#Salt Salt when I catch you. when i catch you Salt

[moni-logues]

Home Run

Pairing: Bangchan x reader (afab, she/her)

Genre: smut, basically pwp but there's a semblance of plot if you read the other pieces, friends-to-lovers

Word count: 2.2k

Content: protected sex, Chan pov

Summary: Different Spaces couple finally score a home run

A/N: when I wrote Different Spaces (over a YEAR ago? 💀💀) I fully intended for them to fuck, but apparently, no, they needed three whole drabbles to themselves. anyway, enjoy! Thanks to @amethystwrytes for beta-ing for me!

Different Spaces (1); Scoreboard (2)

* * *

“Please,” you gasped, voice still high and tight, breath caught in snatches. “Please, can we fuck now?”  

And the starting pistol was fired. You moved off the sofa and Chan moved with you, stumbling towards your bedroom, though he didn’t know why. Didn’t know why the sofa wouldn’t suffice, why it was somehow sullied now. Didn’t care. As long as this happened, kept happening, as long as he got to see you and hear you and touch you some more; his desire yawned open in his chest, awake and hungry. Let out of its cage. 

These past months, away from you, Chan had thought was for the best. His confusion and these feelings that he didn’t believe, didn’t understand, he didn’t want to face you with them. Didn’t want to face them at all. Because it wasn’t what you were. You were friends. That was all and he didn’t want to ruin it. Thought that he was sure to, somehow.  

But now it was a tangle of limbs and sticky skin against sticky skin. All sweat and salt and a kind of feverish urgency he hadn’t expected, hadn’t even dreamt of. He had kept his feelings on lock-down, thought they might go away if he didn’t prod at them, didn’t acknowledge them, but he couldn’t ignore them now: now with your mouth on him like that, with your hands roaming his body, as he swallowed your moan down his throat.  

This pent-up desire was free and he was dizzy with it. Tripping over his feet and tumbling to the mattress on top of you; making up for his clumsiness with kisses on every inch of skin his lips could reach. 

And you, asking, begging, again, one more time, still, even when his lips crushed yours and cut off your words; the second you broke free, you were saying it again. Fuck me. And he was going to, was about to, was pushing himself to his knees and then it hit him. 

“Oh shit,” he breathed, sitting back on his heels with a sigh, hands braced on his knees to try to catch his breath. 

“What?” you asked, similarly panting. “What?” 

“Condom?” 

“Fuck!” 

He watched you twist, your legs trapped between his, to scramble at your bedside unit. He watched your hand search and come up empty, drag open the second drawer and repeat its motions.  

“Do you have one?” you asked, head turned away, struggling to get to the bottom drawer without moving off the bed completely. 

“Why would I have one?” Chan asked back in a squawk though he wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt self-conscious, defensive even.  

“I don’t know; don’t guys carry them in their wallets or something?” 

“You’re my friend; wouldn’t it be weird if I came here with a condom?” 

You turned to look at him, then. Sat up, naked, still squared in with his knees either side of you. You looked at him. Blinked. 

“I don't know, dude, you tell me what the fuck we’re doing here, then.” 

And it came out harsh. Chan blanched. Because what were you doing? Were you really asking? Had this ruined it? Because he felt guilty that he didn’t have a condom in his wallet. Like he usually did. Always did, though he couldn’t really have said why. It was the same fucking condom he had in his old wallet that he transferred over to the new one. The same one that he looked at before coming here tonight. That he wouldn’t have thought twice about before—wouldn't have even remembered it were there. But it was you and something was different and something told him that he shouldn’t go to your place with a condom in his wallet as if he expected something. As if something could ever happen between you. It was presumptuous. It was arrogant. It was foolhardy. 

But nothing about the night had gone the way he had expected it to and now... That fucking condom. If only he had it.  

“Sorry, you’re rig-”  

Apologising on reflex, his chin dipping to his chest, because he’d only gone and fucked it up by overthink- 

Then your hand was on his face and your lips on his, your fingers sneaking into your hair.  

“It’s fine,” you murmured. “It’s fine.” 

And he didn’t know if it was, but you kept kissing him all the same, so he kept kissing you back. Was it fine if this was as far as it went tonight? His cock said one thing and his head said another. Maybe it was better this way, he thought. Maybe rushing headlong into sex would be a bad idea. Mayb- 

You pulled away. 

“I’ve got some,” you whispered, your urgency returning as you scrambled off the bed. “One sec.” 

Oh, thank god. He watched you walk away, the fingers of one hand encircling his hot, heavy shaft, unconsciously, automatically, unable to stop himself. Unable to stop his heart racing as he looked down and remembered your own fingers around him. The softness of your skin. The jolt of arousal when you had teased him, like you usually did but also nothing like that. 

You returned before he had time to think more and extracted one shiny packet from a box which you then let fall to the floor. There was something about you that was shy: lips a little pursed, eyes looking away. He knew you well enough to tell that much.  

“Forgot I had these,” you said quietly, still not looking at him as you knelt on the bed and made your way towards him. “Bought them earlier.” 

Chan’s shock made him laugh. 

“In anticipation of this...?” 

“No!” your denial was swift. “No, it wasn’t like that! I wasn’t planning anything! I just-” 

But he didn’t care. Was laughing because it was he all night who had been flustered by this. It was he who kept saying the wrong thing, wrongfooted all the time by the turn the night had taken. He enjoyed it being you. Enjoyed that the dynamic between the two of you didn’t have to be entirely different. You could still tease him. He could still tease you. 

“I didn’t plan this,” you said, performatively sullen, pouting. 

“But you want it, right?” 

You laughed and pushed him back towards the head of the bed, not bothering to answer with words. You made him sit, made him once again cede control of his cock to you; he let your fingers wrap around him, watched as you stroked him slowly, as your wrist twisted. His eyes fluttered closed for a second, just a second, and when he opened them again, you had the condom packet between your teeth, tearing it open with your free hand. It was boring, really—a mundane gesture—but his dick throbbed, a drop of precum leaking from the top as you spat the empty packet away from you. 

“You sure about this?” you asked, with the tip of his sheathed shaft at your entrance. 

He nodded eagerly, barely able to stop himself lifting his hips to push into you himself. Then he stopped nodding, flicked his eyes to you because why were you asking?  

“Aren’t you?” he replied, a swoop of doubt flying through his guts. 

You nodded back. 

“I’m sure.” 

A swoop of relief. 

“I’m sure.” 

And then he placed a hand on your hip and used his other to hold himself steady, so you could sink down on him, slowly, with a long moan stretching to the ceiling. And, truth be known, if he could have, he might have asked for a second, just a second, to get used to it. The feeling of you. All warm and wet and tight and your burning skin so soft, and your lips so sweet and your eyes dark and sparkling like the brightest night sky. And his heart hammering in his chest like time was running out; his blood boiling, reduced to a thick, sticky syrup that he told himself wasn’t love, not exactly, but wasn’t entirely not. Just a second to gather himself not just because you felt so good but because it was you. 

