#I apologise for the verbosity

[audioletter]

Fluffbruary #3: A Day Off (Weir/Caldwell, SGA)

The list of prompts can be found here.

-

"So."

He stands in the doorway of her office, an imposing figure in his boiler suit and hands on his hips. A wry smile tugs at his mouth, and she fixes him with a firm look.

"So?"

Caldwell moves inside, sitting down uninvited - as usual - across from Elizabeth, and the smile turns into a full-blown one. It's rare to see, and something she loves; a boyish charm radiates from him that she knows she is one of few to experience.

She laughs a little, turning her tablet off and crossing her hands together, giving him her wrapt attention because he obviously has some scheme in mind.

"A little bird," he starts, leaning forward, his imposing frame filling her senses even from behind her desk, "tells me that today is a day of leave for most of you. Including work-a-holic leaders."

Elizabeth sighs, and rolls her eyes. "I don't have time, Steven, for a day off. I have reports and -"

He stands suddenly and puts out his hand. "It's a day off for me, which means it's a day off for you. Come on, chess and champagne sounds pretty good to me right now and you can't tell me the Daedelus and your -" he waves his hands at her desk - "stuff can't wait a day."

A moment of reflection, hesitation; Elizabeth folds like a house of cards in face of his offer because it's him and, frankly, she does need the day off. "Fine. Lead the way," and she takes his hand gently.

—

They start with chess - always chess - and, after she kicks his ass ("I swear you cheat." "Bad loser."), with a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his hand, they head to the South Pier.

"You've never been here before, have you?" she asks, leading him down to the edge of the pier, the saltwater and breeze like a soothing balm compared to the stilted air of her office. This was a good idea, she can't help but think, bumping against his solid shoulder as they reach the edge and sit down, side by side.

He shakes his head, pops the bottle of champagne and pours them both a glass. "I don't think you've ever given me a proper tour of Atlantis, Ms. Weir," handing her the glass of champagne and raising his for a toast. They're plastic, but they attempt a clink - "to us," and she blushes - before taking a long swig of the bubbles. "Other than the inside of your quarters," he smirkes, and she groans, reddening again, feeling the champagne flow down her throat and her inhibitions coming loose like they always seemed to do with face of time with Steven.

"A tour would take a life time."

"I have a lifetime for you."

She smiles, feeling warm from his proximity and the alcohol. "I'm lucky to be here," she says, waving her glass towards the sea and the view. "I miss Earth, but this - this is where I'm meant to be."

Elizabeth feels him take her hand, staring at her, and she looks down at their intertwined hands. Some could dismiss their relationship - if you could call it that - as a roll in the hay every two weeks, a fleeting grasp in the dark, but she'd come to feel something towards Caldwell she couldn't quite explain. Warmth, safety; a humanity in the darkness, the ability to feel like a woman as apposed to a figurehead.

It's neccessary for her to breathe, and she finds she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding whenever he was near her.

"Dance with me?" The stars had come out, the bottle almost empty, and, in a moment of blind faith, she agrees. Caldwell pulls her up, putting aside their glasses and the champagne bottle, and grabs her by the waist. "My lady, may I have this dance?"

She smiles, red-cheeked, and leans into him, putting her head on his shoulder as they move slowly to a rhythm that can't be heard, only felt. The pull of the sea, the hum of Atlantis' lights - she feels at home in his arms, on the pier of the place she chose home so she snuggles closer and allows herself the chance to be free, just for a moment.

"Taking a day off isn't so bad," he mutters against his hair, swaying with her.

"No," she replies, pulling her head up to meet his eyes. "Not at all."

[cottoncandyruby]

@theredquilt had to answer in two parts cos I wanted to include this clip below. Also this is way too long and very mushy because I am all soft inside.

29. Favourite story? So, I'm taking this to mean a favourite story they've shared or story about RandL and while I absolutely adore the "Evidently, I've hurt my left hip" story, the very brief story/memory Link shares in his first deconstruction video has to be my favourite hands down.

It's the "Picture of Forgiveness" story where Link recalls the first time he drank alcohol at a party without Rhett and the aftermath etc.

So, I actually joined the R&L fandom around the time their deconstruction vids came out; I'd been watching GMM and while it made me laugh and endeared me to them pretty quickly, it was seeing them be so vulnerable on EB that made me really fall for them - I was just so impressed by who they were as individuals not just creatives or comedians. They became people I didn't just want to watch but that I wanted to know and hold, just once, if I had the chance. And this moment ^^ was one of so many oh moments where I found myself just floored by the love they have for one another.

The profundity of their connection is consistently astonishing to me, like Link saw Rhett's forgiveness as the natural predecessor to God forgiving him, "if Rhett can overlook this, surely God can" and maybe it's just me and my religious ignorance factoring here but I would've thought it'd be the other way round? I don't know. I just picture a younger Link or even myself at his age and nobody’s rejection would’ve hit me the same way, even when I came out and was rejected by my best friend, it didn't break my heart the way Link's must've when Rhett told him to get out of that car. And then the beauty of Rhett choosing to walk all the way back to Link - I just - what better picture of love or even commitment to a person, a relationship? I just - I can't imagine needing/loving someone that much that at 16/17, my 'rejection' could impact them in such a way, could be compared to the love of a deity.

Sometimes I wonder if they're even aware of how astounding their love is, regardless of whether others, or Rhett and Link themselves, see it as platonic/romantic it's just frickin beautiful. This story also feels like the best encapsulation of their temperaments, their dynamic and the heart of the relationship outside of the humour and the creativity, there’s just an earnest desire to stay and grow beside someone.

Like, Link goes on to talk about how not only were they each devoted to God but that they were devoted to helping each other stay devoted to God, but I think he's omitting the best part: through it all, they are devoted to each other. At 16 they already evidenced the lengths they would go to stay together and I mean the blood oath, its just - there is so little to be sure of in life but they were sure of each other, each little act of "commitment" like this moment like the oath, it's a promise of forever and nobody's signing up to spend forever with someone they don't adore with every fibre of their being.

And to be honest, I just don't know what to do with that other than to write excessively about it on tumblr and to daydream about finding my own forever person(s) one day.

I love their love, this story was when I first realised that there ain't nothing else like it.

[callisteios]

How do you make personality quizzes? I adore your questions and results and been wondering how do you make them work.

ummm you know how in maths class they would ask you 'how did you solve this?' and you have absolutely no fucking clue? yeah

most important thing is that i have a theme that i a. know stuff about and b. have ideas/inspiration about.

e.g. greek gods, a topic i know a fair bit about and am very passionate about is an easy one for me.

i like to try and write results first (but i don't always), pick a tone and go with it. funny/sad/surreal etc. if doing a character quiz or whatever that's easier cause you've got set results, you just need to decide what they mean to you first. e.g. zeus is always presented as like the evil one but to me he's a loser ceo who has way too much responsibility and too many chaotic relatives. so write something to that effect. repeat.

it's harder when you're doing something a bit nebulous. for my what are you the god of quizzes.. that took some time. you just got to let creativity strike i guess?

questions are usually easier. i generally don't stick to the theme the entire time, i think it's fun to mix things up. it's especially fun to play with people's expectations. you can spend ten questions asking people their favourite films and still come away with a decent enough understanding of them to tell them something fun about themselves. people like to be surprised

but again the main advice is just, be creative/be inspired. don't force the questions, i think my worst quizzes are the ones where i've just asked stuff for the sake of having a question. it hasn't told me anything new about the person, it hasn't amused them, it hasn't taught them anything. so yeah cut if you're just going through the motions.

also try to break convention where you can, the entire reason i started making quizzes was because i would always take greek god quizzes and get SO PISSED OFF. they all have the same questions

favourite animal [animals commonly associated with the gods ]

what is your temprament [Stormy like the SEAS? peaceful like NATURE? MUSICAL? PASSIONATE?]

do you more value LOVE or LOGIC?

so do not write a quiz where a person who understands the topic can easily game their way into getting the desired answer. even if someone isn't trying to manipulate their result they're exactly aware of what you're thinking. it's dull and uninteresting. write questions about things you know, if all you know is embroidery ask them what their favourite stitch is, if you're a geologist what's their favourite rock, if you like music then what's the best genre. as long as you're interested they should be too

sorry i know most of that was what NOT to do. but like i said at the beginning, i sort of sit down, zone out for a few hours, and find myself with something mostly finished.

Thank you so much for the ask <3 I'm going through a reasonably horrible period at the moment so it's really nice to hear that you like my quizzes!!! i hope this helps you, make a quiz if you ever feel like it! it's actually quite fun. and if you do make one make sure to send it along !

[blackwaxidol]

"you desire a witness to your emotion and not a thing more. you strike this balance because you are terrified of being perceived as irritating or burdensome so you have conditioned yourself to derive joy from the most basal of human attention and from dissecting your brain and putting it on display and you do not realise that what you are doing is a roundabout manner of reassuring yourself that you are rational and in control and low maintenance and appear so to onlookers. you are a circus animal performing acts beaten into it," says Aries to me.

[minhosimthings]

In Love with a Stripper

Request: hiiii! I love your work and I came up with this smut with a plot thing so it'll be great if you write it! So basically sunghoon and you are fuck buddies and so hoons friend got him a stripper for his birthday and it was you bc you filled up for your friend on that day and yeah yk yk mean dom!hoon punishing yn OMG.

Pairings: Sunghoon × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, reader is a stripper, reader wears revealing clothes, dom!Sunghoon, fem!reader, degradation, oral (f receiving), anal sex, breeding kink, orgasm denial, p in v sex, unprotected sex (nope), swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mean dom Sunghoon, fluffy at the end, slight Heeseung × reader

A/N: alright I apologise this took so much time! I really didn't have any brain left in me to do shit so I had to stetch it out a bit. Thank you for the request anon! That's a nice kinky brain you got there! Also tagging @sumaneun-stars and @candewlsy because they deserve this after Mr Park's weverse selcas.

You never wanted to end up like this. In your entire life, you had never wanted to end up like this.

But here you were.

Fucking your 'best friend forever' while you were madly head over heels for him. But it was the Park Sunghoon, so you had no other choice. After all, the boss of a billion dollar company deserved more than a girl who danced in all the city's clubs. You could very egotistically say that you were basically a celebrity.

Sunghoon had often told you to give up dancing in the club and take up a dancing job somewhere, maybe even set up your own studio. But you had declined, dancing in the neon lighting and having whiskey by the lake, and then stripping off for Sunghoon's cock was more than enough for you. And while he never admitted it, he loved you to. But it wasn't allowed, it would never be, maybe he'd change the rules a bit for it to happen, but for now, it was just strolling off to your house every evening undercover and then jump under your covers. Perfect schedule wasn't it?

Until this faithful day.

"Minnie are you serious right now?" You put your glass onto the table, and stared daggers at the girl sitting in front of you.

"Come on babe, pleeease?" She pouted at you, making the cute face you knew you couldn't resist. Minnie was a lioness when it came to dancing but when it came to you? She was a cub.

"How about Miyeon?" You asked, pressing a finger to your temple. You were stressed today, and now with Minnie's news of her sudden departure and her inability to find someone else to cover her shift added to that stress.

"Nah she's booked for the Banhgs today. They're having some party for their cousin."

"Ugh fine but you owe me." You took another sip of your drink as Minnie excitedly clapped her hands and thanked you in a verbose manner.

"Yeah yeah I know I'm your saviour and all." You rolled your eyes and smiled at her, "Who's the shift for?"

"Uh it's for-" Minnie picked out a paper from her pocket which seemed to be an invite, "A Mr Lee Heeseung. He booked it for a quote unquote 'Park Sunghoon is turning old' party."

The only thing the other people in the bar heard probably for the rest of their life was Minnie's loud scream as you spat out your drink onto the table.

"Bitch what the fuck!?" She whisper shouted to you, diverting the attention of the other bar patrons from you.

"Minnie, I'm begging you, I'll bow at your feet, but not Park Sunghoon's party."

Minnie threw you a weird look and slid her paper across the table to you. No one knew what was happening between you and Sunghoon.

"Yeah no you're doing it, you agreed no take backs!"

And that was how you ended up in the back dressing rooms of one of the most glamorous clubs of Seoul, dressed in something you wouldn't have normally worn, but since it was Sunghoon, you decided to give him a bit extra considering the huge pay you were getting. It turned out that Minnie was actually a special book, carefully picked out by Heeseung, whom you knew you to one of Sunghoon's closest friends. But he didn't know about you, so you were thankful that he accepted you as a replacement when Minnie went out. And of course Sunghoon didn't know you were going to be coming either since Heeseung had specified that you were a top secret, extra gift. Playboys, you scoffed, always thinking women were objects they could play with, although a part of your mind said Sunghoon wasn't like that. Who were you kidding? He was the embodiment of that.

From behind your curtain, you could hear Sunghoon's melodious laughter echo throughout the club. Just get it over with, you thought, just get it the fuck over with.

"And now, our dearest Hoonie, we have a gift for you." Heeseung could be heard saying on the other side of the curtain. You could also distinctively hear Sunghoon, Jake and Jay giggling like idiots.

"Ta Da!" The curtain flew open at Heeseung's words and Sunghoon's face fell flat.

You.

It couldn't be, was this a dream?, his thoughts ran wild, as Jake let out a sound of delight.

But you never danced at this specific club, Sunghoon thought. He knew most of the clubs you danced at, and this one was definetly not on the list.

"Dude, you good?" Jay nudged Sunghoon's arm as Jake and Heeseung made their way closer to the bar on top of which you'd give them a show they'll always remember. Heeseung had thought nothing of Sunghoon's reaction, he knew his friend well enough to understand when Sunghoon was shocked out of delight.

"Y-yeah I'm good thanks." Sunghoon answered, not taking his eyes off of the heaven in front of him. God you were looking extra attractive today. Perhaps it was the dress, or maybe the hair, or maybe the fact that you were dancing for him, for the first time.

Sunghoon moved a bit forward and sat directly in front of you, your legs dancing in front of him. If heaven's incarnate existed as a stripper, it would have been you, Sunghoon thought, as he looked up at your eyes, darkened and hooded like a cat's. Your hips seemed to have the universe on a belt, as they moved in synchronisation with the atmosphere. Sunghoon wanted nothing more but to brag that he had seen what was inside of the outfit you were wearing, as he heard Heeseung and Jake making comments on your waist.

"Nuh uh you can look don't touch." You bent down to Heeseung's level, his hand slowly retreating from your legs.

"Can I dance with you then?" Heeseung smirked at you. Although you never admitted it, you had always found Heeseung hot. The bastards smirk combined with his pretty eyes made you have a tiny bit of an urge to fuck him atleast once.

"Is the birthday boy not enjoying my performance?" You directed your eyes at Sunghoon, who widened his eyes to an almost comic level, "Or maybe he wants to join?"

