in this hell anymore...But that possibly can't be true. Because if that IS true, then Jax has to face that he's a real person stuck in a real, awful situation that he can't joke his way out of. So, it's best to think nothing is real and nothing they do matter. So, might as well have fun with it.

Going back to the pin...

I don't think this is damning evidence about Jax being an NPC. Actually, it perfectly captures who he is as a character. He knows the circus isn't real. He even thinks HE isn't real. So instead of grappling with that, Jax lets himself believe that if nothing is real than nothing he does matters. He can break things, ruin lives, and assist in torturing the others in the circus. It's what he thinks will make the show more entertaining, even though all he's really entertaining is himself so his mind doesn't break more than it does.

Now, could the same apply if he's an NPC? Well...maybe. Gumigoo definitely proves how far someone could fall when they're told their world is fake. He was about ready to give up on life because he didn't think he had one. If Jax was an NPC, I could see him having a similar break, but going in the far opposite direction where, instead of giving up on life, he chooses to live the way HE wants it. Instead of being some one-off NPC for a lame adventure, he could go off on adventures of his own and ruin the lives of others now that his is thoroughly ruined.

However, Gooseworx makes a good point: "...a lot of people come up with theories based on how unexpected they'd be, and not because they make sense or align with the show's themes."

If Jax is an NPC, it would harm the overall message of the show. That there's meaning to be found in a stagnant life, and you find that meaning with people close to you who make that life worth living. Jax represents a sort of foil to that idea, with his way of coping with the madness being pure chaos and breaking others. It's his coping mechanism, and it works because it shows how human Jax really is. They're ALL human and they have human desires and wants, with the Circus pretty much stripping that away and leaving them...as they are now. They're emotionally broken, their sanity is decreasing, and some of them are losing all sense of self. By making Jax an NPC, it would definitely be surprising, but it would take away from that idea. It no longer makes him a human facing his own tragedy but instead an AI that's just as broken as Gummigoo. More than that, it gives the others an easy out. All the crew has to do is tell Caine that Jax is an NPC and POOF! No more annoyance. So making him someone who HAS to stay with the others and they're forever forced to deal with him also adds more to THEIR tragedy and torture.

Jax being an NPC is an interesting theory, but I don't think it's one that SHOULD be true. To me, it's more fascinating watching Jax treat the world around him as meaningless knowing he's a human instead of a rogue NPC breaking everything. And Gooseworx made it clear how they feel about it. Now, could it potentially be a mislead to get fans off the trail? Genuinely...I don't think so. That sounded very "I don't like this idea so it's not gonna happen" type of response. Still, we won't know until the show wraps up. Anything can happen, but don't get your hopes up if a character who does bad things to people that don't deserve it is more human than you think.

[mr-payjay]

Salt's Sexual Harassment of OJ in Inanimate Insanity

this essay aims to prove salt is sexually harassing oj and that the show and the fandom take it much too lightly. it shows proof of her harassment and arguments as to why it is that, and why we should take it seriously.

table of contents

• proof of harassment

• “it's just unrequited flirting”

• “oj never says no”

• “salt is just a lesbian with comphet”

• “inanimate insanity doesn't have anything sexual in it/the harassment isn't sexual”

• “it's just a cartoon/it's just a joke”

proof of harassment

how is this sexual harassment? isn't it just unrequited flirting? there's nothing actually sexual about it, is there? well, I'm here to clear that up.

flirting is okay when it is welcome and wanted. if consent is removed or never given, and the person continues to repeatedly flirt with the other, it becomes sexual harassment. trying to force someone to date you over and over is sexual harassment. insisting someone is dating you and telling everyone that they are, when they are not, is sexual harassment. it is one-sided, forced, repetitive, and uncomfortable, which is what makes it sexual harassment. so let's see some examples of this behavior with salt.

semi descriptive video transcript:

the snowdown: salt implies that walking across the ice with oj is romantic, and he reacts with visible shock and discomfort. salt tells oj he's smart, then starts leaning towards him with mistletoe in her hand as he leans away with an uncomfortable expression. salt holds onto oj on the sled ride and he looks visibly uncomfortable, leaning away. once they reach the end, he looks upset but quiet. salt grabs him for a hug and he reacts with shock.