You didn’t give him a second. No sooner than you had lowered than you raised yourself up again; you set an impatient pace, urgent, running towards something at breakneck speed. Chan, too, then was running. Chan, too, was urgent in his kisses, in his praise, in the way your name caught at the back of his throat when he felt your walls squeeze around him.  

He wished he’d had longer to think about it. Because he hadn’t given himself the chance to imagine this, to get used to the idea of it, to think about how good you would feel, how sweet you would taste. He hadn’t had the opportunity to picture you in his head before you were right there in front of his very eyes. Real. More than real. A kind of hyperreal that made him able to smell the sound of you and hear your taste. He could feel every one of your gasps in his chest. He could moan out the taste of your skin. He could smell your hair and it would feel like satin.  

It would’ve been less overwhelming, he thought, if he’d given himself an imaginary dry run-through. He would be doing better if he’d had a second. If he got a second to get himself together, he’d be able to get over the shock of it. He’d be able to get a hold of his senses and- 

You slowed. Sank down on him, as deep as he could get, and took his face between your palms. Took his lips between yours then slipped your tongue between them. Rolled your hips and moaned into his mouth. It was the tiny bite of pain when your teeth sank into his bottom lip that brought him to his senses. Like the tug on his hair before, the little jolt was enough to bring him around and he pulled back, determined once more to make the most of this for you.  

“I wanna move,” he said, mumbling the words against your mouth in a final kiss before you slipped off him.  

The fact that you then knelt, waiting to be told where he wanted you, made his guts clench. He traced his fingers lightly over your face and then pushed at your shoulder, encouraging you onto your back. He slipped his hands beneath your ankles and lifted, your knees bending as your thighs reached your chest. 

“This ok?” he asked. 

You nodded, settling your ankles over his shoulders, then crossing them and using them to pull him towards you. He laughed, because it was just like you, to never let him get the last word, to never quite let him be in control. He laughed because he liked it, in this capacity even more than any other. In the seconds before he sank himself back into your hot, wet cunt, he imagined you testing him, pushing at that boundary because you could, because he’d let you, because he knew that you liked this as much as he did and if tussling for control was the game, he wanted to play. Even if he let you win. 

As he snapped his hips with his hands tight around your calves, as your walls spasmed and clenched around him, as his ears filled with the slick squelch of his cock in your heat, his head felt clearer. Still hyperreal but in a way that made sense. When he tasted the sound of his name on your tongue, it tasted right. When he smelt the brush of your soft skin against his like roses, he knew. All his anxiety about fucking it up, ruining your friendship, everything that he had been hiding from while he was gallivanting about the globe, it was pointless. It was wrong. It was useless noise in his brain. Because he’d always believed he wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worthy of you, wasn’t worthy of getting what he wanted. But there you were, beneath him, every bit what he wanted and more. Every bit his. 

*  

“You know there’s no going back now,” you said, lying on your bed, stretching your arms and legs long, still naked and glistening.  

“What do you mean?” he asked as he returned to join you, condom neatly disposed. 

You turned on your side to snuggle into him, pressed a firm kiss to his lips. 

“This,” you answered. “We’ve had sex now so you can’t turn around to me and say you actually just want to be friends.” 

He laughed. It was preposterous to him that you might think he would be the one to change his mind.  

“I don’t want to be your friend.” 

“Good.” 

Then you piped up again. 

“I never really liked you much anyway.” 

He chuckled, knew it was a joke; knew it because it was followed by a smile that was all syrup, that left a sticky sweetness on his mouth after you kissed him. 

“Fat chance I’ll believe that. Horse is out of the barn, mate; you just said it yourself: you can’t take this back.” 

“Fuck. I guess you’re stuck with me.” 

“I think I can live with that.” 

[eringobragh420]

Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Black!Reader Summary: Damian and his girlfriend are on vacation, and the couple gets a little carried away. Warnings: NSFW, obviously, lol. Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! Sex, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, Daddy kink, cum. 18+ Notes: Can't believe I'm posting so soon, but this story flowed so well because the idea was lovely ❤️❤️ Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend, @terrortwinunicorn. If you’d like to be added, please let me know! Requested By: @wrestlingbaby. Hope you enjoy!

Dinner by the water was truly an experience to be had. The warm salt water drifting in from the shore, the crashing of the waves of the ocean, and a beautiful man to share it with. Damian sat across from her, sipping his wine, his attention not as occupied with the scenery as it was on her. She grinned, shaking her head, taking a drink from her own beverage. Of course she loved his attention, but sometimes she wasn’t able to stop her heart from skipping a beat.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said. “Puerto Rico is amazing.”

“Of course, mi vida,” he replied, voice deep, like smoke on velvet, and she squirmed in her chair. No matter how many times he spoke his native language to her, especially when it was in the form of a pet name, she couldn’t control her body’s natural response, which was increasing arousal and, consequently, a wet pair of panties. “Did you like the food?” He nodded at her plate, the contents of which were blocked by the glasses of wine and water peppering the tabletop.

“Boy, what do you think?” she asked, lifting one side of the plate to show she’d finished everything.

Damian guffawed, “That’s my girl.” They finished their respective drinks at the same time. “So, you wanna dance or take a walk on the beach?”

She glanced at the water, the inviting sand, the setting sun, then to the dance floor on the other side of the railing from where the restaurant tables were located. “Why can’t we do both?”

Smirking, Damian stood from the table and offered her his hand. She placed her manicured hand in his, eyes alight as she watched the diamond bracelet, gifted to her by Damian just that morning, slide down her caramel skin, catching the light, sparkling, much like her eyes whenever she looked at her boyfriend. He helped her to her feet, and their hands clasped as he led her to the dance floor. A salsa number was pounding through the speakers, and she danced her way amongst the people. She was grateful Damian had insisted she learn how to salsa before they’d left for the island, especially when he turned to her, raising her hand until their elbows were bent, and his free hand snaked around her waist, his fingers delving within her braids as they hung beautifully down her back. 

“Let’s salsa,” Damian grinned before starting the dance.

There were only a few times she missed a step, Damian not noticing as his eyes were locked on hers, his body moving confidently and, dare she say, sexily. He gently pushed her away from him so she could spin, and then he brought her back, this time her back against his chest. Their hips moved in sync as their knees bent and they sank closer to the floor. Coming back up, she bent forward, hands on her knees, and rolled her hips this way and that, slow, fast, slow again. She knew what her ass did to him. His heavy hands claimed those hips, thumbs pressing into the flesh of her cheeks, and he yanked back, molding them together. She glimpsed him over her shoulder, grinning, and Damian shook his head, wearing his own iniquitous smirk.