You knew doing whatever you were doing right now would have it's consequences but boy were you enjoying teasing Sunghoon right now.

"Heeseung hyung can go first." Sunghoon leant back on his chair, spreading his legs a bit further. He gave you a cocky grin, one you knew way too well for it not to say 'you're going to be punished.'

You carefully tread down the platform onto the ground, with the support of Heeseung's very soft hands (you kept the thought of asking him what hand cream he used to yourself), your hips jutted against his. Yes this was not according to the job, to be grinding against a customer, but it wouldn't matter if one of the customers was the man you had inside you every night was it?

"God you're hot." Heeseung whispered in your ear, his hips moving in sync with yours, "You single?"

"Somewhat." You replied, throwing your arms onto Heeseung's neck. Jay and Jake had found other people to dance with too, and you couldn't spot Sunghoon anywhere.

"Where's Sunghoon?" You asked Heeseung, peeking over his shoulder, which made him raise a brow at you. God Heeseung smelled good too. Not as well as Sunghoon's pine cologne but this was fine.

"You know him well?" Heeseung asked with a smirk on his face, which made you laugh and shake your head. His crotch was now grinding against your clothed pussy, but you didn't budge.

"We know each other, like a bit. Why you want to steal me from him?"

"Your friend Minnie," Heeseung started, his arms squeezing your waist tighter, "She has another date with her boyfriend tonight. Oh yeah her boyfriend? It's me."

Your gasp was probably heard throughout the entire club. "Shut the fuck up absolute no way!" You laughed, looking at Heeseung's amused face, "The bitch never told me!"

"Well it's a secret." Heeseung shrugged his shoulders, "So can I know your secret now?"

"Hyung can I have a piece of her now?"

Before you could even open your mouth, Sunghoon's voice ran behind you, and as you spun around on your heel, there he was. Looking like the angriest man on earth.

"Sure she's all yours." Heeseung let go of your waist, "I'll see you then, pretty."

You were thankful that Sunghoon didn't hear Heeseung's last words which he carefully whispered into your ear.

"Try to stay alive."

"So you like Heeseung hyung huh doll?" Sunghoon cocked his head to the right, loosening his tie from the grasp it had on his neck.

Fuck he looked hot in dim lighting, you thought. You were surprised when Sunghoon didn't say anything to you at the club nor in the car when he took you home. It was...weird, to have him talk so casually with you, as if you were husband and wife, not even a tint of anger in his voice.

But as soon as you stepped foot in the house, you learnt why he did that. The touch of the cool metal of the handcuffs on your wrist made you wince as you tried to wriggle out of their grasp.

"So what if I do?" You spat, not looking at Sunghoon, "You never thought about telling me what I actually am to you so I thought I might look for..newer horizons."

"Oh yeah?" Sunghoon wore a cunning grin like an arctic fox ready to pounce on its prey, "Well we'll see about that later."

Bending down to your legs, Sunghoon spreads them further apart, his skin pressing against yours like hot iron. It was pathetic how the mere touch of his fingers made you whimper in pleasure.

Your cunt is already so wet, your folds swollen and muscles relaxed, ready and desperate for Sunghoon’s touch. He gently slides a finger into your entrance with little resistance. You clench around him as you search for his lips, which find yours instinctively. 

Sunghoon slides his finger out of you slowly. Your beloved was still mastering your body, but he always seemed to know when you were ready for more. As he slides a second finger into your entrance, he breaks your kisses, watching you as you take more of him. He pushes his long fingers into you until he is knuckles deep, which evolves your little whimpers into breathless moans.

Your wrists ached for the touch of his hair, his soft curls all tangled up between your fingers, but the handcuffs weren't allowing it. Your wriggling under Sunghoon's body made him chuckle.

"No can do baby." His eyes darkened, "Take my fingers like a good slut there we go."

Sunghoon watches as he unravels you with the curl of his fingers deep inside your cunt. Your eyes roll at the intense sensation, and you’re already seeing stars.

As Sunghoon is hitting that sweet spot deep within you, his thumb begins to circle your clit, causing your eyes to go wide as carnal pleasure possesses you. 

Suddenly, Sunghoon pulls out his fingers from you slowly, watching your needy expression with a smirk.

"You really think you can cum on my fingers after all you've done?" Sunghoon asks you, his fingers still lingering over your labia, you realised that your cunt was clenching around nothing even when he pulled out, "Whose slut are you now?"

You were confused as to whether or not you should give him an answer or not so you gave him a quizzed look, which he seemed to definetly not like.

"No answer? Tch tch." He clicked his tongue, "Answer me slut, and I'll think about letting those cuffs off."

He leaned forward and stared into your eyes with darkened eyes. "Whose fucking slut are you?"

"Y-Yours Daddy."

"Louder."

"Your- Ah fuck!" You let out a whimper of pleasure as his bulge rubbed over your pussy. Sunghoon reached over and carefully removed your cuffs. You let out a sigh, feeling satisfaction wash over you at the retreat of the col metal.

"Turn over," he said while pulling away, "all fours baby."

You followed his demands and pressed your face into the pillow, facing the side of the room where a large mirror sat, you watched him in the mirror as he pulled his sweats down letting them rest below his thighs, followed by his boxers. His cock sprung out hitting the fabric of his shirt, causing him to let out a hiss through his teeth. His tip red and needy, leaking with precum.

"try and be quiet." Sunghoon said while rubbing you lower back with his hands. You hummed in response while still watching him in the mirror as he lazily tugged on his cock before lining it up with your entrance, rubbing it up and down your slit, collecting your arousal before placing his tip into you.

Quiet moans and curses left his mouth as your ass bounced off his pelvis, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

With every grind and suckle on your clit you were getting closer and closer to coming. It was a wet and filthy experience, your arousal dripping down Sunghoon’s chin and soaking his face. You could feel it down your thighs, his chin scratching against your delicate skin with every jaw movement, every grind. 

You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs as he picked his pace up, your eyes having no place to go but the back of my head. You both gave up on being quiet a while ago, more whimpers and groans filled the room.

“mmh, s-so close.” you moaned pathetically while gripping onto the pillow. You felt a sort of shame, feeling this good because of Sunghoon, who, at the moment, you were supposed to hate with all of your heart.

Wth one quick movement he pulled out and flipped you over, his eyes now locked onto yours.

"No cumming until I say so got it?" He growled in your ear, strands of his hair falling onto his face, making him look celestial. Not having the strength to answer him back, you whimpered, feeling his tip at your pussy.

“Say it.” He murmured, squeezing his fingers on the side of your neck to make it all woozy. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“I want your cock… Daddy… please.”

You’re such a whore, the way you gasp at all the right times as his big cock stretches around your tight walls. He bets you’ve taken cock hundreds of times, but he’s determined to be the best, making sure you know what you’re worth. No one else deserved you, only he deserved you. Now, and forever.

He’s really pounding you now, hands gripping roughly at your hips in an attempt to drive himself further into your cunt, watching as your pussy leaves a milky ring around his base. His hair strands dangle in his face as he bends down to shove himself deeper into you.

‘god, you’re taking me so well,’ he grunts, bucking his hips in pleasure. ‘such a fuckin’ whore though.’

"Nuh uh not yet baby not yet." He says, grinding his hips against you again. Your fingers are pulling at his curls again and you're hopelessly taking what he's giving to you.

"I wasn't—" One of his hands trails down to your wet cunt, rubbing your clit a few times before pinching it softly. Your whiny moans only encourage him, feeling you clench around his fat cock. He pulls out before slamming himself back into your tight hole, pinching your puffy clit even harder.

"you were made for me. you're my whore." he whispered in your ear, licking your jaw as he thrusted mercilessly into your holes.

The sounds of skin slapping, squelching, groaning, whimpering, and moaning were the only things you could hear. The occasional degrading things or sweet nothings Sunghoon would whisper into your ear made your brain go foggy.

"gonna fill you up good n’ proper..." he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and biting into your neck, "Want to have my kids hmm princess?"

"Ah fuck-fuck- a-ah." You moaned, not being able to answer his question.

Your legs wrapped around him letting him know that you were close. Sunghoon had an urge to pull out, to teach you a lesson. But something in him told him to let you cum in him, to let him make you a mother, his child's mother. Tears streamed down your eyes as the pressure in your stomach built up.

“Daddy—‘cummin” you moaned out. Sunghoon began to fuck you harder and faster. You felt the tip hit the plushy part in you. Your brain turned into mush and drool began to run down your mouth.

“Cum for me princess. I wanna hear you scream my name~” he said in such a sweet sultry voice.

The knot in your stomach snapped.

“SUNGHOON!”

“Cum with me, my darling.” Sunghoon whined with you, bringing his lips down to yours once again roughly. The moment his kiss was brought upon you, you felt like you exploded with pure bliss. Your legs shook against his arms again as you damn near screamed into his mouth. Sunghoon wasn't far behind you, moaning loudly into your own mouth as his cum spilled into you.

It wasn’t until after some time, when Sunghoon's cum was dripping against your walls, and his seed was flowing out of you that he pulled out. You were drooling, eyes rolled back and cum pooling on the bed.

Not saying a word to you, Sunghoon made his way off of the bed, and into the bathroom, where he quietly picked up all the stuff he knew you loved for aftercare.

"Hoonie..." You whined, feeling the empty space next to you, "I want to cuddle."

The sight of your pout melted Sunghoon's heart, and he couldn't resist. Cleaning you up quickly and lighting your favourite scented candle Sunghoon promptly jumped into bed and pulled you into his arms, his body heat successfully warming you up.

"I didn't hurt you did I?" Sunghoon asked you, looking down at you.

You simply nodded your head no and snuggled closer to him, sniffing in his cologne.

"Im sorry Y/N." Sunghoon sighed, positioning your face to his. His eyes were simply sparkling at you, and his expression seemed genuine.

"Im sorry for what I haven't said to you for so long." He breathed out, you could feel his heartbeat become quicker, "I love you, I really do, and-and I want us to be more than just friends."

"Why didn't you say so before you fucking idiot?" You giggled, pulling him in for a brief kiss, "I love you too."

"So, now you're my wife?"

"Girlfriend first Mr Casanova."

[sailtomarina]

I don’t regret it

cw: smut, feels

She watched the sliver of light arcing across the bedspread and his white blond hair. The curtains didn’t completely block out the sunlight. Hermione could reach for her wand to spell them shut if she knew where it was; at some point she’d lost it the previous night amidst the frantic fumbling. It was probably somewhere on the floor along with the rest of their clothing.

Even in sleep, he was breathtaking. His face glowed with a translucence that defied the lines of stress he wore when awake. The lips that scowled more than smiled these days were parted as he breathed deeply, pale pink and inviting. She shivered as she recalled the way they’d felt against her own, how they’d glided down her torso and discovered every sensitive point of her body. Silver grey eyes had glinted upward, frequently checking in on her every reaction as he wrung pleasure out of Hermione.

They hadn’t spoken a word since the kiss that started it all. They hadn’t needed to, their bodies communicating what their tongues could not. Draco, yes, “Draco”, not “Malfoy” anymore, seemed to need her more than life itself that night, and Hermione was compelled to respond in kind. She was a volatile potion of emotions just waiting to explode given the chance, and shatter she did in the arms of a young man she’d fallen deeply, passionately, irrevocably for over the course of the past few months.

Like the barely-there kiss, her feelings started small.

No. That wasn’t correct.

Her feelings for Draco had always been large; volatile, really. She’d hated everything he represented, the way he’d treated and looked at her, the years of animosity that they shared. But, she also pitied him. That pity, as threaded through with distrust as it had been, had transformed into begrudging respect.

He’d apologised to her. It hadn’t been overly passionate nor verbose. He’d found her alone and offered his remorse. He’d even go so far as to clearly state that forgiveness was not expected; he didn’t think he deserved it. Then, he’d gone his way and Hermione was left with an inner turmoil that struggled in search of an outlet.

She’d always known he was clever, and now with nothing but his studies to focus on, Draco finally showed what too much pressure and pride had stifled: a hungry mind that took mistakes in stride and used them as stepping stones to higher knowledge. For once, Hermione had a worthy rival.

And now, she was in his bed.

He sighed, then grumbled as the shaft of light hit his eyes. He turned further towards her, hands reaching out to tug her close. She allowed herself to be tucked against his chest, naked skin to naked skin. His heart beat strong and steady beneath her splayed hand. Circe, she loved breathing him in, a combination of body soap, woodsy cologne, and his own masculine scent. Slightly salty, probably from their exertions as he brought her to orgasm not once, not twice, but three times, once with his hands, then with his mouth, and finally on his cock as he folded her nearly in half to press in almost painfully deep. She’d relished the ache then, just as she delighted in the way her muscles smarted even now. They were reminders of their time together. If this turned out to be a one-time thing, then at least she’d always have that.

She sensed the moment he woke up, his steady inhales stuttering and turning into shorter intervals. Perhaps if she kept silent, she could hold on to this moment just a little bit longer. With their legs tangled together and his arms wrapped around her, Hermione could pretend that she was his and he was hers.

She bid her breathing to remain slow and measured. Kept her body relaxed. When his hand drifted down her back to cup one buttcheek, she fought to stay still. Then he tightened his hold and pressed his hips to hers and she felt him, hot and hard and wanting.

She could keep pretending to be asleep, but she wanted him inside of her more. It was time to open her eyes.

When she did so, tilting her head upward in the process, it was to find Draco already looking down at her. Eyes half-lidded, lips parted and descending. She met him part way. Any sour breath they might have had was overpowered by the sweetness of this kiss. It was soft, lingering, his tongue lightly rubbing against her own as he rotated his length against her in an unspoken question to which she arched in acceptance.

He rolled them so hovered above her, limbs caging her in, his soft hair hanging down into his eyes, which closed as he leaned forward to press his forehead to hers.

“Do you regret it?”

The first words since yesterday, and this was what he asked?

She realised that, like her, Draco was just as uncertain about the future. They’d never clearly stated their feelings about one another; they’d just gone with the flow and she’d assumed his heart was more fortified than her own.

“I wouldn’t be here if I did,” she replied. She opened her eyes to stare up at him, willing Draco to see the truth for himself. She wanted to be here, wanted him now and for as long as time allowed.

“Good, because I’m yours now.”

Her heart hammered at the declaration. The tightening of his jaw and his intent stare underlined the statement. She felt overwhelmed, tears of relief and desire threatening to spill. She could only nod, afraid she’d burst into ugly sobs and ruin the moment. That seemed to be enough for him.

He captured her lips, fitting the broad head of his cock to her opening at the same time and slowly pressing forward. It was tight, but she was wet with want and had been almost from the moment she’d woken up. She spread her legs to make more room for him, and he took advantage, thrusting to the hilt and groaning into the kiss as he did so. She felt impossibly full, even though she knew she’d taken him even deeper before. Even if she hadn’t, she could no longer deny him anything.