double digit desert: salt is unable to participate in the challenge, and oj is relieved, saying that her flirting makes him sick.

the great escape: salt sneaks up on oj while he's doing the challenge and grabs him in a hug, where he begins to panic and flail to try and get away.

breaking the ice: salt tells oj they can fix up the hotel together and drags him off as he literally yells “no”.

through no choice of your own: salt claims oj (who is dead and cannot say anything about this) is her boyfriend, gets upset when paper says he's not, then insists he's her ex at least.

objects in mirror: salt walks up to paper and oj and yells at them as they reunite. both of them react with anger and exasperation, oj explicitly telling her to please leave them alone. she is angry while being dragged away.

i also want to acknowledge some extra content here.

in the inanimate comic “complaints”, we see more evidence of her harassing oj, a LOT. all of these advances have been rejected, as she says herself, yet she persists.

and in the inanimate comic “everything's about-oj”, you can see oj's (and paper's) exasperation with salt as she shows up. she's wearing an oj shirt she apparently made herself, assumedly without permission (creepy). and there's an addition from brian to this comic.

this also has some proof of fan stalking oj, but this essay is about salt. knowing oj's “favourite hour to sleep” implies salt is quite literally stalking oj as he sleeps. the rest of the things she (and fan) know about oj are strange and unnecessary.

and here's a photo that exists in-canon where oj is physically pushing her away as she runs towards him and tries to forcibly touch him.

so let's look at some arguments.

“it's just unrequited flirting”

as explained earlier, flirting becomes sexual harassment when it is one-sided, non-consensual, and repetitive. oj is uncomfortable with salt's flirting and salt continues to flirt with him anyway for years on end, no matter how many times he rejects her advances. therefore, it is harassment.

“oj never says no”

oj does say no in breaking the ice. he also rejects her advances multiple times as salt mentions in the inanimate comic “complaints”. however, even if oj DIDN'T say no, that still doesn't mean this behavior is okay. he is showing signs of visible discomfort, he is not consenting, and he is frustrated. silence isn't consent. a lack of a no isn't consent. people can be scared to decline flirting, especially if they might be put in danger! and male victims can be afraid just like female victims are.

“salt is just a lesbian with comphet”

first of all, this is a headcanon, not canon. second, this doesn't excuse her behavior. no matter if it's comphet, psychosis, a program—she's still hurting oj. she is still sexually harassing him, no matter her intentions. whether salt is a lesbian or not, that does not excuse her harmful actions and how they cause pain and fear to oj.

“inanimate insanity doesn't have anything sexual in it/the harassment isn't sexual”

in the proof of harassment i gave earlier, you can see that salt forcibly touches oj without his consent (including when he pushes her away, leans away, or even outright says “no”), tries to force him to date her, and nearly initiates a kiss with him even as he's visibly uncomfortable and pulling away. this type of harassment IS sexually themed. non sexual harassment would be something like calling oj names, gossiping about him, typical bullying, etc. but this is specifically about dating, kissing, and touching him, and that is why it's sexual harassment.

“it's just a cartoon/it's just a joke”

why does this matter? because this is a show for children. no matter your age, this show is a cartoon aimed at kids (many, many people at the osc meetups are children or teenagers, in fact!). i, personally, have seen so many people say what salt does isn't sexual harassment, that it's funny to them, that it's just comphet, that it's just flirting, that it's okay. these are the lessons the show is teaching. it's hard to accept that something IS such a big deal, but what salt does is consistent, harmful sexual harassment, played as a joke. it's disrespectful towards real victims of sa and sexual harassment, and it makes it much harder for fans of the show to recognize when it may be happening in real life, either to them, a friend, or anybody else.