“Let’s go walk,” she suggested later, tugging on both his hands to lead him out the exit. They headed toward the beach, but she stopped just before they encountered sand. She removed her sandals and handed them to Damian.

“Oh, I guess I get to carry these,” he teased.

“You better be happy,” she advised, “I coulda made you carry me.” Damian stopped to consider. She looked at him, instantly knowing that expression. “Don’t you dare,” she warned. “Last time you did that, you ripped my dress on one of your rings.”

“I’ll be more careful,” he said, and lunged. She squealed, barely getting three feet from him before he snatched her waist, spun her around, and tossed her over his shoulder, never once losing possession of her sandals. A smooth, successful mission, and she couldn’t help but feel turned on. One of his arms held tight to the back of her knees to hold her fast against him, leaving his free hand many an opportunity to slap the ass he loved, squeeze it, make it bounce. She could only giggle, returning the same gestures to his ass, though she was fairly certain they didn’t have the same effect on him as his did on her.

Damian brought them near the edge of the water before he placed her back on her feet. Next to them were several unoccupied lounge chairs. He wiped one off, and then wiped it off again after she complained she saw sand. He laid down, bringing her with him, and she cuddled into his side. He smelled so good, and he was so warm and firm. She hiked her dress up a bit so she could lift a leg over his. One hand immediately claimed the exposed bottom of her ass, the other gripping her thigh.

“So obsessed with me,” she smiled, mumbling against his neck. She sprinkled kisses all along his skin, hand sliding down his abdomen. His hand on her ass changed its grip from playful to indecent groping. 

“You saying I shouldn’t be?” Damian breathed.

“I’m sayin’ I love it,” she whispered in his ear, kissing the lobe then licking up the shell.

“Mmm you keep going like that …”

“What? I’m gonna get fucked out here on a beach in Puerto Rico?” Her hand made it to the bulge in his black jeans, massaging only here and there, rubbing the head with the pad of her finger. His hips jolted then and the grip on her ass was just this side of painful. “Got anymore threats?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he growled, turning to look at her. “Ride this dick or I’ll throw your ass in the ocean.”

She sat up on an elbow. “Boy, you throw me in that ocean before I get my hair up, I’ll drown your ass and they’ll never find the body.”

Damian’s chuckle was dark, nefarious, and he grabbed a handful of those braids so he could bring her closer. “I love when you get all intimidating,” he said. 

She giggled, the both of them knowing she was the furthest thing from intimidating, but she went with it. “Then you better take that cock out,” she murmured, touching a nail to his bottom lip, “and don’t make me tell you again.” There was no fighting the grin on her glossy lips, as this role was rather far from her comfort zone, but Damian, being with Damian, made everything in life easier. 

Still clutching her hair with one hand, eyes holding hers, he reached down with his other hand and deftly unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned the jeans, and the mixture of the sound of his zipper lowering and the waves crashing nearby, she felt a flood between her folds. Glancing down just in time to watch Damian unleash his big cock from its cage, she whispered an obscenity, bit her lip. 

“So,” she said, sliding down his body. “I guess you probably want me to suck you … or lick you …”

“Fuck yes, I do,” Damian moaned.

“Well, I think you better ask nicely,” she grinned.

Damian’s own smile was strained and he shook his head. “Please, baby, put your pretty mouth on my cock.” She thought about asking him to do it again, but her need was too great, and so she wrapped her glistening lips around the head, applying gentle suction, tongue lapping at a bead of precum. Damian fell back against the chair, eyes closed. “Fuck, that’s it. God, you’re so good at that.”

She smiled around him, basking in the praise, and she took him further into her mouth with each bob of her head. His moaning became louder and louder the more and more she was able to fit in her mouth. She pulled back slowly, sucking hard this time, cheeks collapsed, lips bruised, and she popped off. She placed a few butterfly kisses on the underside, a tiny lick there, and then she pulled away, jerking him with her hand. The one with the gorgeous bracelet, and she had to stop and admire as the jewelry jiggled and sparkled as she pumped Damian’s own gleaming cock.

“I’m gonna ride this dick, Daddy,” she whispered, and Damian suddenly grabbed the base of his cock, glaring at her as she stood. She giggled, sliding her panties down her satiny legs, and before the garment could touch the sand, she grabbed it and gently stuffed some of it into Damian’s mouth. He groaned, clamping his lips around the lacy material.

Straddling him, she slowly sank onto Damian’s rock hard member, throwing her head back as he stretched her inch by agonizing inch. Hands on his chest, she raised her hips until he nearly fell out, then she slid back down, coating his cock with all the slick that had been collecting since the salsa. “Shit,” she cried, “you fill me up so good.”

Damian grunted, “Because you’re so fucking tight.”

She could still see the restaurant where they’d eaten and danced not too far in the distance and she moaned, chewing on the inside of her cheek. It was then she noticed her boyfriend had lowered the sleeves of her dress enough that he could also pull the front of her dress down, revealing her perfect breasts and hardened nipples. He instantly leaned forward, her panties falling from his lips, and took a dusky nipple into his mouth, flicking with his tongue, nibbling with his teeth, and the squeal that escaped her lips might have been embarrassing if she wasn’t so caught up in the moment. Her hips accelerated, riding him fast, hard, and Damian groaned.

“I’m gonna cum,” he confessed.

“Inside me,” she panted, bouncing, mesmerizing Damian with her perfect tits. “Cum inside me, Daddy.”

“Yeah?” Damian breathed. “Is that what you want? Want me to fuck a baby into this tight pussy?”

“Fuck yes,” she moaned.

The couple felt more comfortable, despite her being on birth control, when Damian wore a condom when cumming inside her, but there were decidedly no condoms within reach, and Damian was never able to say no to this gorgeous woman riding his cock. He gripped her breasts, grazing her nipples with his thumbs, and she clenched around him, crying out, as she came. Damian shouted next, shooting rope after rope of his thick cum deep inside his girlfriend’s soaking cunt, and fuck, this felt way better without a condom. 

“Damn,” she smirked, and their lips came together. “Let’s do that shit again.”

Two-and-a-half months later, she sat on the couch in their living room, alone, waiting for Damian to come home. The television was on, but she paid no attention to it. She could only stare at the box on the cushion beside her—a plain, white box, wrapped in a satin white bow. She was excited about the contents, though it had taken a few days to work her way out of shock and into excitement. Damian was gone for Raw, but she expected him back any moment. She thought maybe she knew how he would react—probably how she had: shock followed by excitement—but she didn’t want to assume either way. She had to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

The front door opening nearly sent her out of her skin, and she rolled her eyes, attempting to relax herself before Damian saw her. He left his luggage by the door and bent over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and covering her neck and cheek in kisses. He mumbled how much he’d missed her, missed holding her, smelling her, kissing her, all the while removing his sneakers before he climbed over the couch and fell onto the cushions beside her. Despite her nerves, she grinned, kissing him with everything she had, just in case this was the last time.