He brought a hand back down to tilt her hips at just the right angle for his pelvis to grind against her clit with every unrelenting drive of his cock. Along with the slide of his swollen shaft within her throbbing walls and the way his other hand plucked at her nipples, Hermione found herself right back at the precipice of her apogee. It was agonisingly close, yet still she withheld herself from the plummet, wanting him right there alongside her.

Draco picked up on her whining pants. She clawed at his muscled back and shoulders, and still he forged onward, pulling back nearly to the tip only to press right back into her depths, his balls slapping against her arse. Hermione might have blushed at the sound if she had the presence of mind to think of anything outside of him inside of her, but that was as likely as her ever letting go of him. She was beyond embarrassment or reproach.

He sounded pained as he moaned, low and deep, and Hermione could feel the way he thickened within her just before he froze, the tendons of his neck taut as he threw his head back. As the first spurts of his spend spilled into her, she finally let go, crying out her own release that seemed to go on and on as her body milked him of every last drop.

He caught himself on his forearms before falling on top of her, but Hermione wasn’t having any of that. She wrapped her arms around his neck and yanked him down. His weight was a comfort she could never find overbearing.

“Stay?” she murmured. She swept her hands up and down the warm planes of his back, then hugged him to her, holding tight to the shoulders that carried so much. Too much.

He chuckled, the puff of air tickling the crook of her neck where he rested.

“Always.”

1367 WC

2.25.24 Twitter prompt from DramionePrompts “I don’t regret it”

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3 (eventually)

I originally meant to write this as straight up unapologetic smut, but then couldn’t resist a bit of backstory. Ahhhhh! Why does the story always have to sneak in there somehow?

[morally-grey-girlbosses]

(Art for Commander Wake, John Gaius, and Ianthe Tridentarius used courtesy of @midnightcrows. Check her out, her art is fantastic!)

The top two characters will be eligible to proceed into the bracket!

Propaganda under the cut. Be warned, it is extensive - Locked Tomb fans are apparently... verbose.

Commander Awake Remembrance Of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back To Reality Oops There Goes Gravity:

Leader of a terrorist organization devoted to killing God. After she died she hung on as a revenant through sheer self-righteous hatred, tried to kill two different saints, and tried charging God with crimes against humanity. Also she carried her daughter to term solely for the sake of killing her as a ritual sacrifice, and referred to the child only as "the bomb" throughout the series. She's morally ambiguous (instead of just awful) because she's probably right, but it's honestly a close-run thing.

She was the leader of an insurgent force who hate necromancers and want to destroy God, who are descended from filthy fucking capitalists. She was the most successful leader in years. She fucked a guy ordered to kill her and the guy's dead best friend who sometimes inhabited his body. She allied with two of God's saints to unlock the tomb. The saints fucked god and stole his cum. All the eggs the saints gave her died so she impregnated herself with the god cum and gave birth to a baby. She called the baby bomb. Her lover pushes her out of the airlock. Her ghost angrily recants his name and the people who find her baby name her after him. She possesses her daughter's two handed sword. Her daughter jumps on a fence to sacrifice herself for her homoerotic archrival slash best friend, and said best friend becomes one of god's saints. She possesses the body of one of god's dead saints to rekindle her relationship with the girl possessing the body of the guy who killed her. She invades her daughter's rival slash lover slash friend's mind and attacks ghosts contained in her fucked up dream bubble. She starts moving around the space station they're on in the real world while her daughter's consciousness possesses her arch rivals body after her arch rival enters said dream state. she saves her daughter with god's life. She argues with god and tries to charge him for war crimes. her ex kills her. but none of that matters what really matters is that “I KISSED YOU AND LATER I WOULD KISS HIM TOO BEFORE I UNDERSTOOD WHAT YOU WERE, AND ALL THREE OF US LIVED TO REGRET IT—BUT WHEN I AM IN HEAVEN I WILL REMEMBER YOUR MOUTH, AND WHEN YOU ROAST DOWN IN HELL I THINK YOU WILL REMEMBER MINE” this quote. this quote is amazing. “I WILL REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME YOU KISSED ME—YOU APOLOGISED—YOU SAID, I AM SORRY, DESTROY ME AS I AM, BUT I WANT TO KISS YOU BEFORE I AM KILLED, AND I SAID TO YOU WHY, AND YOU SAID, BECAUSE I HAVE ONLY ONCE MET SOMEONE SO UTTERLY WILLING TO BURN FOR WHAT THEY BELIEVED IN, AND I LOVED HIM ON SIGHT, AND THE FIRST TIME I DIED I ASKED OF HIM WHAT I NOW ASK OF YOU” also this one. anyways vote commander wake

Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity is commonly called Commander Wake. Her people are being colonized and oppressed by the Emperor Undying, the immortal emperor of a society of necromancers. Commander Wake is the leader of the resistance against this occupying force. As for her character: Commander Wake is unscrupulous and unyielding, definitely more prone to "the power of incredible violence" than "the power of love". She will use any methods at her disposal to fight back against the necromancers. She is described as proud and unforgiving. She never backs down and her strength of will and determination are unmatched. Some of her girlboss moments (spoilers for the entire The Locked Tomb book series): She is the only one the Emperor and his people consider a worthy foe. She colludes with the Emperor's most trusted soldiers and in fact has sex with two of them (who share a body but that's not important right now). She needs the Emperor's blood to defeat him, so she gets her colluding buddies to get her some of his semen to grow a child. When it doesn't go quite to plan, she simply decides to carry the child herself, fully intending to kill it for its blood when it is born. After she is killed, she haunts a sword (and the narrative) for years and years. Later she possesses a corpse and comes face to face with the Emperor, where she proceeds to argue with him about his warcrimes and never backs down. The woman she slept with is still obsessed with her a full book after her double-death. She had no necromantic powers but with technology and military strategy worked to understand and mitigate how necromancy works and what it can and cant do. She insists that the Emperor Undying use her full name, to his face, even when she is completely at his mercy! Her determination is strong enough to bend the genre of an entire haunted dream to her will! When the necromancers come at her with swords she comes at them with. Gun

John Gaius, His Celestial Kindliness, the First Reborn, and The Necrolord Prime

John Gaius, His Celestial Kindliness, the First Reborn, and The Necrolord Prime is the Emperor and primary deity of The Nine Houses. He is perhaps (major spoilers for The Locked Tomb) not technically a girl, but by god does he - Gaslight (Erasing his friends' memories then telling them lies about their past and imposing his perceptions of their personalities onto them) - Gatekeep (Telling his closest followers they need to kill their life partners in order to become immortal WHICH IS NOT EVEN TRUE. John keeps the method of how HE became immortal a secret from them!) - GIRLBOSS (creates a multi-planetary society that worships him as a God) He is also morally grey: He necromantically resurrected millions of people after a planet-wide cataclysm. He caused said cataclysm by nuking the earth. He only nuked the earth because he wanted to stop the billionaires from escaping the planet, because in doing so they left everyone else to die. He wanted to save everyone. He loves the Earth. Even though he is a man he is SUCH a morally ambiguous girlboss

Prince Ianthe Naberius the First, the Lyctor Prince, the Saint of Awe, previously known as Ianthe Tridentarius, the Princess of Ida, heir to the House of the Third, Mouth of the Emperor, the Procession, House of the Shining Dead:

shes tall pale and has no ass. she has the ability to manipulate her fat distribution so she chooses to look like a wet cat. everybody forgets about her because her sister is so hot, but while everyone else is fucking around and trying to figure out whose been killing people, shes been figuring out the secrets to an ancient necromantic theorem. it turns out her hot sister isnt actually a necromancer and ianthe has been doing the work of two necromancers her whole life. she regularly does cannibalism. she eats the soul of her cavalier, who nobody cares about, and becomes a saint of the king undying. her sister is deeply upset that she did not eat her. she gets her arm ripped off by one of the original states. she performs a lobotomy on one of the main protagonists because she asks her to. they have immensely homoerotic tension but its entirely one sided. she cries every night. her soup recipe amounts to burning onions on the bottom of a pot. the scene in which said main protagonists creates her an arm out of bones is the closest the series has to a sex scene. she meets the other main protagonist and says "but your fist is so large and my ass is so small". she stops god from being killed, which everybody hates. in the space between books, she has a terrible terrible no good friend ship with the main protagonist i mentioned before. i love it. they probably fucked and it involved chussy. they have friendship bracelets. she possesses the body of her dead cavalier who nobody cares about to gallivant around in. shes dangerously obsessed with her sister, who after not being eaten has been radicalised and now is a leader in an insurgent cell. she is the target of "then perish" during the epilogue. apparently in the next book she is going to do something horrible. i love her immensely. she has very few redeeming qualities. she is my best friend

listen. she ate a man's heart to become immortal. she is described as the shadow of her twin sister. she calls the protag a fruitcake. she will betray anyone and anything to get what she wants.

Wet Rat who sucks commits cannibalism for won her way through the lyctor olympics of the first books ate her cavalier to go to gods party swinger yatch. She has no fucking idea of what she's doing but she's slaying all day everyday, literally and figuratively. Made everyone believe that her twin sister was a super good necromancer while her sister has no powers by necromancing for her in secret. Idk she's just. She's just so.

The uglier of the supposed pair of the genius necromantic princess twins. Jk, she’s the only necromantic one she's just so good she seems like two geniuses combined, she flies under the radar, doesn't take part in gruesome lessons on powerful necromancy but just figures everything out by thinking alone, kills a dude she known her whole life the moment she learns it will give her more political and magic power, does a truly villainous monolouge when caught for that murder cause who cares about a male dying why are you so mad. Then later murders her much stronger beloved mentor the minute she's asked to gain even more power and prestige and from a princess of one planet becomes a saint and prince and military powerhouse of a divine empire, loyal only as long as her hotter twin sister is safe, truly an inspiration for all feminists everywhere

Harrowhark Nonagesimus was submitted without propaganda.

[homosexualjavert]

It appears M. Fauchelevant and Monsieur le Prefect care for you even when it comes to a disadvantage to themselves, despite your reservations about it. You have no choice in the matter: get cared for, Inspector! (You are still old enough to retire- perhaps you could live out the rest of your days with Monsieur Fauchelevant.)

I believe I have seen a few rather cryptic and tasteless messages sent to you on this page. Now, I cannot make heads or tails of what the sender was talking about, but it upset you, which upset Monsieur Fauchelevant, and although I still hold some level of contempt for you, I hold your friend in high regard. Who shall I get into fisticuffs with, hm? That Marius fellow may not have returned your pistols, but I certainly have my own!… Wait, forget I said that. I don’t condone violence. Clearly.

And an officer of the law getting thrown into the Seine?! That is a rather bold move, I am surprised someone would even attempt such a feat with how formidable you appear. It is good that you are healing, perhaps you could acquire a gift for M. Fauchelevant in return for the flowers and his care when you feel well enough. And a nice cane would be a good addition to your typical ensemble, maybe one with a hidden blade on the inside!

I suppose you are no stranger to me (you are a difficult man to forget, for better or for worse), although the reverse is likely untrue. I was born and raised in M-sur-M: I recall when Monsieur le Maire and later you first came into town, actually. You haunted the streets like a gloomy, imposing, absurdly tall specter. I gave the farm to my younger brother and moved to Paris shortly after you, well, arrested Monsieur Madeleine/Jean Valjean/whatever his name is for the second time apparently, according to the papers. Then Monsieur Fauchelevant moved here with his daughter, and then he suddenly adopted you, and so here we are!

Does Monsieur Fauchelevant give alms because he wishes to cure the poor of their poverty due to how much he hates them…? Is that the true reason why he decided to nurse you back to health like a fallen baby bird and take you in? You give me much to think about, Monsieur l’Inspecteur.

— M.M.

P.S. I feel the need to apologise for how verbose my messages are… Pardon.

Hm. I've accepted that they appear to care about me. Still, I can't imagine why. I am NOT old enough to retire, and I certainly will not.

I have no idea where those strange messages come from. I don't doubt I've made some enemies in my times. Please do not hunt them down like a vigilante.

Hm.. A gift isn't a bad idea. When I am more healed, perhaps I will..

I must admit I do not recall many of the people from M-S-M. I did not pay attention to much of the gossip or people.

Er... Yes. That is why he gives... alms...

I am NOT a fallen baby bird, and I must ask that you stop comparing me to such pitiful creatures, sir! I am a man! A human man! A big human man, who is large! And tough! And NOT a bird.

Don't apologize for your messages. At least they give me something to think about. Ahem.

[cycle-hit]

realising ive never put into words character speech/think patterns that ive absorbed while having to write them nd i need to so. here u go.

haruka - guilty of not rly paying attention to how he speaks so i have less knowledge of it. used to stutter over his words a lot in t1, had a poor grasp of vocabulary. in t2 he stutters less/not at all, his vocabulary has improved but because of this i like to think he probably speaks close to how muu does (since she taught him) (i have no idea if this is canon or not)

yuno - lots of usage of the word "bothersome". presents a facade that she cares more than she actually does. i dont have a lot of thoughts on how i write her honestly- she's close enough to myself that i just WRITE her speaking manner as myself but a little different. she has a habit of teasing people. can be sexual (in speech) at times. homophobic dog. can make people uncomfortable with her knowledge of them or her general attitude. warmth.

fuuta - also guilty of analysing him less. i just write him sort of like how i speak to people im close to. has a regular angry anime boy speech pattern thats actually not angry- mixed with twitter user. in t2 he develops cult speak habits which actually makes him sort of hard to write bc i have to google things like "Religious words" "Words like salvation" every time i write his dialogue. hes stupid as all fuck.

muu - she's so fuckign funny. "passive aggressive" teenager in high school. says "muu" instead of stuff like "i" or "me/my" 10x more than mahiru's habit. doesnt "care" for most people she speaks to and it shows (unlike yuno's facade). spoiled rich girl. can be ignorant and not necessarily always on purpose. shes just a mean teenager man idk what much else to say about her speech patterns. in t1 she actually used to trail off a lot and hesitate to speak bc she was scared

shidou - guilty of not looking into him a lot. has a habit of "looking down" on the people he's speaking to with the sole exception of kazui (though he tends to think of kazui solely as Older Man Like Me rather than anything. deeper?? idk if that makes sense). verbose like some other little furry shit that i know. doesnt emote well. i write him like myself as well

mahiru - MAHIRU!!! in t1 she used to say her own name a lot like muu. in t2 this changes- she doesn't say do it as often. she apologises a lot in t2. low self-esteem that she makes known in speech whenever talking about herself. she just wants people to be happy. references her magazines/stuff she reads a lot in t1- im always rly sad she's lost this trait in t2. i want her lit major-ness back. sunshine incarnate that's been extinguished. "airhead" and "carefree" are words that describe her but i also tend to write her as being slightly hurt by them- its likely not a nice feeling to be thought of as "stupid" in gentler terms. i like to write her as more observant than people think though i dont think this is canon- she's lit major.......come on milgram...make her strange!!! let her observe people like those who like writing are so prone to do!!!!!!!! cant handle anyone making fast/unpredictable movement towards herself anymore after t2. also. NANDE, NANDE NANDE? (constantly questioning why.)

kazui - i need to analyse him more. his gaze makes people uncomfortable, notably those who dont like parts of themselves "seen". likely an aftermath of his employment of being a detective- he has to be able to know and analyse people accurately. reminiscences on his younger days a lot. i miss my wife tails i miss her a lot.

amane - guilty of not analysing her speech patterns at all actually. verbose. stuck in a cult. more "childish" than she lets on and tries to conceal this fact.

mikoto - i have to make sure he talks about work. tendency to present himself as more "simple" than he is. john speaks more aggressively. "carefree" like mahiru but less and more self-aware.

kotoko - oh boy. stupid fucking verbose bitch she takes so fucking long to write especially since i have to do her pov you have no god damn idea. she is constantly analysing and overthinking everything around her it doesnt stop. blunt. asks a question in return when she doesnt want to answer a question or gives short statements like theyre fact. struggles to read social aspects bc of her paranoia. uses the word "ridiculous" and "-ne?" ("right?") a lot. as well as "evil" or "sinners" or "criminals". thinks shes sooooo fucking smart when in reality shes stupid as all fuck. i write her very much like myself. theres a lot to say about her speech patterns/way she is that influences her speech that idk how to put into words bc its just been absorbed into my brain like a sponge. sounds like shes analysing you every time she speaks. naturally intense-looking in a way that scared muu even in t1.