[joejhang]

neil's learned obliviousness

gearing myself up to write another essay about neil josten. the grind never stops. had to figure out why people making neil super clueless and oblivious always rubbed me the wrong way even tho it's technically canon so here it is.

ok so i have a lot of thoughts about neil and obliviousness but i'm gonna mostly condense them into this single thesis statement: neil only pays attention to and notices things he deems important.

we've been knew atp that neil has insane tunnel vision, and that often comes across in his narration. because of this, it's easy to assume that neil is just genuinely very clueless and oblivious when it comes to social interaction and also romantic relationships, flirting, etc.

i know nora herself said that neil wouldn't realise if someone is flirting with him because he's dense as a brick and while i appreciate the comedic value of socially oblivious neil i generally take this characterisation with a grain of salt because it very quickly leans into territory of neil being just generally dumb and inept, which i lowk can't stand because it sanitises and declaws neil a lot and makes him boring and stereotypical.

so i raise you this: neil's obliviousness (if you want to call it that) throughout aftg and in his narration is deliberate. mostly, i think it's all intentional. he literally intentionally refuses to notice or give attention to certain things. and because of his relentless focus on only a couple of things (exy and his survival), things like socialising and relationships get put on the backburner unless they relate to the two aforementioned things.

let's dissect it using examples.

nicky's flirting. neil's narration is pretty clear-cut when it comes to this. he doesn't demonstrate much confusion towards nicky's behaviour except that he doesn't really know why nicky's more interested in him than exy. crucially, he isn't confused about why nicky demonstrates an interest in him (which is because he thinks neil is hot), he's just confused about why nicky is investing energy into flirting with him when, in his mind, there are better things to be doing. it seems, at least in his narration, that he knows nicky is flirting, he just doesn't know why and also doesn't really care to focus on it. aside from an initial discomfort/expression of disinterest, neil doesn't linger on nicky's comments and flirtations for the rest of the series. he narrates it when it's relevant but doesn't make any additional internal comments towards it because it doesn't pertain to his two priorities: exy and survival.

marissa's flirting. i feel like there's two ways to interpret neil's response to marissa's advance "i can give you my number". neil says "what for?" and you can either take this as genuine confusion or just neil kinda being a dick. i lowk never considered the first option and just jumped straight to "neil doesn't really care about hurting this girl's feelings" lmfao. i think i'm right tho, because he elaborates and makes it clear he isn't interested in pursuing relationships outside of the foxes (see: priority no. 1, exy) and when nicky and dan comment on it, making it explicitly clear that marissa was asking neil out, neil doesn't express any confusion over what she was trying to do. people who write neil being genuinely exaggeratedly clueless when being flirted with need to remember that neil wasn't unaware of marissa's intentions during this scene, he was just so aggressively disinterested that he failed to remark on most of it. he never expresses any actual confusion or obliviousness about her flirting.

andrew. ok look. this is gonna require some explaining. first of all let's talk about andrew's attraction to neil on a purely physical level. their nothingship era, if you will. neil's dizzying whiplash during the "that doesn't mean i wouldn't blow you" scene is honestly pretty understandable. like really, who wasn't surprised during that scene? the hints in the previous books about andrew's attraction towards neil were so subtle that most of us readers had to reread a couple times to actually catch the progression and build-up. and also, andrew was high and manic for most of the first two books, so it's understandable that neil probably chalked up a lot of andrew's yapping and odd behaviours to the drugs, rather than a genuine expression of andrew's feelings. that's not to say he discounted the things andrew told him, but since he's always taken andrew at face value, he also didn't doubt andrew's "i hate you" and supposed dislike of him. i think it's actually very very understandable that neil didn't pick up on andrew's attraction to him because 1. why would you ever assume that about anyone anyway 2. neil is pretty preoccupied with being hunted down by his serial killer father and the japanese mafia 3. andrew was NOT making it easy on neil at all. this is partially because andrew himself wasn't ready to face the reality of his feelings for neil and also just his general confusing way of going about things. it makes a lot of sense that even neil, who's generally good at reading andrew and picking up on his hints, would miss whatever hints andrew was dropping about this, if any. and finally, 4. andrew wanting to fuck neil doesn't have anything to do with exy or survival, so neil instinctively filters it out and doesn't think about it a lot. next, i guess we have to talk about andrew's actual feelings for neil. again, we like to make fun of neil for never picking up on the fact that andrew is in LOVE with him during their situationship phase. but again, i think it makes a lot of sense? yes, andrew wasn't exactly subtle about it by a certain point (see: baltimore reunion) but also, neil has literally been pavloved to reject romantic relationships. one of the ways he "justifies" his nothingship with andrew is by assuring himself that andrew is only physically attracted to him. and the other justification is that he sees andrew as intertwined with the idea of his survival, because of the deal they have. keeping andrew close and being in a relationship with him is directly related to his own safety and survival. because neil's lowk manipulated his own thinking to associate andrew implicitly with survival, suddenly their relationship is a lot more prioritised in neil's mind and narration, because it pertains to priority no. 2, survival. i truly, truly believe neil's refusal or inability to see andrew's actual feelings for him is deliberate. he doesn't want to notice that andrew actually is in love with him because that is area he isn't familiar with and he doesn't want to hurt andrew when he dies. but because he obviously does want to continue this little "nothing" with andrew, and because he associates andrew with survival, he's unwilling to let go of him. so he just refuses to notice and remains deliberately oblivious to andrew's feelings for him. it's all very psychological.