“Wanna go upstairs?” Damian slurred against her mouth.

“Of course,” she replied, “but first … I got you a present.” She grabbed the box and handed it to him, maybe a little roughly, but she was worried she wouldn’t be able to let go.

“Awesome,” he said, “but maybe I could open you first …”

She shook her head. “Present, then me.”

Damian pulled at the bow, lifted the lid, and paused to read the note taped there. 

Daddy, we haven’t met just yet, but something tells me you’re going to be amazing

After a very long, unsettling moment, Damian removed the tissue paper in the box to reveal a white onesie with words in script on the front which simply read Hello, Daddy. He gingerly lifted the garment from the box with both hands, cradling it, and as small as it was, it was miniature in Damian’s grasp. His thumb caressed the word Daddy. She watched silently, utterly shaking, allowing him to soak in the news at his own pace. When he did finally look at her, his eyes were wet, though no tears had fallen just yet. 

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, cleared his throat, and tried again. “When, uh … when did …?”

“When did you knock me up?” Maybe humor would ease the tension? He nodded. “Remember Puerto Rico …?”

He quickly understood, nodding. “And the birth control …?”

“You know how they say it’s only 99% effective … I guess we’re the 1%.” Damian nodded again, still staring at the onesie. “Please say something,” she begged, near to tears herself.

Damian let go of the onesie so he could scrub his hands over his face, and that couldn’t be a good sign, she thought. But then he sniffed, and she realized he was wiping away those tears that had finally fallen. He picked up the onesie and fell to his knees on the floor in front of the couch. He unfolded her legs so he could fit between them, and he positioned the baby’s clothing over her flat stomach. Wrapping his arms around her middle, locking them between her back and the back of the couch, he first kissed her belly and then laid his head there. She let out a breath, tears falling freely, and she held him.

She cleared her throat. “So you’re happy?”

Damian raised his head to look up at her. “I’ve neve been happier in my life. I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

** Mi vida - My life

[f0point5]

literally anything with Max, Emilia, and Daniel please I’m begging after yesterday 🙏🙏🙏

No because this almost turned into a Singapore crack fic lol. But I saved it.

And yes I did listen to the song so that I could check this whole thing could happen within it’s time limit. But also this could so easily have been Tenerife sea but I Daniel-ed it up lol.

Anyway I hope you enjoy it!

✨Set in April 2024✨

I’ll drink what you think, and I’m high

It’s getting dark later now. It’s 7pm and the sun in only now setting over the mountainside, turning the clear sky all manner of gold and peach and baby blue. It’s the first good weather of the month, which is what gave you the idea of sitting out on the rooftop patio. Daniel just happened to call Max as you were mixing a Bellini, which is how he’d got roped into what turned into what you’d dubbed a “Wine and Whine” evening.

So there Max sits, listening to Daniel talk about grape yields while you fiddle with the stereo. Max interjects at the right moments, but mostly he’s watching you bent over in a tight Missoni dress, trying to connect your phone Bluetooth to the speakers.

That’s how good the dress looks, Max thinks to himself. I even remember the name of the shop.

“So I’m like mate, I don’t know shit about grapes, that’s what I pay you for,” Daniel explains now. “And he’s looking at me like I’ve fucked his grandma in front of him. But I’m right. I drive cars for a living and I don’t even like grapes, that’s his job,”

“Yeah, but what if-“

Max is cut off by the sound of your squeal. He looks across the patio to see you bathed in golden light, sporting a bright grin.

“Danny, it’s your song,” you declare, teetering toward the boys on your wedge heels.

“She’s so pissed,” Daniel says through a chuckle.

“I heard that,” you shoot back, holding a hand out to him. “Now, dance with me,”

The gentle strumming of a guitar gives way to an American accent with a somber tone.

Daniel rolls his eyes but gets to his feet, taking your hand and pulling you along the concrete to the middle of the patio.

The music is not Max’s taste, not something he understands, but it’s…warm.

That’s how he feels watching Daniel pull you close, starting to sway you in small circles around the patio. He thinks about how both you and he needed Daniel before you needed each other, how Daniel had been your friend when Max was too scared to be, and he’d been Max’s friend even when it must have been like salt in a wound.

Daniel looks down and says something to you that Max can’t hear. Whatever it is, it is has you rolling your eyes in the way you do when you’re trying not to tear up. He watches you nod in what seems like agreement before shrugging your shoulders.

In the next breath, Max hears your voice singing along above the music.

“We all know, you tiptoed,” you sing, “up to six foot, in grill the grid,”

This pulls a deep, throaty laugh and a “fuck you” from Daniel, his head thrown back so much that he pulls you forward with him.

You’re singing at each other now, bodies shaking through laughter. The sound of a harmonica pierces Max’s ears as Daniel twirls you under his arm, your eyes catching the light of the setting sun as you turn.

Fuck. You are so beautiful.

“Max, come take over,” Daniel calls, beckoning him with one hand. “I need another drink,”

Max gets up and goes over to your swaying form just as Daniel lets you go. He pats Max on the back as he passes, turning to look at you both before he slips through the patio door, out of sight due to the reflection in the glass.

Your glassy eyes and the heat of your skin make Max think you’re probably looking at two of him right now, but he doesn’t mind, as long as you’re looking at him. He takes hold of you, fighting a smile at the way you sink into him in a way you wouldn’t with Daniel. Your hand slides around his neck and his instinctively goes to rest on the curve of your hip, bringing you so close he can smell your perfume and Sauvignon blanc.

In the background, the music picks up, the southern drawl a little more lively even though the words are still morose.

“I don’t get why you guys like this song,” Max says, guiding you out and then under one of his arms so that your back his against his chest. “It’s about a funeral,”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s about a family,” you tell him, craning your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

Max nods, letting go of one your hands to spin you out and then back towards him. He catches you smiling at the effortless way he moves you around. He may not particularly like dancing but he’s been given three gifts in life. One is coordination. The second is control.

“It’s about the little things that stick with you about the people you love. The things about them that made you who you are,”

And the third is you.

He still doesn’t hear the song the way you do. He doesn’t see the world the way you do. But he knows he wants to listen to you explain the world to him for however long he’s in it.

“It’s about a funeral,” he says plainly, which only makes you shake your head.

“I love you, Max Verstappen.” Your words are as plain as his.

He wants to say it back. He even opens his mouth to try. But sometimes, like now, Max hates that word because it seems so wholly inadequate. He’s never been good with words anyway.