[team-council-two]

hi hello :D hope y’all are having a wonderful day-

thank you so much for making this blog because holy shit it’s gonna be so helpful <3

how do you say “Jesus Christ” in French ? context being it’s an exasperated exclamation

1. Many thanks - Aschen

Always happy to help! Now shower us with prompts and questions :) - Ray

Aw hey, thanks a ton - Cosmas

alpha here !! have a nice day too ! Personally, I'm glad you think this'll be useful. I just hope you and other people alike will be ready for how fuckin utterly disgustingly verbose I am, as expected of the person of this blog assuming authority on questions regarding spy (and perhaps what little scout could hope to have of french), and I am wishing you to manage to extract some glimpses of useful informations from my endless blabber still. (i also would like to apologise for my... sporadic use of ' and caps. i unfortunately have spent a good part of my life imitating dave strider's typing style, for i am the mandatory homestuck fan per project.)

onto the point !

well, what a simple yet interesting question, which yet easily unfolds into quite the lot of considerations to ponder !

so see, i am already forced to explain a little french thing known as our special relationship with religion, or as i fondly call it, our hellbentness on loudly frothing at the mouth whenever the church and catholicism is mentionned and our tendency to enjoy concepts such as the guillautine and the séparation de l'état et de l'église (chuch state separation for you English speaking friends)

This love for our république and révolution influenced us culturally a lot. In short; we do not refer to god for much or anything, including for the use religion based cusses, simply because we were hellbent on removing the catholic church from as much of our life as possible. It wasnt just royalty ! (we had a toast in the honor of the english queens death btw). But, because there always is a but, these cusses and the like still exist in french, and Spy is still someone who lives around americans a lot. so im assuming hed do the same as me, aka pick up a lot of language habits that youd usually not develop as much. this DOES include using religious based speech despite it all. A common consequence is, even if you don't say oh mon dieu/mon dieu a lot usually, well… Live long enough in America, and you will. But, because of course, there's always a but ! we do this because they have strikingly similar connotations ! Both can be used for surprise, fear and exhaustion alike. So. Let me actually answer this.

First, Jésus Christ is how you say it in french but it's pronounced completely different, like jeh-zus creest. Second, that said its not one i'd quite use interchangeably, at least for this case. You see, not only it sounds awkward as fuck in French and would be a real tongue twister to say in the middle of an English sentence (Ray's post on switching from Russian to English being hard also applies to French), it also would be that French uses this one a bit more restrictively : it's a thing you say more for surprising situations rather than quite exhaustion. We can but it's not our first choice. (also, on a side note, doux Jésus, lit. sweet jesus, is precisely for pleasant surprises too, as well as fear bound surprise. On a similar vein, the exclamation "Jesus !" will more often than not be better translated by "Christ !", but it really is. um. a nun/old time thing. It really is not common.)

Ironically mon dieu/bon dieu would likely be more fitting, bon sang (bloody hell ? Except that it's just. literally good blood.) but only if you follow it with a full mocking sentence like "bon sang, you are so fucking stupid it baffles me !…" or something like "bon sang, mais c'est quoi ce bordel ?" for full on, jesus christ what is this shit ? yknow. you even can use bon sang de bon soir. This whole thing reads as much more firm and almost angry compared to what you want, likely, tho. The absolute fucking peak of tired exhaustion, which is what I assume you're going for ? a standalone "mon Dieu mon Dieu mon Dieu mon Dieu…" Complete with head shaking and rubbing your temples. Bonus for being a classic movie reference (le grand restaurant, any Louis de Funès fan here ? he might pop up a lot in what i refer to). "Doux Jésus de doux Jésus de doux Jésus…" also works the same, minus the cool reference. A good ole "oh putain" for when you realize sth is going fucky is good too, the classic "merde/et merde" also is commonly adviseable.

There are many options because despite Ray's insistance that French cussing is weak compared to Russian one, we do have an entire art of cussing a lot, cussing in specific ways and cussing in stupid and artful ways. please do not hesitate to provide more context and/or the paragraph in which this pops up. but overall ? since your audience will be in its majority either american, or french people used enough to american english, i wouldnt worry too much about jésus christ not being understood or noticed as an "error" despite its use being a tiny tiny bit different. This is overall nitpick. but hey ! Guess that's what we are here for.

[disniq]

Heya, I was wondering if I could get a quick comic book rec. I've read RHaTO Vol. 1 up to issue... 27 I think it was? (Basically the first 4 volumes) ans RHaTO Vol. 2 up to issue 18 (end of Vol. 3)

Are volumes 6 & 7 of RHaTO vol.1, Red Hood & Arsenal, volume 4 of RHaTO vol.2, and Red Hood: Outlaw, worth a read?

Hi Anon! I apologise in advance because I was very verbose in answering this yes or no question lmao.

Disclaimer first, because RHATOs is always gonna be written by Scott Lobdell, so it's always gonna be at least vaguely misogynistic and full of heavy handed abuse apologia because Lobdell is a misogynistic abuser. That said, if you can stomach that, there's usually *some* merit to most of them.

(and, just to be clear, I am certainly not recommending you *pay* for any of them 🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️)

So, RHATO vol. 1.

Volume 5 is actually one of the better ones imo, it finishes up the story from volume 4, and then has a few self-contained stories focusing on Roy and Kori individually (so depending on your opinions of nu52 characterisation ymmv). Bonus points for this adorable panel;

Volume 6 and 7 are a really weird mishmash of main plot about Kori doing space-drugs (which is unsurprisingly lacking in any nuance, making it especially frustrating when the book also features a recovering addict and a guy who grew up surrounded by drug users), their nu52 origin stories (which are retconned again in Rebirth anyway), then there's the bizarre little Christmas issue (which I don't hate), and the weird flash forward issue (which I *do*) that is also retconned out with the Red Hood/Arsenal run so. These two are entirely skippable for me.

Red Hood/Arsenal

There are only two volumes of this, and if you managed rhato vol. 1 then this is fine. It's a lot lighter in tone, even if I'm not a big fan of the Joker's Daughter plot in volume 2. Personally, I think this run is worth it just for the jayroy dynamic - genuinely don't know what Lobdell was going for but he accidentally wrote a gay sitcom. I mean seriously, look at this break up scene;

RHATO Vol 2.

I canNOT believe I'm saying this, but you should probably read through this one. #25 (MY BELOATHED) is actually the conclusion to the Bruce and Jason trust arc of early rhato rebirth, and as much as I hate the direction they went with it, it does fit with the general state of Jason and Bruce's relationship in rebirth. It also seems to be the jumping off point they've used for more recent interactions (Cheer and TFZ).

Red Hood: Outlaw

Volume 1: Requiem for an Archer. So, this is the start of Lobdell's shameless projection onto Willis Todd, and naturally they skip right over any consequences of Bruce beating the shit out of his kid AGAIN, but I actually quite like this one. It's nice to see Jason work competently alone, and I think it does a good job of letting Jason's grief breathe, after the chaos of everything in the previous volume. Also, this is where he meets Dog and she's a good girl.

Volume 2: Prince of Gotham. I like this one too, actually. Jason gets to wear his fancy little suit and be clever and calculating, he gets to actually use his criminal links for once, and it's the biggest fuck you to Bruce since utrh imo. I hate the random ass non-plot point of Jason suddenly having a public civillian ID again, but that nonsense is worth it for this scene alone;

Volume 3: Generation Outlaw. This one... I like in theory lol. Jason gets to be a teacher, I think putting himself between Lex Luther and a bunch of impressionable young metas is something he would do, and one of the kids is a non-binary entity (it's a little ham-fisted, but I never say no to more enby characters!) HOWEVER. The writing takes a turn again here, and where Jason was clever in the last one he's now a bit of a bumbling idiot being outsmarted by a bunch of kids. The Artemis and Bizarro plotline is weird and a but pointless, but they are back by the end of this volume, and it contains the one jaytemis kiss that I like (because they both hate it lmao. wlw mlm solidarity).

Volume 4: Unspoken Truths. This is just out and out bad. The writing goes from bad to worse, Isabel is dragged back for absolutely no reason other than Lobdell wanting his blorbo JT to be surrounded by women he's slept with at all times, the art is terrible. There's a single Joker War crossover issue which is meaningless without context, and also drags Joker's Daughter back up AGAIN, and it ends with the Outlaws breaking up again because Jason isn't allowed to keep any friends ever.

ANYWAY. All of that was a complete non-answer because it really does depend on what you like and don't, but I hope my rambling at least helps a little!

[pokelolmc]

10 Danny Phantom Episodes with Good Concepts that Sorely Disappointed Me: “The Ultimate Enemy” (Part 2)

Alright, here I am, everyone—part two of my critical analysis on “The Ultimate Enemy”, and how its faulty writing let down a good episode idea. For those stumbling across this for the first time, I am in the process of composing an analytical list of ten Danny Phantom episodes whose concepts I liked, but didn’t like the execution of. “The Ultimate Enemy” is the first on this list. Due to the size of my complaints with the episode, I’ve split my arguments into multiple categories across multiple posts; I highly suggest you start from the beginning with part 1 here before moving onto this post. It covered the main introduction, and Category A of my problems with the episode: the plot points that were primarily irrelevant to Dan’s character.

For those of you continuing from the first part, I apologise for this part being overdue. I proposed I would edit and upload part two roughly a day after part one, but those days dragged on due to constant re-editing and problems with my mental health. Parts three and four shall probably take longer than a few days to edit and upload as well, as I discovered arguments in the essay that needed massive overhauls before posting. I can guarantee they’re coming eventually (the whole thing essay is fully written, point-wise); I need to rework and trim the fat off some paragraphs.

Without further ado, this post will take a look at everything I’ve chucked into Category B—my issues with Dan’s characterisation, and how what the episode showed us about who deserved responsibility for Dan contradicted what it told us about how Dan was created.

(Also, because of my saltiness seeping in when I was writing, my captions for the images got a little too snarky for an analytical essay, but I am too tired of re-editing this section to remove them. Hopefully, they’ll serve as humour; if not, I apologise.)

1. The episode incorrectly portrayed Danny as the only one responsible for Dan’s existence, and for the wrong reasons (the wrong events in the timeline). Upon scrutiny of the actual sequence of events that led to Dan’s creation, the direct responsibility for Dan’s birth was either an even split between Danny and Vlad, or slightly more Vlad’s fault (depending upon the interpretation of the event that did actually cause Dan).

(Spoiler alert: No. No, it was not.)

The episode initially chose to establish Danny cheating on the CAT as the cause for Dan’s existence. While this was partially, indirectly true (since it set up the chain of events that led to Dan’s creation), it was not the event that directly caused Dan—yet, the episode treated it as a highly important tipping point, close to the point of no return that led to Dan. Looking at Dan’s backstory from the information Future Vlad gave (as dubious as it was), and working backwards, it was clear that Danny cheating on the test was not the vital “point of no return” by any means. Neither was the explosion at the Nasty Burger, for that matter (which the episode treated as the point of no return after Dan cheated on the CAT in Danny’s place, which required the episode to postpone the narrative stakes of preventing Dan’s creation to the Nasty Burger fight).

(Well...not exactly--it didn’t ruin Dan’s future, but it did ruin Danny’s. There’s a distinction.)

Kick-starting the entire chain of events that set up the eventual moment of Dan’s birth was not synonymous with directly creating Dan, and blaming the causality for Dan’s existence on Danny cheating (the leap of logic that “Danny became evil in the future because he cheated on a test”) or even his loved ones dying at the Nasty Burger was incorrect.

To demonstrate the argument, I’ll shift to an in-universe hypothetical:

Imagine yourself in Clockwork’s shoes: an “evil future version of Danny” has been created, and you have to prevent Dan’s existence by searching through the events that led his creation to find as many openings between key events as possible, in order to change one and subsequently avert all the events (including Dan’s creation) that followed.

To lay it out in full, the chain (separating the events based on intervention windows) was as follows: (1) Danny cheated on the CAT -> (2) Mr. Lancer met with Danny’s parents at the Nasty Burger to discuss it -> (3) they (including Sam, Tucker and Jazz) died in the Nasty Burger explosion -> (4) a grief-stricken Danny went to Vlad in Wisconsin -> (5) Danny requested that Vlad numb his emotional pain -> (6) Vlad split Danny’s ghost half from his human half—only for the ghost half to immediately pull out Vlad’s own and fuse with it into Dan.

Dan’s existence being the result of (what was essentially) a disastrous line of falling dominoes made his origin more sinister, but also highly easy to prevent (at least, without taking into account the mess caused by the story’s poorly thought out use of time travel, which I’ll explain later in section C). After all, the more complex a system (the more elements necessary for a system to successfully operate and achieve a desired result), the more weak spots it has—as meddling with one part can affect all the other parts and lead the entire operation to fail.