final argument: people like to make fun of neil for not realising his own feelings for andrew but listen. he does realise. he never says that he doesn't feel anything for andrew. he never denies being in love with or attracted to andrew, not even in his own head. he registers, literally in trk, after his conversation with nicky, that he sees andrew differently and could be developing feelings for him, but he literally forcibly pushes the thoughts away because they would distract him from priority no. 1 (exy) and priority no. 2 (survival). he also notices in the back half of tkm that their nothingship has taken on new weight and means more than just "nothing" but he avoids acknowledging it with andrew even when he's aware of it in his own mind. so yeah. neil isn't in a state of denial. like at all.

also, neil does notice things when they pertain to his priorities. like, he picked up on jeanee the same way kevin did. he noticed literally in trk the way jean reacted differently to renee, but he only chose to acknowledge and mention it out loud when he could use it to his advantage. and it did work out in everyone's favour, because he brought it up with kevin, kevin gave renee jean's number, and that's how jean was able to escape the nest and survive the year. so, lbr, neil isn't as clueless and out-of-it as the fandom likes to make him. he can be very perceptive and socially aware when it pertains to his narrow-minded priorities.

ok at the end of the day, i can acknowledge: it is not that deep. if ppl want to make neil super oblivious and clueless and socially inept, it's not rlly a big deal. i just personally hate when they dumb neil down when he is honestly such a smart and perceptive character and his intelligence is actually such a huge part of the series. so anyway. i hope u enjoyed this essay, it's been a while so it's a little rough.

[justn0t]

okay I did the beastancient tierlist thing yap under cut. I also only really did the popular ones

- sv is peak no commenr 100000/10

- bc is great cycle of life and death also religious romantic connotations 10/10

- mc is much more interesting to me when mf can't or refuses to like him back and dc hates himself for feeling how he does. more comical suffering for dc as he fantasises about the only person who could truly give him a break from it all who he can never have. everyone he loves is always out of reach. do u see the vision.

-i like and support purelily, shocking I know.. but I feel as though most of the content of it misrepresents their relationship. pv depends on her an unhealthy amount, and she doesn't love him as much as he loves her. they also explicitly say they can't be together like twice in beastyeast. I like it only in a tragic way that will never work out

- pc is valid,, they have lots of very cute moments and I see the vision

- gl good doomed yuri creates amazing fics and art. their kingdom interaction kills me oh they're so tragic

- yellow tier -> very excited but I can't give that much comment about characters we don't know yet.

- light orange tier -> I don't care about these moving on

- I understand shipping characters that don't like eachother but wl and sm viscerally hate eachother for very important reasons and I feel like the only way this works is if they magically get over those. sm hates wl for being the guardian whose life mission is to imprison him and for helping pv escape his mind games in ch1 beastyeast. wl hates sm for indirectly killing elder faerie, putting her kingdom in chaos and tormenting pv. it doesn't work in any context sorry

-i was originally going to put burningmilk in light orange tier but then I realised I respect cacaolily a lot more and they shouldn't be on the same tier. feel like there is little reason to ship them other than size diff fetish and everyone I've seen explaining it hasn't worked for me sorry

- I don't like bs and dc for reasons similar to burningmilk

- observant people may have noticed that purespice is in a separate bottom tier. This is because i hate it a lot. I don't see a reason to like it other than pornagraphic size difference yaoi garbage. they haven't met, bs hates soft and nurturing people, and pv helps the injured. they are literally only put next to each other for yaoi reasons. both are well written characters that deserve to be explored beyond yalls fetishes. it isnt "hes only soft around pv...." omfg would it kill you to not completely change and misrepresent a character so you can shove them into a stupid fandom made mold.