Instead, he kisses you, a kiss that tips you backwards, has you leaning into the hand on your back that holds you up. He can feel you smiling against his lips as he straightens.

When he pulls away, you follow him, placing one more peck on his lips before leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder as you continue to dance. Max notices then that the golden hues have left the sky, the colour now the same as the Japanese Cherry blossoms. He breathes in the scent of roses on your skin as he pulls you closer.

“What was he saying to you?” He asks quietly, his cheek moving against yours as he speaks.

“Who?” Your reply is lazy, almost a purr against his neck.

“Daniel. What did he say while you were dancing?”

Max doesn’t know how he can tell you smile at that, but he knows.

“Oh. Nothing,” you say. The music slows, and a woman’s voice joins the man’s against a single guitar. “He thinks we’re yuppies,”

[thewritetofreespeech]

Night 162: Children

words: 1131 rating: G pairing: Gale x Tav summary: Gale & Tav return from the Reunion for an afternoon of tea and interrogations from his mother.

Ao3 - 1000 Night Series

---------------------------🟣----------------------------------

Summers in Waterdeep were some of the most beautiful and peaceful in Faerûn. Or so Tav had come to realize.

Baldur’s Gate was nice, with its coves & sunlit ports, but it was nothing compared to the cool breeze off the ocean. The smell of salt in the air. And, of course, the spontaneous evening trips to the shoreline to dip ones feet in cold water and warm sand her husband.

Not that Tav didn’t miss her old home of the Gate. She enjoyed visiting and catching up with old friends. Extending the trip for the party to stop in on the way back to catch up with those who had not been able to attend. The couple had actually just gotten back from their vacation a few days ago, and Gale was regaling his mother on his latest find at Sorcerous Sundries.

“Can you believe it mother?? A real, genuine first edition Arcana Archivist Annals. Practically mint condition!”

“I suppose it helps to know the proprietor, and have his life indebted to you.” Morena remarked as she finished pouring the tea and handed Tav the first cup.

“The 10% educators discount doesn’t hurt either.” The two of women chuckle as Gale huffed and flopped back into his mother’s patio chair with a ‘no one understands me’ sulk.

“And how was the rest of your trip, dear? Surely it wasn’t all books.”

“If Gale had his way….” The man in question glared playfully at her. “But no. It was good to see how the city has grown after the rebuild. It’s odd. It’s all brand new in most cases, but strangely the same. Wyll and his father have done a splendid job of reworking the internal structure of the city as well. He’s done well as Grand Duke.”

“Good to have friends in high places. Not just book shops.” The trio laughed at Gale’s quip this time. Not just at him.

“And there’s…..nothing else to report?” Morena asked inquisitively. Which peaked Gale’s interest.

“No. Unless you want to know more about the weather.” He remarked before collecting his tea. “Is there something specific you wanted to know about our trip, mother? It’s not like you to be coy.”

“Very well. I was hoping while you were away for some time, you might return to tell me your pregnant.” Gale choked hard on his tea and floundered with the fine china for a moment. “I guess not….”

“Pregnant!” Gale replied aghast. “Why would you think we’re pregnant!?”

“Not really thought so much as hoped.” Morena clarified. “I’d very much like a grandchild.”

Gale turned to Tav in a manner for some sort of help, but she was too stunned as well by the conversations to offer any. “We…We haven’t been married that long…”

“Your father and I were married about as long as the two of you when you came into the picture.” The older woman noted. “Besides, it’s not just that. The Dekarios family needs an heir. Surely, you’ve thought about the future of our line.”

Gale shifted from flabbergasted to embarrassed. “Well, I uh….”

“Gale!”

“Well, I’ve been a little busy mother. Saving the world from an Elder Brain and trying not to turn into a mind flayer. Now trying not to get my head blown off by pre-teen wizards. Teaching children does not really rally one to the experience.” Tav had to agree there.

Gale sighed and sat back in his chair again. “What brought all this on mother? This is a lot to…spring on a person.”

“Well, I was thinking about it while you were away and thought I’d ask about your future plans. Neither one of us is getting any younger, dear.” There was a lot of secret conversation going on between the Dekarios kin in that moment as Morena sipped her own teacup. “The two of you should really start thinking about it. Children are a blessing.”

“I agree with Mr. Dekarios.” The people at the table turned as Tara floated onto the patio. Landing delicately on a pillow that was clearly always there for her. “Children are loud, destructive, and impatient little creatures. Like imps, but with better table manners. Or at least one hopes.” The Tressym licked her paw as if to make a point. “You shouldn’t have them.”

“So the Dekarios line just ends with Gale?” Morena asked as a counterpoint.

“Certainly. Better to go out with a bang. Oh, apologies. Was that insensitive?”

Gale groaned and stood up from his chair. “If this conversation is going to continue, I’m going to need something stronger than tea to get through it.” He walked back into his childhood home and straight for the bar.

Tav followed after him while Morena & Tara talk. Her presence in the discussions of their futures seeming not to be a requirement at all. “Are you ok?”

“Hm? Oh. Yes. I’m fine. A little taken aback though.” Gale commented as he inspected one of the bottles and sat it back down. “Don’t worry. I’m not rattled enough to be driven to drink. Just needed to get away.”

“I can certainly sympathy.”

“But my mother….Gods! Springing that on us like that. To force our hands to make a such a decision over biscuits. I never realized she was so cunning.”

Tav chuckle at his remark, but then got serious for a second. “You know….we’ve never talked about it….”

Gale turned to her with an inquisitive, then surprised, look. “Oh…I mean do you want…do you want to….”

She shrugged. “I’m not against children.” What seemed like eons ago, the former adventurer thought about a life long in the future where she would be settled with a family, including children. With everything that happened that dream was lost until she could catch her breath. Now that she had, Tav wondered if it might be time to take that dream off the shelf again. “I don’t think right now. But….yes.”

Gale seemed taken aback for a moment, but only a little. He then seemed to think on it, nod, then gave her a smile. “I feel that way too. Not now, of course. But not never.” The two of them reach out to take each other’s hands. “I quite like that it’s just the two of us right now.”

“I do too.” Tav agreed.

“That is not what I meant at all Tara! You are twisting my words!”

“Your words are already twisted with that harpy’s tongue of yours Morena!”

Gale sighed as he looked towards the open door. “Well…almost just the two of us….”

Tav snickered and squeeze his hand a little tighter. “Come on. Let’s break them up before they say something they don’t mean.”

“Tara just implied my mother was a harpy. I think that ship has sailed.”