Utilising any of the intervention room between the events in “The Ultimate Enemy’s” alternate timeline would prevent Dan’s entire existence. The only event, therefore, that could be labelled the direct cause of Dan’s existence was the event that immediately resulted in Dan’s birth, and the most dire pivotal point—which rendered Dan inevitable—was the event directly before that. The event of Dan’s creation itself (or the cause of Dan) was event number six—the removal of both Danny and Vlad’s ghost halves using the Ghost Gauntlets, and their subsequent fusion with each other. The event which led to this—event number five, which was Danny’s request for Vlad to remove his emotional pain—was the direct catalyst for the procedure, and therefore the important “point of no return” leading to Dan that the episode tried to make Danny cheating on the CAT (and once that was over, the act of losing his loved ones) out to be. (Technically speaking, it was one of possibly two options for the event upon which Dan’s existence truly hinged—number four was also a likely candidate).

Danny cheating on the CAT was not the cause of Dan (even if it set the eventual stage), because there were numerous ways to interfere after the incident of Danny cheating the CATs and still prevent Dan from existing. Clockwork could’ve interfered between events one and two, by changing Mr. Lancer’s parent-teacher meeting location to anywhere safer than the Nasty Burger, so no one died (he could’ve utilised Jazz to sway Mr. Lancer, perhaps—it’s safe to assume Clockwork was aware of her knowledge on Danny’s secret, and she was the one Mr. Lancer approached about Danny cheating). He could’ve interfered between events three and four—had Danny’s loved ones still die at the Nasty Burger but convinced Danny himself not to go to Vlad. He could’ve popped in between events four and five and convinced Danny, right after moving in with Vlad, to not ask for a way to numb his emotional pain. However, Vlad proved to be a dubious source in the flashback of Dan’s origin story, and was typically too much of a wild card, so preventing Danny from moving in with Vlad at all is likely the safest option.

Ergo, either event four or five should’ve been treated as the important point that led to Dan’s existence. On top of that, Vlad’s role in event six proved he was partially responsible for Dan’s creation, but the rest of the episode outside of the flashback neglected this fact in favour of pushing the “Dan was all Danny’s fault” message.

(Begin Vlad’s unreliable narratorhood in 3...2...1...)

However, Future Vlad behaved like an unreliable narrator of the “Dan’s creation” flashback, so his explanation of events shouldn’t be taken at face value. Assuming the basic outline of events was trustworthy, however, the episode indicated to us that Vlad was roughly equally as responsible for Dan’s creation as Danny. He conceded to Danny’s desire to escape his emotions and responded with the halfa-splitting operation that caused Dan’s fusion.

He stretched the reality of the event to Present Danny when he exaggerated the delivery of some (if not most) of his narration lines in the flashback. It was most blatantly clear in the line where he inflated his importance to Danny after the tragedy, “With nowhere else to go, you came to me—the only person left on the planet who could possibly hope to understand your situation.” He verbally emphasised the words ‘me’ and ‘possibly’, and the phrases “the only person left on the planet” and “could possibly understand” were hyperbole in their own right. Another was the line, “No more painful human emotions to drag you down,” where he spoke the italicised words with overt disdain for Danny’s emotions. It could be interpreted simply as Vlad’s typical habit of speaking in a dramatised manner, rather than trying to make himself look good to Danny by stretching the truth. However, even if choosing to interpret Vlad’s delivery as the latter, he still skewed his recount through vagueness and omission in the literal content of his narration (when linked to the visuals that ran alongside his lines).

According to Future Vlad, Danny asked for his emotional pain to be taken away; and Vlad removed his ghost half to “[honour] [his] wishes,” while the shot changed from Vlad’s sympathetic face at the grieving Danny to the procedure with the Ghost Gauntlets. Future Vlad never explicitly stated whether it was Danny or him that decided removing Danny’s ghost half was the course of action to take, Vlad only explained that Danny “wanted to make the hurt go away”, and then the shot cut to Vlad removing Danny’s ghost half with the only explanation that he was acting in accordance with that wish.

On top of not explicitly saying whose idea it was, (though, with Vlad’s knowledge and experience with halfa research far exceeding Danny’s, it was almost certainly his) the episode did not explain how his logic leapt from “remove Danny’s emotional pain” to “remove Danny’s ghost half”, which was an insensible method to solve Danny’s problems.

The “no more human emotions” line indicated that his intention behind the procedure was to remove Danny’s human emotions, yet he knew that the procedure entailed removing Danny’s ghost half.

It made no sense, in universe, for Vlad to competently assume that removing Danny’s ghost half from him would work to remove an emotionality rooted in his human half (the episode overall, by the way Dan referred to human emotions and sentimentalities as a “humanity” he gave up, implied that it intended to frame the emotional attachment to Danny’s loved ones as part of his human half). If it could be chalked up to an external fault, like the lack of clear research into the procedure’s outcome, and not Vlad’s failure to realise the logical inconsistency, the episode needed to give evidence of this. Without that information, the only feasible assumptions were either that he wasn’t making any sense in-universe, he was supposed to be sensible but the episode’s writing didn’t make sense, or he had an ulterior motive for convincing Danny into going through with the operation. Either way, it was yet another part of Dan’s creation that Vlad was responsible for, not Danny, and the episode’s message was illogical to contradict this.

Through potentially exaggerating his sympathy for the alternate Danny in his verbal intonation, and blatantly failing to mention the details of why he chose removing Danny’s ghost half to fix a “human” problem, Vlad told his version of Dan’s birth in a way that would minimise his moral fault in the incident to Present Danny. His only logically feasible motivation for this was to hide further moral accountability for Dan’s creation than what we already saw in the face-value version of the flashback.

To summarise this entire sub-category of arguments, the episode was wrong to pin Dan’s existence on Danny cheating on the CAT (and even on losing his family, as the second half of the episode changed gears to), rather than his desire to remove/escape his emotions (even if the deaths resulted in the pain that he wanted to remove in the first place, which I shall explain later in Section D). It was also mistaken to portray Danny as the primary cause of Dan, rather than acknowledge that Vlad was equally (if not more), responsible than him.

Additionally, the fact that Vlad, as an in-universe character, tried to minimise his moral role/accountability in the physical causality of Dan’s creation by skirting around the truth in his retelling was something that the episode itself should’ve acknowledged or called out, through more reliable information from a third-person or other characters’ perspectives such as Danny, Dan’s or Clockwork’s—but it didn’t.

2.  On top of physical responsibility for Dan, the episode was wrong to pin Danny with the moral blame and identity of Dan. It treated the two of them as essentially the same person, and portrayed Dan as just a Danny from the future who turned evil because of a combination of Danny’s potential evilness (potential to do “selfish/evil” things) and tragic circumstances. Considering Dan’s backstory, it made no sense for Danny to be the sole owner of either Dan’s immorality or identity/personhood.

Dan’s backstory told us that physically Danny wasn’t solely responsible for his creation, but the rest of the narrative still deeply connected Dan to Danny alone by treating Dan as what would happen if Danny let his pre-existing moral flaws take over him—that Dan’s villainy (or evil nature) came from Danny.

Clockwork referred to Danny Phantom as “grow[ing] up into the most evil ghost on the planet” in the cold open (which, given that Dan was a product of a fusion, was blatantly false.)

“The Ultimate Enemy” attempted to build up the idea that Danny had the potential for evil, and that Dan was him realising his own evil, in the scene where the trio entered Clockwork’s lair. As they watched Dan’s carnage through the observation window, Danny excitedly admired Dan’s Ghostly Wail, completely oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, and Sam called him out for not reading the room.

(Though, Sam’s condemnation of Dan’s villainy was extremely underwhelming—calling a world-destroyer and (presumable) mass murderer just “kind of a jerk” in a snarky tone did not do the severity of Dan’s actions any justice.)

When they confronted Clockwork, Danny scoffed at him to find just “one” evil thing he’d done. The shot then immediately focussed onto “examples” of Danny’s “evil” in the time window—first, Jazz finding out Danny was going to cheat the CATs (which, as established in point one, was not as morally significant as the episode tried to portray it—that shall be further elaborated later in Section D). After Tucker sassed at Clockwork, “[I] bet you can’t find two!”, the time window changed to Dan standing atop his destruction in the alternate future, and Clockwork replied, “How about two thousand?”—implying that Clockwork was referring to what Dan did in the future as at least part of the (supposedly numerous) evil things Danny did (or would do). This made no sense unless the episode was implying that Dan’s immorality was Danny’s own. However, this implication was incorrect, leaving Clockwork to state that he had seen countless instances of Danny Fenton/Phantom being evil with no valid examples to show for it whatsoever.

Dan’s atrocities had no weight as examples of Danny’s morality flaws due to the fact that Dan’s evil was not primarily Danny’s to begin with, creating a feedback loop of invalidation; evidence for the argument was invalid because its own validity was dependent on the validity of the very argument it was supposed to be supporting.

(Danny, despite the episode’s reluctance to be fair to him with its accusations of his “potential villainy”, was actually justified in asking this of Clockwork. You know there’s something wrong with your story when your self-centred, short-sighted teenage protagonist is righter than your supposedly all-knowing Master of Time in this situation.)

(Cheating on a test is not evil, Clockwork, try again.)

(Nope, sorry, Dan’s evil is not Danny’s “evil”; your argument is invalid.)

(I typically put the “improvements/fixes” part at the end of each point, but for the sake of its direct relevance to the aforementioned example, I’ll put it here to avoid structural confusion in the essay:

“The Ultimate Enemy”, for some reason decided that its reason/foreshadowing of Danny’s potential for evil had to be self-contained; ironically, almost all (sans a small few) of the episode’s examples of Danny’s moral flaws weren’t “evil” at all, and they would’ve been far better off using actual events of Danny showing potentially villainous traits from previous episodes. Danny may have been justified in asking Clockwork to name one evil thing he’d done, because that accusation had no basis at that point, but Clockwork’s response should’ve been to show previous instances in the series where Danny took advantage of others with his powers.

For example, imagine if in the episode, when Danny demanded, “Name one evil thing I’ve done!”, Clockwork’s time window had switched to moments like the end of “Maternal Instincts”, where he manipulated Vlad into lowering his guard, or his acts of overshadowing Dash for petty revenge in “Splitting Images” or “Reign Storm”? Not only were they more legitimate examples of morally corrupt characteristics—tricking people for his own gain/victory and abusing his powers to the detriment of others—it would’ve given such a significant episode in the series more continuity with the previous ones. In fact, the examples in two of those previous episodes resulted in Vlad pointing out that Danny was becoming more like him, as a way to use Vlad’s relationship as Danny’s nemesis/character foil for the sake of tension. “The Ultimate Enemy” could’ve used those examples in its own narrative to turn Dan into a proper payoff of this long-term build-up of Vlad’s whole “We’re not so different, you and I” thing going on with Danny.

Also, it would add to the thematic irony of Dan being a fusion of Danny and Vlad’s ghost halves, if that aspect of his backstory was not altered in a rewrite of TUE.)

Vlad owned Dan’s evil nature equally as much as (if not more than) Danny because Dan was also half-Vlad. However, the episode neglected to acknowledge this outside of a few seconds on Dan’s birth in the flashback. While explaining the scene of the two ghost halves fusing into Dan, Future Vlad’s most honest lines of narration (because they straightforwardly confessed he was morally accountable for Dan to Danny, and thus had no motivation to be a lie) explained that, “My [ghost half’s] evil side overwhelmed you”. This implied that the reason Dan turned out evil in the first place was that Vlad’s evil took over Danny’s mind during the fusion.

Given that we trust Vlad’s line, Vlad (or Plasmius, as Vlad’s ghost half) deserved most of the accountability for Dan’s lust for destruction and lack of a moral compass, not Danny. So, calling Dan “Danny’s evil future self” was only accurate in the literal sense of “this is what remained of Danny’s mind/existence in the future—his ghost half—even though it’s only a part of a larger fusion with another ghost, and this fusion is evil”. Dan was not a warning that “Danny was going to turn evil”, because Danny was not the primary source of Dan’s villainy.

In regards to overall personal identity, rather than just morality, Dan was also not “Danny’s evil future self” on account of the fact that he was not “Danny’s future self”, period. He shouldn’t have been an “older Danny” (or essentially the same person as Danny but older and evil), according to his backstory’s statement that he was half-Phantom, half-Plasmius. Yet, for some asinine reason, Dan only identified himself personally as “Danny” for the duration of the episode (without mention of Vlad).

After travelling to the past under Danny’s guise, Dan referred to Danny’s bedroom and face in the mirror as his own.

(Whoops--another image where I goofed the subtitles, this time in formatting...and MS Paint’s lack of layers makes redoing it an unnecessary pain. Sorry about that.)

When he met Sam and Tucker in the future, he explained his cold response to seeing them again as a result of “[surrendering his] human half a long time ago”. His singular human half. Not plural…because even Dan himself wanted to pretend that he wasn’t half Vlad, for some reason.

Perhaps it could be chalked up to people behaving differently in different social contexts; in that case, it was understandable that—even if he was part-Vlad—his Danny-side and memories influenced him the most in front of Danny’s friends…but that alone didn’t justify him stating that he only had one human half as a fact. The only other option that made in-universe sense was that it was a deceit/falsehood on Dan’s part, and therefore knowingly untrue. Perhaps Dan didn’t want to admit that he had more than one human half to Sam and Tucker—because he was not obliged to divulge that information to them—or that he preferred to mentally distance himself from Vlad’s human half because the latter was still alive, and separate from Dan. However, it was still untrue to link Dan and Danny together as people, but not Vlad, with the idea of only owning Danny’s human half.

The assumption that Dan was a future, evil Danny in person (and not also part-Vlad in person, or a new person from either of them entirely) implied that the fusion resulted in Plasmius’s mind giving his evil to Danny’s and then disappearing into the aether. It implied that a fusion of two people resulted in a powered-up being that was solely one of them psychologically, in order to purport that Danny (or, at least Phantom as his ghost half) was still Danny in sense of self for the last ten years in the alternate future. This contradicted the more logically valid implication that Plasmius’s mind or identity still existed as a component inside Dan, and Dan was at least both Danny and Vlad mentally.

Vlad explained in the flashback, “[Vlad’s] evil ghost half mixed with [Danny’s].” The general interpretation of “mixing” implied that the two ghost halves merged together into a new being and their traits and minds blended together. His identity should, theoretically, be either a half-and-half joining of the two halfas, or a whole new person with Vlad and Danny’s ghost halves as mere fusion ingredients. Ten years of existence and experience after the initial fusion would also, theoretically, give Dan enough time to develop this new mixed mind into his own individual sense of self beyond who/what either of Danny or Vlad were as people (prior to the ghost half fusion). In that case, Dan was not Danny’s “future self” in identity, and had little reason to identify Danny’s face, room and family as “his old [life]” (or, at least his only one). 