[aroaceleovaldez]

happy pride month here's some of my misc hcs:

Camp was literally founded by a god mythologically known for being gnc and queer (Apollo) and is actively run by another explicitly queer god who also specifically presides over transgender experiences (Dionysus). It's an extremely queer-friendly space.

Will is head of camp's GSA and has been since he joined. He may or may not have founded it.

Regardless, Will is in charge of camp's pride events and is very enthusiastic about it. He's also in charge of teaching about queer awareness at camp probably as part of their health courses that he also probably helps teach, and he has a near comical amount of various pamphlets in the infirmary. He gets very excited about shoving informational pamphlets at people. He made half of them himself. Queer topics are probably a hyperfixation of his.

Trans!Will!!!!! I'm a big fan of the idea of Naomi being a big queer advocate (probably also queer herself) and being super supportive so Will has mostly already socially transitioned before he comes to camp.

Also a big fan of micro-celebrity Will where he's mostly just famous for being Naomi's son and being such a vocal queer advocate. Austin has the popular youtube channel and Will is the niche instagram famous one he clickbaits for views. Symbiotic sibling dynamic.

Lithromantic Drew is very fun to me. Just her not realizing she's aspec and going "idk why it's so hard for everybody else to simply just Stop Being In Love when somebody starts crushing on them back. Must be a skill issue. :T" She figures it out eventually but she still decides it's an everybody else problem.

Transmasc Zia! Zia's only one of two people known to have been possessed by an immortal who doesn't seem to match their gender. Cue Zia thinking real hard about being able to be the Eye of Ra but having an involuntary very physical rejection of hosting Nephthys. Sounds of egg cracking.

Genderfluid Percy. Cue the other 1/2 of people possessed by an immortal who doesn't seem to match their gender. Percy is extra confused at first cause he probably only starts thinking about it once he learns Zia is trans and people explain the gods-matching-gender thing to him and he's like "Huh... but Nekhbet and I aren't the same gender... but also we didn't sync completely? But I wasn't not able to host her? So what does that mean?" It takes him ages to figure out that it's his gender fluctuates so he had Enough Girl™ for Nekhbet to work with but he wasn't a girl at the time so they couldn't sync. I also like to think it takes him an extra while because he prefers he/him pronouns regardless and doesn't really change his presentation depending on gender so all he has to go on is fleeting gender vibes.

Also I think it's funny if he has clownfish gender logic, so he's always like "Why do I never feel like One Of The Guys when i'm with the boys but I never feel more masc than when I'm standing next to the Hunters of Artemis or the Amazons. Weird."

obligatory aroace Leo Valdez mention. i flip flop between Leo not having a qpp or him and Hazel being qpps. QPP Hazeleo is very cute to me.

Camp Jupiter is also extremely queer-friendly. Despite this, Jason is only just figuring out that he's bi. Annabeth is also only just figuring out that she's also bi and it's a funny adventure to watch for everybody else who was already aware of this. Piper and Percy and Will have all known that they're bi for years.

Aroflux Calypso fun yay

okay thats all i can think of for now

[krispycreamcake]

It has come to my attention that people in the fandom don't understand the use of implication, so I will now break down easily as possible for people that don't believe Cordelia sexually groomed Laito. @dl-drama-cd (Tws for rape and incest)

The conversation atop is one shared between Laito and Cordelia. Take note of the background. It is a bedroom. Not the garden or the kitchen or somewhere aesthetic in the moonlight, it is a bedroom.

A bedroom is used for sleeping or as Reiji likes to call it, private activities. We all know that people who usually share a bed are relatively close in terms of relationship, it doesn't matter what kind, they just need to be close.

Cordelia shares no emotional/maternal bonds with her sons. She is often described as crass or cold. Why are her and Laito in a bedroom together if they do not share such a bond?

A bed in media is often used (with context) as a symbolism for lovers sleeping together, because that's exactly where it happens.

How do we know that something more sinister is going on than just a mother and son talking? We can figure this out based on the conversation.

Let's look at what's said between the two.

In the first image, Laito poses a question to Cordi. He asks her, without explicitly saying what "it" is, what's her reason for doing this?