[daitranscripts]

Cole Conversations

Companion Comments

Cole Masterpost

Dialogue options:

Cassandra [1]

Blackwall [2]

Iron Bull [3]

Dorian [4]

Solas [5]

Vivienne [6]

Varric [7]

Sera [8]

Leliana [9]

Josephine [10]

Cullen [11]

1 - Cassandra

Romanced Cole: Petals fall open as lips shape words that rhyme. Candlelight softens the edges.

Cassandra’s personal quest incomplete Cole: Stomach full of mantras, she burns like a beacon, Faith a flame to bring succor for a Seeker.

Cassandra’s personal quest complete Cole: Faith seeks a friend in Compassion, cautious, careful, too much grey but growing.

2 - Blackwall

Romanced He feels naked without the name on the armor, but now he knows you want him naked.

Blackwall’s personal quest incomplete An old name burns inside armor that shouldn't fit, lit by faces of the children he couldn't save.

Blackwall’s personal quest complete The name breaks free, pulls the pain with it. A black wall to shield the self when the sky is rainier.

3 - Iron Bull

Romanced Tied, but tenderly, loving in the letters of a word that would stop it, knots in satin scarves.

Personal quest active “The,” a joke. He laughs to himself, imagining herds of cattle in fields of iron, but now he worries it fits.

Personal quest complete, made Tal-Vashoth Salt-spray smell of Seheron. Lost in smoke from a burning ship. Guilt at not feeling guiltier.

Personal quest complete, sacrificed the Chargers Copper on the lips. Dalish lies dead-eyed beside me. He'll come, he'll call, he won't leave us. Horns pointing up.

4 - Dorian

Romanced Glittering to gloss a hidden hurt. Unlearning not to hope for more. Stumbling steps where the wall used to be.

Giselle gave letter, have not met Dorian’s father Bright, like the fish that kill you if you eat them. Can't hate you for hiding if you burn so brilliantly.

After meeting Dorian’s father He tried to melt a snowflake because he liked waterfalls. Swallowing bile and pride as he sees his son defend himself.

5 - Solas

Cole’s personal quest complete Voice ringing with fullness from both worlds, guiding me to the shining places. He calls himself Pride.

High approval, other conditions unknown Old pain, shadows forgotten from dreams too real. This side is slow and heavy, but here is what can change.

Personal quest completed Wisdom knows enduring is pain. He hurts for her, another of many he couldn't save. He carries necessary deaths.

6 - Vivienne

Personal quest not started A breath-caught smile from the Enchanter as the candle lights. The walls are safe; she will never be hungry again.

Personal quest completed A cold flame blazes in a robe worth more than children. Protect her, and she consumes you, burning because she can.

7 - Varric

Cole’s personal quest complete Kid, says the stone. Kid, kidding. It would keep me kept with a name, but the cairn can't catch me.

Hawke lives, other conditions unknown He writes words that aren't real, but they are for him, in a quiet place whose stone shape shakes the ground.

Hawke left in the Fade The stone is cracked, split, jagged. The hawk would have been safe if it had stayed, but that isn't what hawks do.

8 - Sera

Romanced Fleet-footed and free, the arrow that caught the miller's sack, but no longer shot alone, aquiver in a quiver.

Cole more human Shite. He's wrong. Dead-eyed crazy, shite. I called him a 'him'. Is he alive, is everything alive, shite. I hate raisins.

Cole more spirit She hurts, but helping hurts more. She sees the strings that pull me, eyes like raisins in a stale cookie.

9 - Leliana

Leliana’s personal quest not started The Left Hand remembers a knife slipped to her in the darkness, and wonders why the flower blooms.

Leliana hardened The Left Hand is harder, faith fallen in folly. It makes the dreams worse, but sends them away faster.

Leliana softened The Left Hand blooms on the bush, remembering the light that shone in her darkness. She knows how to sing again.

10 - Josephine

Romanced Steel flashes, like at the top of the stairs, but this time she knows her voice and it ends with a kiss.

Josephine’s personal quest started She spins, plucking strings, matching wits and words, an admiral who will never send ships of her own.

Josephine’s personal quest complete Ships launch on changing winds. Dizzy sometimes, like the top of the stairs, but sometimes like dancing.

11 - Cullen

Romanced Safe and solid, protecting and proud. He feels like quiet, stronger when you hold him.

Personal quest incomplete, talked about lyrium He is quiet, behind the noise. The little bottle makes him shake, but he tests the chains.

Continued lyrium He sounds right again with the chains in place, but the music makes him sad.

Quit lyrium He sounds new, echoes of laughter on an empty riverbed. Not for sailing, but safer.

[urbabycowboy]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚 ᝰ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; inspired by california by lana del rey.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; none. absolute fluff

𝐰𝐜; 1,000+

𝐬𝐡𝐞; hiii. lmk what you think of this. first thing i’ve ever wrote of the triplets.

the sun had just began to set over the golden state, casting a warm glow across the land. the air was heavy with the scent of pine trees and the distant salt of the ocean. it was summer in california, and the days were long and lazy.

matt had been on the road for what felt like forever. he was making his way up the coast, just him and his old pickup truck against the world. he’d left his small hometown in the dust, seeking adventure and a fresh start. but tonight, he found himself longing for something more.

as he drove through the redwood-lined highways, the song “california” by lana del rey played on the radio, filling the cab of his truck with her haunting vocals. the lyrics resonated with him, stirring up memories of a time long past.

he pulled over at a viewpoint, overlooking the vast pacific ocean. the sky was painted with hues of pink and orange, the sun sinking bow the horizon. he rolled down the window, breathing in the fresh sea breeze. that’s when he saw her.

a figure stood at the edge of the viewpoint, her silhouette framed by the fading light. there was something so familiar about her, and as he stepped out of his truck, he realized why. it was her, the girl from his past, the one who had haunted his dreams for so long.

“hey,” he called out, his voice carrying across the quiet evening.

she turned, her face illuminated by the soft twilight. a smile played on her lips, and her eyes sparkled with a familiar warmth. “hey you. it’s been a while.”

matt nodded, feeling a rush of emotions. “yeah, it has. what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same question,” she replied, taking a few steps towards him. “but i’m glad i ran into you. i’ve been meaning to get in touch.”

matt felt a spark as their eyes met, the same spark he remembered from their first encounter ever. it was as if no time had passed at all. “me too,” he admitted. “i’ve thought about you a lot over the years.”

her smile widened, and she gestured to the viewpoint. “care to join me? the sunset’s almost gone, but it’s still a pretty view.”

matt followed her lead, and they sat side by side on the edge of the overlook. the sky was now a tapestry of deep blue and purples, the stars beginning to twinkle above. they fell into an easy conversation, catching up in the years that had passed.

“so what brings you back to california?” matt asked, curious about her story.