The next most obvious theory (about Dan’s psychological makeup as a fusion) is that one half was more dominant than the other during the fusion, leading to Dan to become primarily just one of them in identity. That dominant one had to have been Danny, based on how Dan identified himself in the episode, but that wouldn’t make sense. Phantom taking full control of the fusion and assimilating Plasmius into himself required that a grief-stricken fourteen year old was somehow capable of winning against a more experienced forty-something in a battle of minds, thoroughly enough to the point of absorbing the latter. Considering that Phantom was mentally weak enough to be the one “overwhelmed” by Plasmius’s evil (a single facet of Plasmius’s larger mind) almost immediately, that hypothesis seems unlikely. The notion of Phantom overwhelming Plasmius in the fusion to gain dominance, and Plasmius being the one to overwhelm him to turn him evil, contradict each other. Ergo, Dan being a mix of both Phantom and Plasmius was the most likely (and sensible) outcome of the fusion.

In that case, the episode was thoughtless and inaccurate to treat Dan as “Danny’s future self who became a villain”. Dan was not inherently linked to Danny in either the majority of his morality or his identity, due to the part Vlad played in Dan’s creation, and his mental component in Dan’s fusion.

2.5.A notable counterpoint, for the sake of not one-sidedly flipping all of the fault for Dan onto Vlad:

To be fair—as the idea of solely blaming Vlad would also be inaccurate to what Dan’s origin story showed—I should acknowledge a piece of evidence explicitly indicating that Danny still contributed some of his own darkness to Dan’s villainy, albeit less than Vlad. Once separated from his human half, Phantom ripped out and fused with Vlad’s ghost half of his own volition, all with a malicious grin on his face.

However, there was no clear motivation or reason for the separated Phantom to fuse with Plasmius (the physical cause of Dan that Danny/Phantom could be blamed for) —in fact, it made no sense for there to be any premeditated intention for Phantom to fuse with him, since he couldn’t have known that fusion with another halfa’s isolated ghost half was even possible at that point; it was an untried, never-seen-before method, hardly likely to mentally occur to Danny in the first place. Phantom resorted to attacking Vlad, stealing the Ghost Gauntlets and pulling out Plasmius for some unknown reason, but ghost-half fusion could not have sensibly been it. The Gauntlet attack simply demonstrated that Phantom took ill-willed pleasure from the act of hurting or depowering Vlad. After removing Vlad’s ghost half, fusing with it was the second step. Danny could be held responsible for his ghost half explicitly harbouring malice/potential evil in the attack (and his ghost half’s response to being removed was part of Danny’s responsibility in Dan’s creation), but that wouldn’t explain the crucial next step of the fusion itself.

This is where my ideas for potential improvements for the story of “The Ultimate Enemy” come in, as the exact extent of Danny’s contribution to Dan (in physical responsibility and mentality) wasn’t entirely clear—outside of this explicit evidence of Phantom’s facial expression. This uncertainty leaves the room for a do-over of the narrative to ask a lot of questions about how physically and morally accountable for Dan’s birth and evilness Danny actually was.

We could assume implicit evidence that Danny had some sort of inner darkness which contributed to Dan, even if only the minority, from the possibility that his grief at the loss of his loved ones (as well at helplessness at not being able to do anything to save them, and low evaluation of his own worth as a person) led to buried malice, anger and a desire for power to compensate.

Based on how splitting halfas apart worked in “Identity Crisis”, it made sense that Phantom had a sense of hostility and motivation to hurt Vlad once separated from Danny in “The Ultimate Enemy”. When Danny was split in half the first time, the halves took on the mental characteristics of the whole Danny’s momentary intents and desires. When Danny wanted his ghost half to do all the hero work so his human half could have the time to have fun, his ghost half took on an exaggerated hero personality and his human half an irresponsible teenager personality. Assuming this logic consistently determines the split halves’ personalities each time, and the fact that Danny’s desires in the alternate future revolved around escaping his emotional pain, it was logical that one of the split halves inherited a condensed majority of Danny’s pain (in this case, the ghost half), while the other half (the human one) was innocently blind to most of Danny’s grief and self-hatred—and that the suffering half acted out aggressively or malevolently as a result.

However, since we could logically assume that fusing with Plasmius was not the initial reason Phantom removed him from Vlad (and we assume the fusion was a spur-of-the-moment decision that occurred to him afterwards), why did he remove Plasmius in the first place? Was he intending to spite Vlad after all the grief he caused Danny in their rivalry? Was it a sense of inferiority telling him to tear Vlad down from his superior position? Was it to avoid letting Vlad stay a possible physical threat to Danny? There is such a large gap here, one could brainstorm countless possible motivations.

Furthermore, if that only covered his motivation to remove Plasmius, then what made him decide to fuse with him? Was he attempting to possess Plasmius as one ghost half trying to possess another for some reason? Was it internal panic? Was it a hunger for power pushing him to seize the opportunity that opened up? Why didn’t/couldn’t Plasmius fight Phantom off in the fusion scene?

These questions could be explored if the story of “The Ultimate Enemy” was redone. Present Danny, the Danny whose point of view we saw the episode from (rather than the Alternate Danny) hadn’t experienced the Dan future himself, so he didn’t know what was going through his alternate self’s head (human or ghost) during Dan’s creation. How much of it was his fault? How much of it wasn’t? How did he fill in the holes in the story Future Vlad told to him based on his own insecurities, and what did he blame himself for?

For that matter, why not get present Vlad wrapped up in it too? Have him take responsibility for what is HIS. If not, the episode should’ve at least acknowledged that Dan was not entirely “Danny’s evil”, and made it clear that he was cleaning up both his and Vlad’s collective mess by himself. If the message of the evil future self being Danny corrupted to the side of evil was so necessary for the episode, then simply remove the fusion plot entirely from Dan’s origin and have Danny become a villain by his own moral corruption. It weakened the impact of the future-self villain being a warning of “what the hero should avoid becoming” by having the main character only become evil by fusing with an already malevolent character.

3.      The Observants’ conclusion that they had to kill Danny to save the world from Dan didn’t make sense, due to Vlad being primarily responsible for Dan’s evilness—but the episode, instead of acknowledging this inanity, actually reinforced the opposite.

Having now established that Vlad was half (if not more) at fault for Dan’s evil than Danny, the plot to kill Danny in the episode lost any of the ground it had to stand on.

(Nope...no, he didn’t have to.)

It was illogical for the Observants to assume killing Danny was the best way to stop Dan from existing when killing Vlad would equally achieve this (not to mention that either of these options were overkill, in the presence of the intervention methods mentioned in Section A). Without Vlad, Dan could not exist either. Eliminating Vlad would stop his continuous crimes against both worlds, and let Danny live to continue doing the good he’d done. After the events of “Reign Storm”, a large part of the Ghost Zone knew that Danny had saving Amity Park, and the entire Ghost Zone, under his belt—if an entire wasteland civilisation like the Far Frozen came to worship Danny for his victory against Pariah Dark (as shown in season three’s “Infinite Realms”).

(For that matter, where were the Observants hounding Clockwork to get on Vlad’s troublesome ass when he tried to steal the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage in “Reign Storm”, if Pariah Dark was so dangerous?)

If they were being somewhat rational, it was possible that they chose Danny as Vlad’s less powerful counterpart, and an easier target—even though they delegated the task off to Clockwork because intervention wasn’t their job, and they clearly acknowledged Clockwork’s power and competence to some degree. The Observants openly referred to Clockwork as the master of time while shirking their responsibility for fixing the future onto him, so whether or not killing Vlad would be too difficult for themselves would be irrelevant, since they made it Clockwork’s problem and became backseat commentators. Though, Clockwork would’ve probably foreseen Vlad’s importance in Danny’s emotional growth as his nemesis and also kept him alive anyway—but from a purely logical standpoint, it made little sense to execute Danny over Vlad, if they ever needed to kill anyone at all.

To be honest, the episode could’ve used the invalidity of the Observants’ plan to paint their incompetence more, expanding on Clockwork’s disdain for them and how he told the audience they “just observe”. However, to do that, the episode itself would’ve had to actually portray the Observants’ plan (not just the Observants themselves, but their actual plan to kill Danny itself) as nonsensical. The episode never did, however, as it had Clockwork—the character portrayed as bolder and wiser than the Observants—reinforce their proposition as worth trying and go along with their request for Danny’s demise. He sent two ghosts to attack Danny (although the fight with Boxed Lunch was more of a moral test about giving Danny the CAT answers, rather than an attempt on his life, Danny “failed” that moral test before Clockwork sent Skulktech after him—so, the latter at least counted as a potential hit on Danny) to the extent of attempting to kill Danny himself on the last attempt. That Clockwork went along with the Observants’ plan showed that the episode saw the plan as reasonable, despite its illogicality.

(While there is a possible argument for Clockwork’s knowledge of how the episode would end—insinuating that he knew Danny would never actually end up dying—justifying why he went along with the plan in the first place, the next section of the essay shall tackle that. Since Clockwork is the Master of Time, and the issues with his character were heavily intertwined with the effects the time travel lore had on the plot, that shall be addressed in Category C, the section covering the mess created by the time-travel in the episode.)

...actually, that just gave me an idea. You know what would be interesting, if a little too much to content to stuff into the narrative? Having an Observant character distinguished as their own individual, who doubts the other Observants’ unreasonable decisions and becomes a rogue element to the rest of the council, directly intervening in the timeline themselves. The rogue Observant could abandon the council of Observants to side with Clockwork, and characterise Clockwork by having him change his globalised impression of the Observants to understand this new, non-conformist one as an ally. Or, perhaps the Observant plays a more compassionate foil to Clockwork, choosing to himself save Danny’s life from the ghost attacks Clockwork sent after him?)

[mx-princey]

[IMAGE ONE ID: A pride flag made up of 7 horizontal lines. In descending order, the colour of the lines are orange, brown, light grey, dark grey, light grey, dark purple, light purple.] [IMAGE TWO ID: The same pride flag, but with annotated text bubbles pointing to and explaining the colour choice of each line, The explanations can be found under the read-more of this post.] NOW PRESENTING: A NEW GENDER, WHICH I MADE, WHICH I WILL NOW BE GRACING YOU ALL WITH; ASTROLLIGENDER You’re under no obligation to use or identify with it, even if the description matches you / your identity. But if you do identify with this - great! Welcome to the club. The flag is free to use, but if you create anything with it I’d love to be tagged or have it sent to me, just so I can see what’s being done with it! (Also, even though I made this for gender specifically, I guess you’d be allowed to use it as some sort of generic “(homestuck) troll pride flag” as well? I’m not going to stop you and it still works for that too!) ASTROLLIGENDER* A gender for those whose gender identity is influenced by the troll concept of gender / sex, or who identify with troll biology in some way. May or may not experience dysphoria. May or may not be due to kin reasons. Orange: Troll Biology (and its differences to human biology) This colour is taken from troll horns, as the horns are the most immediately obvious difference between troll and human anatomy. Brown: Trolls with furry-esque physiology This colour is similar to Tavros’ bronze colour, as he could commune with and is associated with animals. Light Grey: Trolls with humanoid physiology This colour is taken from Karkat’s symbol, which was representative of his red blood. Dark Grey: The canon trolls and the window they provided into the troll lifestyle This colour is used as dark, often dark grey tones are usually associated with the trolls. Dark Purple: Trolls with bug-esque physiology This colour is similar to Sollux’s bees. Light Purple: Troll culture and society (and its differences to human culture). This colour is similar to the purple of SGRUB’s logo, as well as purple being a prominent colour on Alternia. *not called “trollgender” due to the negative connotations of the term “troll.” as the trolls of homestuck have a connection with astrology, the two words have been combined - ie, “astrolligender.”

[leggerefiore]

hi ! i like the way you write the submas twins !! the way emmet texts in your recent work was super cute ehe ^^

could i request the twins (separate) with an s/o who picks up their vocal quirks, or sometimes repeats them ? ex. s/o picks up emmets habit of saying "verrrrry"

cursed because i've almost started doing that (i am using very more and i hate it)

▲Ingo▼

● You're less likely to pick up his speaking quirks, but rather start being as loud as him. He's good at listening, but all the noise from the Battle Subway and station in general have made him slightly deaf. He also lacks volume control unless he's actively considering his tone. As such, when you speak in a mumble or whisper, he goes “huh?” at least once.

● Eventually it gets to the point where you're as loud as him. It's a public nuisance and people know when you and the Subway Boss are out together. “This a beautiful garden, isn't it, dear?” Ingo says, like he didn't just scare off a flock of Pidoves. “It really is! I love the tulips' colour variety.” You'll respond at his volume level, and another nearby couple is glaring at you both. Neither of you realize it.

● Though, his train-isms have definitely crept into your vernacular. Phrases like, 'That's the ticket', 'That train has left the station', 'Wrong station' and 'Staying on the tracks'. You hate it, but he stares at you so lovingly when they spill out.

● He's quite verbose, so you'll find your vocabulary growing when you speak with him and your overall conversation abilities increase. If you were struggling with that, he's accidentally helping you. Ingo will comment on it and say he's proud of you after realizing it. Your growth as a person is important to him.

● He'll pick up on your mannerisms, too. If you're extremely vulgar, the older twin might find more curses slipping out of him than usual. Ingo is always flustered when he does and profusely apologises whenever it happens.

● If you have your own -isms you use, say for example ship-isms, he will have you unintentionally join in on his train-isms. After scaring some delinquents who were about to graffiti a station wall, they all split up but left the weakest looking member behind. “Like rats abandoning a sink ship…” he comments mostly to himself. The meek delinquent tilts his head and scratches as hand through his shaved hair, “Uhhhh, aren't you that train guy?”

▽Emmet△

○ As soon as an elongated 'very' leaves your mouth, you curse him. Emmet's speaking habit has crept into your language. How long until you start introducing yourself with just 'I am' before your name. Emmet doesn't just hold out the sound in very, he does with other words when he wants to imply emphasis (and distinguish himself from Ingo).

○ Also spreads train-isms to you. You ended up in a shifty part of Nimbasa and the first thing you mumbled to your friend was, “I think we're on the wrong side of the tracks.” Suddenly, your tension was broke, you stomped your foot in frustration. How long did you have before you found yourself announcing 'All Aboard!' when gathering people or pokemon?

○ Contrary to Ingo, he shortens your sentences. If you're a verbose person who speaks in long sentences, you find your sentences curt and to the point. Emmet doesn't even notice and just assumes it's because you're more comfortable with him. He is truly a curse upon your vernacular.

○ Also picks up on your own mannerism, but a bit more noticeably. If you're vulgar, people are uncomfortable with the sudden crudeness that's morphed its way into the younger twin's words. He apologises and genuinely has no idea why it keeps happened. (If he realizes it's you, he'll probably talk to you about it. That, or, work on it himself because Ingo is glaring at him.)