This is a canon interaction between these two characters, where character 1 (Laito), is unaware of the intentions that character 2 (Cordelia) possess. Which is why he is asking her, why she is doing "this", because he does not know why this is happening to him.

Cordelia then explains, also again without directly saying anything, that she does "this" because she loves him. This is Cordelia's reasoning and answer to Laito's previous question.

That's pretty straightforward, I don't think we need a paragraph long analysis on that.

Laito, who then repeats the word, love, in a questioning manner.

Why does he do this instead of just accepting her answer as is?

Because he is simply not satisfied with such an answer. Why isn't he just accepting her word as is? We, don't yet know because once again, the context in this current conversation is not said.

Continuing, we see Cordi backing up her previous statement by saying that there is no world out there where a mother doesn't love a son, and if there is, what kind of world would it be?

She tries to explain that Laito shouldn't question her actions, but rather accept them as they are, because that's an inherent profession of love between mother and son.

Laito, in response, flatly says that a world without love between mother and child, is the one that they live in.

In other words, Laito does not accept that "this" is what paternal love truly is. He believes that his mother does NOT love him, which we can easily pair up with his earlier question "Love?".

Now that we have some form of context to the character's inner thought process and what they are currently feeling, we can put together some pieces on what kind of conversation is actually going on.

At a first glance it can be assumed that a son is doubting his mother's love for him, because well, that's exactly what's happening.

But if we speculate a bit more on the background, and the given context of the conversation, we can now say that the truth of the situation lies within the more subtle clues.

Example #1.

This memory, isn't a pleasant one. This conversation has already happened and Laito is simply remembering it. You can use the images provided to reverse google search the complete scene for further proof, but as already stated, this is NOT a conversation he is very fond of.

Example #2.

The conversation that these two are having, shows us that one person is satisfied while the other isn't for whatever reason that may be. I've broken it down already so you can understand it a bit more, but feel free to once again do your own research.

Example #3.

The implication of the background. Like I've previously stated, I broke it down at the start of this post. But let me be absolutely clear and reiterate this, THE REASON THE BACKGROUND IMAGE IS HAPPENING INSIDE A BEDROOM AND NOT ANYWHERE ELSE (even though you can suck someone's blood anywhere you wanted to) IS BECAUSE THE CONTEXT LIES WITHIN THE BEDROOM ALONE. The creators didn't just randomly choose a free png of a bedroom for a conversation where a child asks a parent why they're doing something, that the child feels like diminishes the sole intent of paternal love. Context clues, matter.

Now then, I'll go on to add another image where I'll make a very short and factual analysis without hypotheticals or opinions being used.

Laito in this scene, is completely naked. He is naked and with a solemn expression on his face, thinking about his mother pleasuring him. He is also reminiscent on the words his mother has told him, that being "I love you, Laito".

Cordelia then says that "That kind of thing is just something given in exchange" when the words I love you, are said. Laito, once again, admits that he was being pleasured while thinking of his mother. [End analysis]

We can speculate that since he is thinking of his mother and pleasure at the same time, she is the one who is giving it to him.

Why do I think this? Because he is completely naked, his only thoughts being his mother's voice. That being said, we can now say that what is being "given in exchange" in Cordelia's words, after saying I love you (or perhaps vice versa, where I love you comes first) is pleasure.

I have a couple of links here we can make with these couple of images alone.

In the first part, we see them talking in a bedroom and the conversation eventually leads to satisfaction, in terms of "once I am satisfied with the outcome, there should be no question". She also references love here, as she does in the latest image I have provided.

With the context that we have now we can equate love to pleasure. And Cordelia states that she loves Laito multiple times throughout just these two scenarios.

Now, my interpretation of this is that Cordelia is clearly raping her son and using "love" as a means to mask, and more so, normalize what is happening between them. (I say normalize because Cordelia tries convincing Laito that this is what goes on between mother and son in the first conversation).

However, even if you do not share the same perspective, it is still abundantly clear that Cordelia Sakamaki, first wife of Karlheinz, daughter of King Burai of the Vibora clan, mother of Ayato Sakamaki, Kanato Sakamaki and Laito Sakamaki, is giving sexual pleasure to her son. Whether it is by bloodsucking, or by sex, or both.

She is sexually grooming Laito by giving him these sensations a mother should not be giving her child, and is committing an act of incest.