“i never really left,” she confessed. “i went to college down south, but i’ve always called this place home. there’s just something about the west coast that keeps me here.”

matt nodded in understanding. “i know the feeling. we’ve been traveling up and down the coast, but i keep finding myself drawn back here. there’s a certain magic in the air.”

“exactly,” she said, her eyes shining with a shared sense of wonder. “the sun, the surf, the endless summers. it gets under your skin.”

they sat comfortably in silence for a moment, taking in the beauty of the setting sky. matt felt a sense of peace, a feeling of belonging that he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“you know,” she said softly, breaking the quiet. “if you’re sticking around for a while, i’d love to show you some of my favorite spots. i think you’d like them.”

matt turned to her, seeing the invitation in her eyes. “i’d like that,” he said with a smile. “i’m in no rush to leave anytime soon.”

and so, their summer adventure began. they spent lazy days by the lake, swimming and soaking up the sun. they went camping in the redwoods, stargazing by the light of a campfire. they took road trips along the coast, exploring hidden beaches and quaint seaside towns.

they fell into an easy rhythm, their old spark rekindling into something stronger. they shared inside jokes and created new memories, laughing and loving as if no time had passed at all.

but it wasn’t all sunshine and daydreams. they had their fair share of deep conversations, too, talking long into the night about their hopes, dreams, and fears. they shared their struggles and supported each other, offering a sense of comfort and understanding.

one afternoon, they found themselves napping in a hammock strung between two tall palms. the breeze was gentle, and the sun filtered through the leaves. matt stirred first, his eyes drifting open to see her peacefully beside him.

he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his heart feeling fuller than he thought possible. in that moment, he knew he never wanted to let her go again.

as if sending his thoughts, she stirred, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. “hey,” she murmured, a soft smile crossing her lips.

“hey,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “i was just thinking…”

“yeah?” she propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes searching his.

he took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. “i don’t want this to end. i mean, i know summer can’t last forever, but i want us to keep this going. if you’re up for it, of course.”

relief washed over her features, and she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “i was hoping you’d say that. i don’t want to lose you either. we’ll figure this out.”

and so, as the days turned to weeks and the summer began to wane, they made plans. they called about the future, dreaming up ways to stay together even as the season changed.

the summer nights turned to autumn, and the leaves began to change. but their love remained constant, a warm glow in the shifting seasons. they knew that no matter what life threw their way, they would face it together.

as they walked hand in hand along the beach one crisp autumn evening, matt looked at her, his heart full. “i’m glad i came to california,” he said softly.

she squeezed his hand, her eyes shining in the twilight. “me too. it brought me to you.”

and in that moment, with the waves crashing against the shore and the stars beginning to appear, they knew that their california dream was just beginning.

[wrdlbrmpfd]

When stars align....

Part Two

At 10.30 we decided to sit in the panel room and at 11 a.m the VIP panel began. I didn't live tweet bor did I take many pics, I just wanted to enjoy the full experience.

But I had to take a pic of Jared trying to take his usual sitting position in the arm chair 😂

After the VIP panel we crossed paths with Jared and Jensen in the hallway. Jared was about 3 meters away from me, Jensen about 5 meters. I just stood there, forgot to breathe and stared at them in awe. Oh my God they are even more handsome in person! 🤩 After I recovered from me being a salt pilar I told my friends that I wouldn't be able to talk to them in the photo ops. All that would definately leave my mouth would be "wrdlbrmpft?" (this was an ongoing joke between us and now you know how my name here was born 😂) My poor friends had to suffer under my constant excitement, I was like a puppy dog on speed. We went to the nearby McDonalds again for lunch and then it was time for the werpire couple panel. Ty Olsson and DJ Qualls. Oh my they are so sweet together 🤩 I just realized I didn't take a pic of them on stage 🥺 Neria and I had to leave the panel 15 minutes early bc we had our Jensen ops. And again we stood in a very long line....but finally we made it into the op room. I watched Jensen the whole time till it was my turn. I went up to him and to my utter delight I was able to speak! "Hi Jensen, can we please do something like this?" and I showed him my op reference pic (the Stella hug JoJo marshmallow did with Jared) He looked at me "Hi, of course" and then I was in his embrace and I kinda blacked out. I remember that the fabric of his flanell felt soft but that's about it. Afterwards I thanked him and he said "Your welcome" with a light smile. Folks - I've hugged Jensen Ackles and I survived! Yay!

The op

After Jensen's op we went back to the panel room in hope of catching the rest of Mark S' panel but it hadn't even begun at the time we got back. So we've got lucky and saw his whole panel (which was cut short due the delay of schedule). As usual Mark strolled through the audience and walked right by me

After Mark the next panel were Osric and Sahin and then the Jared solo panel. 🥰 We all had the Thank you sheets which were handed out to us and we held up as soon as Jared entered the stage.

Wow. That was a sight to behold! A sea of white sheets hold up into the air and loud cheering for my tall boi 😍 And to see Jared so moved by it 🥹 The only pic I took at his panel. The rest I just enjoyed fully.

A few minutes before Jared's panel ended, they called our section for his ops. So a bunch of us stood up to leave and Jared joked "Why do you leave? There will be no Jared Padalecki photo ops without me" 😂 When we arrived at the line for his ops there was chaos all around. Two lines way back over the bridge which connected the parts of the hotel and we had to find the right line. The other line was for Jensen, he should've been finished already and have his panel (with the other one, ya know who) but they were way behind the planned schedule. Surprisingly our line went forward pretty fast and then I found myself already in the op room. I watched Jared who just radiated sunshine, focused on every single fan and then it was my turn. As nervous as I was in line when I approached him I felt calm. He turned to me and looked me in the eyes (my brain wanted to shout "oh my God you're so tall and beautiful" but I could rein it in) and said "Hi". I said "Hi Jared can we please do this?" and showed him my reference pic. He smiled and said "of course we can", opened his arms and then I just was in heaven. He felt and smelled so good! 🥰 This time I remembered to close my eyes for the pic and afterwards I thanked him and said bye and he said "You're welcome, bye"

The op

After Jared's op I went back into the panel room to catch the rest of the Jensen/the other one panel but they haven't even started yet bc the schedule was so delayed. So I could enjoy watching Jensen for the whole panel. Afterwards when I was on my way to meet up with Neria (they managed to get a hold of my printed Jared op) I ran into Rowan (@ rowyaboat on Twitter) 🤩. It was just a brief encounter but I've met her ☺️

Then nothing else con related happened. I was totally exhausted and in high pain, so we just grabbed takeout and went back to our hotel.

I spare you the story of the utter chaos on Sunday when we traveled home. Delayed trains stuffed to the brim and drunk and aggressive guys. At least Petra and I made it to Cologne for our ICE with an hour of spare time. We arrived in Munich without further delays and at 9.20 p.m I was finally at home. My body took its revenge, my pain level was so high for another 3 days, but fuck it - IT WAS WORTH IT!