○ It's funnier when Emmet uses your -isms. Let's say you use air related -isms, for example. The Subway Boss goes to meet with Elesa for a musical, and she's brought Skyla along with her. The three are having a wonderful night together when a punk attempts to steal a younger girl's pokemon. Emmet rushes over with Galvantula already out. The guy notices the angry twin, drops the ball and runs away. “Wooooow! That guy took flight,” he comments while rubbing the crying child's back. Skyla snickers at his words, “I'm the pilot here, thank you.”

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (1): Suspension (Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro, 5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: One of your favourite students has been suspended for fighting, and Gojo has palmed off the meeting with his guardian to go through all of the paperwork and facts and conditions on you. “Don’t worry,” Gojo says. “It’ll be Megumi’s sister, she always takes care of this kind of stuff!”. Gojo is wrong.

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. dom/sub dynamics, light fearplay and predator/prey elements. piv sex.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

1.

“I’ve got all these other parents to deal with,” Gojo whines at you, pushing the papers into your hands. “And I hate paperwork, and I don’t have time to meet with Megumi’s family today – hell, if it were up to me, the kid wouldn’t even be suspended! Those guys had it coming!”

Gojo is not a very good teacher. Both of you know that – no matter how justified – violence never solves violence. Gojo, you think, would let these kids fight it out in an arena instead of solving things like an adult. You heave a large sigh as you look down at the papers detailing Megumi Fushiguro’s three-day suspension for fighting during school hours.

You’d seen Megumi before he’d gone home. He hadn’t had so much as a scratch on him; his face set in a frown, his arms crossed, his eyes downcast. You’d sighed at him and asked him if he was alright, and he’d shrugged.

He’s not a very talkative boy at the best of times, and you suppose that the suspension and the fight and the mini uproar it had caused in the school aren’t helping be any more verbose. You’d said goodbye to him and said that you hoped he thought about what had transpired today, your heart aching a little bit that you couldn’t be any more help to him.

You’d seen the three boys Megumi had got into a fight with, too. They had not gotten off so scot-free – they were bleeding noses, scraped cheeks, bruised eyes. At the very least, you don’t think any of them will get on Megumi’s wrong side again.

Gojo has to meet with all three of their parents tonight to give them the full story of why their children are so roughed up and what’s being done about it; a position that’s been doled out to him, you’re sure, because Principal Masamichi blames him for the incident and is punishing him. You can’t deny that seeing Gojo actually get punished for something is nice, but--

“Won’t they be mad to see me instead of you?” You ask him, biting your lip. “I mean . . . you’re his teacher. I’m just your aid.”

“Oh,” Gojo’s eyebrows rise behind his glasses. “No, it’ll be Megumi’s sister who’ll come, she’s a sweetheart! She’ll nod at you and say mournfully that she’ll talk to him and you’ll give her the paperwork, and that’s all – job done! Honestly, if I could palm this off on you and talk to Tsumiki instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat--”

“This is your job,” you tell him, exasperated, and he laughs wide and open. You’re not really supposed to get like this with him – if he were any other teacher, you’re sure that the exasperation and sighing and half-snapping you do would have had you thrown out of their class – but Gojo treats your irritation with him as if it’s the funniest thing that has ever happened. “You’re supposed to be good at dealing with this kind of thing!”

He shrugs.

“You’ll be fine!” He tells you, again. “Honestly, this isn’t the first time this has happened with Megumi and it won’t be the last. That kid’s got a right hook that could knock out an elephant!”

You do not ask him how he knows this. Asking too many questions of Gojo is always flirting with danger; you never know when his mouth will flash into a grin and you’ll suddenly be barraged with a flood of words and stories that don’t quite make sense and never seem to have a concrete end. But you can’t resist one last question – just in case it comes up. After all, it seems that Gojo has spoken to Tsumiki enough times for him to at least kind of know her--

“His sister?”

Gojo looks at you, and for a moment the shroud of capricious energy lifts from him, and he seems entirely serious. You’ve noticed this particular change in him only a few times – and often, those times have been about the more difficult backstories of students.

“His father isn’t around very often,” he says, eventually. “He’s some kind of something or other, Megumi never really says, but whatever he does, there’s a lot of travelling involved. Tsumiki’s his older sister – she’s twenty one, and she’s been more of a parent to him than it seems like his dad has.”

No wonder Megumi always seems suspicious and tired of Gojo. Something about his flighty nature probably strokes the back of Megumi’s psyche, where annoyances about an absent father are kept. You sigh, turning away and shaking your head to rid yourself of the idea of psychoanalysing the students.

“Alright,” you say wearily. “I’ll talk to Tsumiki.”

2.

You’re nervous as you set up for the meeting. You know Gojo had said that this would be easy, that Tsumiki was very sweet and would probably apologise to you for Megumi being a problem – but still! This is the first time you’ve ever met any of your students’ guardian figures in any capacity. You feel kind of bad that it had to be for this kind of news, actually – ordinarily, you like Megumi a lot. He’s very intense and serious and clever, and you think that he has a bright future ahead of him when the trials of being a twelve year old boy finally are over – but this meeting isn’t for saying things like that. This meeting is for giving details of the three day suspension that Megumi has gotten for – you check the paperwork again – fighting three boys by himself on one of the sports courts, making them bleed and . . . breaking one of their arms? No wonder Gojo had seemed so miserable at the thought of meeting with the victims’ parents.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, making sure that it still sits as neatly as you’d arranged it that morning. You check the clock to see you still have two minutes before anyone is due – you discreetly check your lipstick in a compact mirror (yesterday you’d had it on your teeth and you hadn’t realised until Mai had pointed it out with a laugh in her voice), smooth out your pencil skirt, tug at your stockings to make sure they’re pulled up and not wrinkling about your ankles . . .

And then, you wait.

The clock is straight across from you, so you’re able to see as Tsumiki is five minutes late, and then ten minutes late, and then fifteen. The tick-tock echoes in the room as your leg bounces against the floor, anxiety making you want to gnaw all of the carefully applied lipstick off of your mouth. From what Gojo had said, this doesn’t sound like Tsumiki at all – you’re just about to give up and pack all of your things away, figuring maybe she’d called into the office to say she couldn’t make it and telling you had been neglected, when the door slams open.

You rush to your feet, your sensible heels clacking on the ground.

“Miss Fushi--”

Your voice peters away.

The person stood in the doorway is, you’re certain, absolutely not Tsumiki Fushiguro.

For one thing, it’s a man. For another thing . . . well. You’re not entirely sure that a man with that expression on his face would ever be described to anyone as a ‘sweetheart’. Your frightened eyes linger on him for another moment, really taking in the broad shoulders and the muscles and the hair falling over his face, the dark, green eyes that are glaring at you like you’ve interrupted something very important. There’s a scar by his mouth that you also do your best not to stare at, just in the same way you avoid staring at how the form-fitting t-shirt he’s wearing clings to a muscled abdomen.

“It’s Mr, actually,” he says, which seems absurd in the face of him, standing there. He raises one eyebrow at you. “You were expecting my daughter, right?”

(You don’t know it, but Toji Fushiguro has gotten a read on you in less than a moment. He’s seen the wide eyes and the pretty mouth and the neatly appointed outfit, the pencil tucked behind your ear, the slightest tremble faced with his imposing presence – the fear as you’d seen the scar and the smoulder and the body. You’re adorable.)

“I . . . uuh--” Your cheeks are hot. You nod, weakly, and he walks into the room proper, the door swinging shut behind him with a deafening click. There’s danger in every one of this man’s movements, like a wolf who has finally cornered a little rabbit. You are feeling inexorably like prey, at this moment in time.

“I was expecting a man,” he says, shrugging. He sits at the chair in front of Gojo’s desk, pulled up just for him. He looks huge in the classroom; his shoulders too wide, his biceps bulging from the sleeve of the shirt. You don’t think this man was intending to be in a school classroom right now. “I guess you’re not Mr Gojo, huh? Gotta say,” he shoots you a grin that’s dangerous, everything about him is threatening. “I much prefer this development.”

“Oh,” you’re blustering, and it’s so cute. You sit back down in the chair with a quiet displacement of air, agitation in your fingers as you rake through the papers on the desk. Said desk is incredibly messy; Toji doesn’t think it’s yours. He ought to feel mad that they’ve palmed him off on some little assistant who’s probably not even fully qualified yet – instead, he’s watching your hands trembling and your teeth nibbling on your pretty mouth. “Y-yes, G-Gojo’s dealing with the parents of the other party--”

“My kid got into a fight, yeah?” He asks. “Decked ‘em pretty good, from what I heard.” You wince at his words, and that’s cute too.

“Megumi’s a good boy,” you say. “He’s just . . . got his own sense of justice, I think.” You look down at the papers, and your eyes seem to focus, back in a more comforting zone. “He’s been suspended for three days, and when he comes back, he’s on probation.”

“What’s that mean for him?” Toji asks, promptly, though something about the way he says it suggests to you he doesn’t really care. There’s a lightness, an airiness in his tone that sets you all off-kilter.

“It just means we’ll probably keep an especial eye on him. He’ll get a report that’ll need signing off on at the end of every period, someone will check up on it--” You see one of Gojo’s scrawled notes in the margin of the paperwork. You wince. “I’ll be in charge of it, actually. Making sure everyone’s happy with his behaviour for a few weeks--”

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

The question makes you jump. You’re like a doe in headlights, looking up at him. You blink slowly.

“I—I don’t think that’s an appropriate question, Mr Fushiguro,” you say, prim. That’s cute, too. He likes breaking prim and proper things like you. “I’m—I’m doing my training. I’m working as an aid here for a year, and then I’ll be qualified to be in charge of my own class.” There’s a hint of pride in your words, there.

“Toji,” he says. “That’s my name. You haven’t gotta call me ‘Mr Fushiguro’. I’m not tryna’ be pushy,” but he’s inched forward. His elbows are resting on Gojo’s desk, in front of you – he rests his chin on his folded hands, sharp eyes regarding you as if you’re something he wants to devour. “Y’just look tense.”

“This is the first time I’ve met a student’s parent,” you admit, though the minute it’s left your mouth you’re regretting it. Like you’re admitting to some kind of weakness. This close to him, you can see there’s a dark red stain on one of his wrists, like dried blood. Your stomach is tying itself in knots. It’s not helping that his forearms are so big, ridged with muscle.

“That so?” His eyes gleam. “What d’ya think of me?”

You don’t actually need to answer him. He can see it in the way your eyes keep nervously skimming over him. The way your lips are shining in the light. The bob of your throat as you swallow.

“Mr Fushiguro--”

“I told you to call me Toji,” his voice is almost mocking. You watch him lean over the table like you’re somewhere far away from the action – watch his hand reach out and cup your face, calloused thumb brushing your cheek, like you’re a ghost in the corner of the room. His palms feel like they’re burning hot. “You’re tremblin’, little lamb.”

You had thought you’d felt like a rabbit – shy, ready to run at any moment. But the moment his hand is on you, you’re docile – too scared to scamper away. You suppose you are like a lamb, staring a wolf straight on in the face, too stupid or too pliant to use your common sense and run.

“I . . . I shouldn’t,” you say, voice trembling just as much as the rest of you. Toji’s smirk hasn’t left his face. You’re saying you shouldn’t, but he just bets if he reached further down and unbuttoned your blouse, your nipples would pebble for him – he just bets there’s a wet stain on your underwear, right now. He can always tell when someone’s turned on by the idea of playing with fire.

“I wouldn’t mind spendin’ a few weeks with you in charge of me,” he muses, and then chuckles humourlessly, correcting himself. “Sorry. Lemme rephrase that. I’d rather be in charge of you, but--”

Oh, he sees that. The little flash in your eyes, an imperceptible contract of your shoulders. If you weren’t behind the desk, he bets he’d have seen your thighs press together too. Girls like you are just so fucking predictable, and he loves it every single time. There’s just something that’s so much fun about breaking them – making them submit, admit that him being so close with the scent of something-that-might-be-death clinging to him turns them on like nothing else. Your attempts at being haughty and polite and proud have just made the stirring between his thighs harder to ignore. You’re such a cute, neat, demure little thing – by the end of this meeting, he’s going to have his way with you, you bet.

“M-Mr Fushiguro,” you say, trying to wrest back control of yourself – honestly, he’s pissed you aren’t listening to him, but the title’s kind of endearing. You’re trying so hard! Pity you’re going to lose all of your manners when you’re bent over this desk with his cock inside you. You haven’t even moved your face away from his hand. “I-I have to give you these papers.”

He stands up, pulling his own touch away from your cheek. Stretches. Your eyes are drawn to the brief expanse of his stomach, just above his trousers – the dark line of hair leading down to . . . Oh, God. You shouldn’t have thought about that. The grin on his face is cocky, and you know that he knows you were looking.

“I’m just gonna throw ‘em in the trash, sweetheart,” he says to you. “Now. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, yeah?” He steps closer to you. You totter to your feet, half-unsure, half driven by the low ache between your legs and the thrum of desire that’s been reverberating through you since the moment he’d carelessly thrown out how much happier he was to see you than Gojo. You have to tilt your head up a little when he comes closer. You’d thought you realised how massive he was when he’d walked through the door, but that’s nothing compared to how his size seems to dwarf you. Every unkind thought you’ve ever had about your body or your face seems to have gone out of the window as his heated green gaze hungrily drinks you in. You know it’s the stare of some predator who’s going to devour you, and you still feel transformed. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand idly comes to the top of your blouse buttons, a finger brushing the place in your throat where your pulse is beating its unsteady rhythm.

“Whaddya say, little lamb?” He grins down at you. “Gonna let yourself be caught by the big bad wolf?”

You’re supposed to be telling this man about his son’s misbehaviour, giving him all of the paperwork that Gojo had thrust at you, getting him to say he’ll talk to his kid and try and make sure that it won’t happen again. You shouldn’t be tipping your head back further, letting his fingertips lodge dangerously in the hollow of your throat, flirting with the place where your windpipe is. You shouldn’t be breathing out, all of your pretty prissiness and good morals and pride disappearing where you stand in the face of one of your students’ really hot dad.

“Yes,” you breathe.

And Toji wastes no time.

3.

He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning your blouse; just drags his hand down, and the buttons pop off, scattering on the floor. You gasp at the show of strength, and Toji is still grinning, clearly enjoying that you’re admiring him. His hand pulls at the fabric, until your breasts are fair falling out of it, the blouse wrestles off your skin.

“You’re wearin’ something like this at work?” He asks you, giving a tug to the gore of your bra. You hadn’t done enough washing this week, and the one you’re wearing is all filmy white lace. “Almost like you knew I was comin’ huh?” His grin is crooked. You tremble as you reach behind you, undoing the clasp – and for that, you get a murmur of ‘good girl’ that has your knees turning to jelly.

He whistles as the bra drops from you, his gaze admiring. He takes in the spill of your breasts, the little peaks of your nipples. He takes handfuls of them, squeezing them in his big hands, his fingertips digging in so painfully you can imagine that you’ll have bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow. The idea doesn’t disgust you.

He lowers his head to kiss you. He’s not gentle with you for a moment – his teeth immediately nip at your bottom lip, kissing you hungrily like you’re the first taste of sugar for a man who’s lived on nothing but bread for months. His tongue licks at your lips, begging entrance – dancing against your own when you helplessly open those same lips, demanding in the exact same way Toji is.

He pinches your nipple between thumb and forefinger, delighting in how quickly the bud hardens. He rolls it between them, toying with it, enjoying the soft noises you make that get caught in his mouth. If he wasn’t kissing you, he thinks, you’d be bleating like a lamb right now. Huffing and whimpering. When he finally gets his cock in you, he’ll have to remember to clap a hand over your mouth so you don’t attract too much attention.

Your other nipple is given the same treatment, hot lightning bolts of pleasure ricocheting from the touch of Toji’s calloused fingers to the spot between your legs. You’re grateful for how solid Toji is – if he were any less so, you’re sure you’d be buckling over where you stand.

He pulls back with a final, marking nip to your lower lip, almost hard enough to make you bleed. You whine, and a dark chuckle spills out of his lips in response.

“Toji,” you whimper as he pulls away. You miss the feel of his body pressed against yours like a physical ache. His hands encircle your thighs, pushing you up onto the edge of Gojo’s desk, clever fingers already pushing your tight pencil skirt up so it’s bunched around your waist.

He kind of misses ‘Mr Fushiguro’ now it’s gone, but the sight of your stockings digging into your thighs soon chases the thought from his mind. He guesses your skirt is more than long and tight enough to make sure nobody gets a glimpse, but oh . . . that you’d be walking around all day, like that, with nobody to fuck you silly--

He can’t help but let his hands knead the soft skin, the flesh, his thumbs imprinting so hard in the plush that you squirm. He’s pressing your thighs apart, now – revealing the modest underwear, the soaking wet patch where he can see the outline of your plump labia lips.

With your legs spread, he can smell how turned on you are. Oh, yeah – he knows your type, alright.

“Ain’t you cute?” He says, chuckling. “You really want me to do you over this desk?”

“You can’t leave me like this--” Your voice is reedy, breathy, almost petulant – at another time, he’d make you beg for it. He’d take his time over you. But although the idea of being caught fucking the cute little teacher’s aid is briefly appealing, he doesn’t really want to make a whole load of trouble for himself when his cock is practically begging to be sheathed inside your wet holes. “Please--”

It’s the please that does it. It’s always the ‘please’ that does it for Toji. He chuckles, smirks, crooked grin – all of it feels like it’s mixing together in your mind, your throat very dry as nothing seems to matter right now except the fact that your sex is practically pulsing with how empty it is, and you think that the hot hard stiffness pressing against your thighs would really help alleviate some of that.

“Aww,” he says, fiddling with his zip and underwear, grabbing his cock and giving it a cursory pump just so you can admire the sheer size of him. “Don’t worry, little lamb. I’ll give ya what you need.”

He gets what he wants. Your eyes, as big and dark as the eyes of a doe – the soft choke of breath as you get to see the size of it, so big his own fingertips don’t quite meet. It’s the kind of cock that could ruin you for somebody else – and you’ve had sex before, of course, but you’ve never taken anything quite like that--

“That’s cute,” Toji murmurs, pressing forward, nestling his slick cock-head between your soaking wet thighs. “Wish you could have seen what a picture your face made just then. Afraid I’m gonna tear you in two?”

He might – he might, you think. But you pout at him and Toji’s cock throbs, as he glides the slick glans through the mess of your arousal, wetting himself even further. Your breath hitches, your hips doing a cute little jerk as it brushes your swollen clit. He can’t help himself but swirl the head over it some more, making your breath catch and whine, bleating like a little lamb--

He sinks his hips forward, and your fingers flex on the edge of the desk, knuckles white, at the relentless sear of his cock driving you open. You feel so stretched out, and he’s barely a third of the way in – he can’t help but watch your expression. He always likes to see someone the first time they’re impaled on his cock – the glassy eyes, slack jaw, the pleasure-cum-pain in their faces. He wants to take a picture of you and keep it in his wallet so he can pump one out to the sight of you when he’s on business trips and too busy to go out and find himself a hole to fuck.

“How’s that feel?” He asks you, so soft and low that you barely catch it. Another slow inch. He lets you feel every ridge, every vein, every bump of his shaft. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“F-full—” you gasp.

“I bet,” Toji replies – and then, he bottoms out inside you. His eyes look down to where the two of you are joined; the slick fluid leaking out of you, all heat and needy. “You fit me like a glove.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, at the lewd way he’s looking at your spread open cunt – the way your hole is fluttering around him, the peeking pearl of your clit. He’s studying you like he wants to learn you by heart.

“Head’s up,” he says. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You’re about to open your mouth, and ask him what he’s doing right at that moment if he hasn’t started fucking you yet – but then, he’s dragged almost the entire length of his cock out of you in one savage thrust and is immediately spearing it back into you, his pace brutal. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back hitting the solid, flat surface of Gojo’s desk so that you’re flat out with your thighs wrapped around Toji’s hips.

If he weren’t so entranced by the feel of your walls fluttering around him, trying to suck him in further and deeper, so tight that you’re basically a vice, he’d grab you by your hair and force you to stay seated whilst he fucked you. But right now, you feel so good that all he can think about is his own release. The wet sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you, the squelch of your arousal and slick making every pump easier and easier. You feel so good. You’re tighter than he even imagined you could be, so good that he kind of wants to take you home and have you take up permanent residence in his bed.

You’re moaning, your back arching with every one of his thrusts – taking it admirably. There’s pain in your moans, yes – he supposes he could have prepared you better, had you come on his fingers a couple of times, if time were not of the essence – but they’re the pained moans of someone who likes to be hurt a little bit.

With every rock of his cock inside of you, he hits some new spot that you’ve never had stoked before, makes the heat and need inside of you swim just a little bit closer to the forefront. You don’t even notice you’re moaning and whining until a big hand slaps over your mouth, rough, hot palm against your lips, smearing your lipstick.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet,” Toji says to you, through those savage thrusts of his cock inside of you. “You don’t want your . . . your fuckin’ . . . anyone walkin’ in on you being railed by your student’s dad, do you?” You shake your head, but he feels the throb of your cunt around his cock, the way your walls contract, and he adds it to the store of things he’s learning about you. Always the quiet ones, right? Always the proper ones who look as though they’ve never even seen a cock--

The feel of him inside you is absolutely dizzying, so much and so full that you can no longer think. His cock batters against a certain place in your channel, a textured wall – and before you know it, everything is going dizzy and black and white like exploding fireworks, your chest bursting into heat, your inner walls getting so tight around Toji as you come that he thinks you’ll be the one to fucking break him.

Oh, you’re adorable, creaming on his cock – the slick gush of your arousal around him, the dreamy cast in your eye, the fact he can feel you drooling against his palm. He increases the speed of his own thrusts, chasing his release through the weak aftershocks and smaller pulses of you around him, through the over-sensitive squirming of your cute little cunt, the fact that tears are pooling in your eyes at how much everything is suddenly feeling--

He groans and the hand still clinging to your thigh is suddenly pressing so hard you think he’ll snap your bone, ragged breath;

“Fu—fuuuck, sweetheart, you’re gonna take it all, that’s right, good girl--” in between belaboured, ragged pumps, his cock twitching as he manages to pull out at the last moment and his release spills all over your thighs, luridly glistening wet in the overhead fluorescent lights.

That’s another moment he’d take a picture of, if he could.

He’s not the kind of man who waits around. He gives himself ten seconds, to catch his breath, to admire your plush thighs painted with his come, before he’s tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping zippers and doing buttons. He shoves his hands into his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a second – double checking he’s left nothing of his in the classroom.

Yep. All clear.

He turns to leave, air of cocky confidence back – you only just see the shifting muscles in his back as he turns to go, leaving you where you are. You’re lucky he’s so tall, or you’d probably barely have seen him in front of the door frame (you didn’t even lock the door, anyone could have walked in at any time! You don’t even want to know what Gojo would say if he’d walked in to his aid being fucked like a slut across his desk).

“W-wait,” you say, weakly, still sprawled over the desk with his come cooling on your thighs. You manage to prop yourself up on your elbows, but your entire body feels like it’s just taken a battering. He takes a look back at you from the door, dragging a big hand through his hair, his crooked grin still on his face. You look so pretty like that – all fucked out and messy, the shine taken off of you. “T-the paperwork--”

You’re not sure where said paperwork is. Underneath you, maybe? You hope it didn’t get soaked.

“Told ya’,” he says, dismissively. “I’m just gonna throw it in the trash. Thanks for the fun, sweetheart. See y’around, huh? I should do stuff for the kid’s academic career more often.”

The door slams shut behind him.

[srbachchan]

DAY 4826

Jalsa, Mumbai                 May 15/16,  2021              Sat/Sun 12:29 AM

The Gods are angered .. CoViD continues but the efforts are coming in and the graphs at some places are beginning to show some stability, though not completely out of the woods ..

Cyclone Tauktae in the Arabian Sea intensifies along the Western Coasts of India .. from the South moving up .. the effects of its arrival have begun here in Mumbai with rain as I write ..  the preparations for the monsoon rain sheds had just begun so the vulnerability of leaks , is there and the dealing with rain leakages about is a concern .. we try to make some make shift arrangements .. but they are weak and not entirely protective .. 

The severity of the monsoons as you all know is massive and all buildings and locations become most vulnerable during those 3-4 months of its presence ..

The JVPD Scheme is a low lying area and flooding is most imminent .. so ..

The word ‘tauktae’ .. the naming of storms cyclones typhoons et all are taken up and suggested by the countries in the region and this name has been given by Myanmar , erstwhile Burma , which is the name of a ‘vocal lizard’ ..

The work though on the care fronts continues and happily I was able to deliver the first lot of 10 ventilators to the desired locations .. the Municipal Corporation of the City , and 3 Hospitals and one clinic .. the balance 10 that I have ordered should be in in a few days and they too shall be distributed to care centres and Hospitals in dire need .. 

6 were sent to the BMC, under the request of its Commissioner Mr Iqbal Singh Chahal, who has done great innovative work in controlling the spread of the virus in the City, by bringing down the numbers .. the ventilators were asked to be directed to his Addl., Com., Mr Chore, who then directed it to ms Shashibala, the lady from the Comm., office looking after deliveries , who then directed us to send it to the Andheri Sports Complex to Mr Raju Palkar, who has received them and the distribution shall be under the discretion of BMC, looking at the various needs .. 

I shall be requesting the BMC to let me have a report on the delivery, the setting up and the functioning of these machines at the allocated locations, so we can keep a record of its proper usage ..

The other 4 have been delivered to Hospitals - Sion Hospital along with some accessories that they needed to help in the detection process in these times ; Nair Hospital ;  Kaleskar Hospital  and the Jewel Nursing Home .. 

This is no way a reflection or an indication , that these Hospitals do not have facilities of their own, they do, but in extenuating circumstances, such as what we are facing, every drop counts ..  

The first consignment of the 50 Oxygen Concentrators ordered and bought by me from Poland should be on a plane as I write, and shall be landing in Delhi by 6 am tomorrow morning, on the Polish Airline LOT .. flight WAW/DEL /LO 1071 .. these shall be cleared by the Gurudwara Committee where I have donated in the building of the 400 bed facility and which was inaugurated the other day .. 300 functional immediately and the balance 100 in due time .. and the O2 concentrators shall also be donated to this facility for their discretionary use.

These are the 10 litre concentrators, but research from my office informs me that the 5 litre ones are also acceptable and in greater demand .. so I have bought another 50 oxygen concentrators today of the 5 litre capacity, and hopefully they should be despatched to us in a few days .. these shall be distributed to the needy facilities in Mumbai ..

My gratitude and gracious thanks to several people in the fructification of this delivery - The Govt.of Poland, the Mayor of Wroclaw,   Mr Jacek Sutryk , the Indian Ambassador Mr Namgyal, and the Indian Consul Mr Johri for most generously helping in easing the logistics of transporting it over to India. 

The 25 bedded Care Centre that I had donated for to be put up in a School in Juhu is happily all ready .. the facilities are all in place .. and just today the relevant OC’s have beem obtained from the BMC and the Fire Brigade .. just one more permission is due to come tomorrow and with that the facility shall be ready to operate by Tuesday or Wednesday .. this is for the really needy and those that cannot afford the expenses required for their treatment ..  

...👆🏾 the 25 bedder facility .. beds , store room , numbering of beds in process .. all oxygen piping etc., all done .. 

And the Diagnostic Centre that I donated to for the Bangla Sahib Centre for the needy at free to very low affordable rates is all set and the MRI machine and some other ancillaries that I bought for them, all supplied and ready for operation ..

This 👇🏿 is the lay out of the Centre :

.. there shall be a dedication of course .. but details of that later .. 

There is always a sense of satisfaction on seeing your efforts at giving to the needy .. to those in distress .. to them that have lost their jobs due to the non functional-ability of their work professions .. those on the daily wages .. those who’s production films have been stopped because no shootings are allowed .. those who had bet their last Rupee on the completion of a film or a web series they were working on and getting paid .. 

I give wherever I can .. my means are extremely limited .. it may not seem so , but they are .. somehow by the grace of the Almighty they come to me .. I have not made any effort to collect them through campaigns or donations to a cause that I may have instituted .. I just feel asking someone for funds is embarrassing for me .. yes there have been events in the past where the voice is for contributing, but I feel uncomfortable to ask , to contribute .. I may have partaken in the event as a voice over, but never directly asked to give or contribute .. and if there have been such unseen or unknown incidents then I seek forgiveness .. 

I have, not out of seeking praise, given descriptions of the work done this time, but just to assure all, of the delivery and the visuals of where the funds have been used and to what avail .. that they are not just blank promises .. 

There have been many such campaigns and events where the organisers have collected funds for most worthy causes .. and that is most laudable .. but with all due respect and modesty, at times the amount that I have personally individually donated, matches the funds collected out of the campaigns .. 

I did not ask .. I gave ..  

This has probably been a most un endearing post for the Blog .. and I do apologise for that .. for one that has ever promulgated a desire to be silent and do my work, I have crossed my own LOC - the Line of Control .. 

It has come about through incessant cries from many to SPEAK .. but speak is not the desired element according to me in these times .. and the less said on this the better ..

ek chup sau sukh .. एक चुप सौ सुख  

AND .. I really must stop .. before my own words get thrown back at me :

 “a sophisticated rhetorician intoxicated by the exuberance of his own verbosity” 

BECAUSE  ..

“the whole country of the system is juxtapositioned by the haemoglobin in the atmosphere”

GN ..