And because I am a crazy gal I've made myself a con shrine. 🙈 And I look at it every day and can't believe that this really happened. It's still unreal (and I don't know when I can afford a con again).

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[waxcloth-din]

Read these in this order if you want your heart ripped out and stitched back up again <3 <3

[making-mcyts-drown]

im putting YOU in the salt shaker.

LET ME OUT OF THIS CAGE IN THIS INSTANT

THIS DRY JAIL CAN'T STOP ME FROM DROWNING YOU

[synonymroll648]

"And she [Sophie] couldn't help noticing how good he [Keefe] smelled—like wind and salt air and something a little citrusy."

hey guys remember when on page 646 of stellarlune shannon confirmed that keefe is a bit fruity (/hj)

[dam-mar]

OUCH.

[maribugette]

Mlbtumblr is either people making really good and deep analyses of the show or saying a bully and abuser deserves a redemption arc just because she also had to deal with a neglectful mom and that her victims should forgive her and help her change.

[frost-felon]

@ my anonymous asker: Your initial ask got eaten by Tumblr, so I'll be posting this as a separate post. You had two asks, so I'll address them both here, which works well, as I started ranting about the femme rep, lmao.

absolutely, like, 100% agree with you on everything you've said about the horrific lack of development with the interpersonal relationships between all the characters in jjk. the unexplained timeskip before the gojo vs sukuna fight made me SO MAD !!!!!!!! seeing it mentioned offhandedly. did such a massive disservice to gojo's character having his reactions to multiple deaths simply written out and missed so many opportunities for a more fulfilling narrative.

in general i feel that the relationships between characters in jjk are so... flimsily written. i have whole essays about how completely unexplored yuji and kenjaku are and how all the characters post-culling-game have suffered in favor of dishing out cool fights with fake-feeling emotional stakes. gege please start writing fights in a meaningful way... more than that please explore character dynamics outside of a purely tactical/background info way... is this the same man who wrote hidden inventory

Second ask:

my god don't even get me started on yorozu. atp the 'gege hates women' jokes can't even be dismissed that lightly I saw tsumiki's reawakening in the last jjk episode and literally said out loud don't piss me off again

Ah, thank you. I've been a bit worried about the in-universe time in JJK. If I'm not mistaken, the story starts at some point in June, and for the Juvenile Detention Center Arc/Super Happy Fun Killing Yuji Time, some point in July. Of course, Shibuya happens on the day/night of October 31st, and likely the wee hours of November 1st. The entirety of the Culling Games Arc takes place in about two weeks of November, as I recall; actually, maybe less, since the very start indicates that Yuji was on the run for a week. So many short timeskips happened early on, and had negative effects on developing characterization and worldbuilding, both of which I've thought were weak since the beginning. Worldbuilding moreso, but characterization issues were especially apparent with the second-years of Tokyo JJH and all of the Kyoto cast. This caused quite a crunch on Culling Games, since so much needed to happen over a short period of time, leading to a jumbled, molasses pace.

It's actually really interesting to me that Sukuna would agree to postpone the fight to nearly the end of December, and this would have given us more time to explore the newer characters and solidify the older ones; we really needed more interactions between Yuji and others that weren't full of misery. Or seeing Gojo adapting to life back outside the Prison Realm, especially given that so much has changed; for a character that values reforming society and raising a self-assured, powerful new generation, losing that society should lead to a re-evaluation of his priorities. Or like...develop Ieri! Hana! Miwa! And kill off Mei Mei or actually address her position within the cast.

Yeah, one of my biggest problems from the get-go was feeling that Megumi & Nobara was a dynamic that had been left to the wayside, even during early Kyoto Goodwill Arc. And those had been characters that were meant to interact regularly...literally what attachment did Higuruma have to anyone that wasn't Yuji?¹ I adore Yuji's relationships, but he's barely been allowed to have any after Shibuya. How is Choso doing, now that the only people (Yuki & Tengen) not related to him are dead or robbed of agency?

Speaking of...hoo boy, Tengen is a hell of a topic to untangle. And most femme characters really don't get to do anything. Nobara is fun, but suffered since day one with a lack of plot presence, and literally being removed from battlefields/character conflicts, lmao. Ieri straight-up doesn't matter, especially as the manga goes on--but even in Hidden Inventory, which I do think is likely the peak of JJK, she has no real impact. You could basically replace her with a medpack, and little would change. Mai gets a very good conflict with Maki, but just about nothing between then and her death. Maki has given up her niche and much of what made her engaging to become...a serial killer on the good side, suspiciously Toji-shaped. I really didn't like Perfect Preparation, and I dread re-reading it.

But "Gege hates women" was less of a joke to me, and more a hyperbolic version of a statement that I do believe in: "Gege shows a clear apathy and disregard for his femme characters." I noticed very early on in my initial read-through (to the end of 145) that many of the femme characters were simply treated differently than much of the male cast, and often given less to do. One time that I was truly disgusted, though, was how Remi (the lady with hair like a scorpion's tail, and a dependent personality) was handled, even before her ultimate fate in Culling Games. So much of that simply rubbed me the wrong way, and felt genuinely offensive, both in regards to women and to dependent personality-type individuals. And what happened to her later...man, those panels gross me the fuck out with how much they sexualize a woman who's about to get trafficked. I definitely have a lot to say on that, but I want to make sure I can actually post this before Tumblr fucks me over again.

As a note, I don't use materials outside of the story to gauge the effectiveness of the writing (and it's also because I'm a Naruto fan, so I know the Hell of databooks, nevermind some of the other art I enjoy), but I may be missing some things. Feel free to continue to make asks or to reach out to me via DMs. I do enjoy discussing JJK, whether it be for things it does well, things it does poorly, or for other reasons.

¹We did get some Higuruma & Kusakabe, but this came in late, and then Higuruma died, lmao.

[bookishlegacy]

Category 7 “popular book has a plot point very similar to a point in a wip so now I feel like I’d be called a copycat if I end up publishing my own work that I came up with on my own but I still want to write it bc it’s important to me” Event

[swordmaid]

think i want to make shri'iia half illithid ... not bc she looks really hot (!!) but i think it's kind of fitting for her since she's very the type to do whatever it takes to win in the end and at that point she already knows how useful the illithid powers are. the thing is, she doesn't like the emperor since she's had enough of people using her but she does appreciate a good deception, even if it's done on her. she does come from menzoberranzan where deceit and manipulation is like, their bread and butter there lol but anyway im kinda thinking of making her half illithid now also i like the dialogue when you try to break up with spawn astarion bc ur turning into something worse and he refuses.

[mazojo]

We all like, agree collectively that Aqua is like, the scummiest person on earth correct?