#also there are technically 2 repeats from the last one but i didn't notice until i was done and i was NOT laying all of this out again lol

[superfallingstars]

so many snapes part 2

part 1

[magpiejay1234]

We already mostly discussed this before, but since we are going over Season 2's structure, it needs to be repeated.

In Season 2, there is 3 breaks, between Episode 84-85, 87-88, and Episode 95-96. I didn't notice the last one, apparently.

Episode 99 (last episode), and Episode 100 (first episode of Season 3) is a two parter, so the last break is somewhat covered, though as we noted, Episode 99 uses OP5, so it is part of the Season 3's production cycle.

Though this Season has more credited writers than Season 1, most of the episodes are written by Tsutomu Kamishiro, main writer of the ARC-V series. The new writers do not do a lot of episodes. Go Zappa, who won't return until VRAINS, is obviously not here, and won't be in Season 3.

****

Now for the actual structure of the Season.

First 14 or so episodes are the set up of this Season, with 4 of them taking place in Standard, and rest of 10 episodes taking place in Synchro. There is about 2 episodes with Yugo, 4 episodes with main cast, and 4 episodes in the Facility.

After this, rest of the Season is mostly Friendship Cup, and associated conflicts.

Friendship Cup's structure is basic:

Top 16 has 8 main cast vs. 8 Synchro Dimension characters.

Top 8 has 4 main cast vs. 4 Synchro Dimension characters.

Top 4 has Yuya vs. 3 Synchro Dimension characters.

Top 2, which is also the finale, is Jack vs. Yuya.

With Yuya defeating Jack, and attaining the Duel King title, rest of the conflicts will now become quaint compared to this, since Yuya's power level is much, much higher most of the cast, comparable to early WRGP Yusei. Only Kaito, and Yuri will provide a serious challange to Yuya power level wise, so most of the conflicts going forward will be more personal, since we cannot push Yuya more physically now. In Yuri's case, he will only become a serious threat after absorbing Yugo, though. Leo won't be a serious Duel, since he won't be alone in that match up.

In terms of card promotion, the situation is more abysmal. All of the main set cover cards except Raging Dragon, and Z-ARC have already appeared, though we do not yet know Starving Venom's effects. Outside of Ciphers, Windwitches, Lyriluscs, Leo's Deck, and Z-ARC's Deck, there won't be any major new theme introduced, since we already got the glimpse of Predaplants. This was somewhat inevitable, since Fusion Dimension takes from GX, which was all about next generation updates of old themes, and promoting existing themes from OCG rather than introducing new ones, but you can guess how interested Katsumi Ono is about this.

As we discussed before, it is pretty obvious that Katsumi Ono he would somehow get a 4 year series like GX, since this series was the series for GX's 10th anniversary (outside of also being 15th anniversary of the card game, 15th anniversary of the Studio Gallop animé series, 20th anniversary of the franchise etc.), so there was never a plan to cut down Synchro arc to make room for Xyz arc. If the breaks in Season 2 didn't happen, we would probably get the Yuya vs. Yugo deal instead, not an earlier intro to the Xyz arc.

Another issue is also the legacy characters. Synchro arc technically has most legacy characters, though only 2 of them are major Duelists in ARC-V, rest are cameos, some voiced, some not. Though most of the early 5D's cast were designed by Kazuki Takahashi, since Katsumi Ono was the director (though again, only really involved in Fortune Cup-Dark Signer arcs, which are the ones referenced most in here), getting 5D's characters were probably the easiest route, as long as higher ups, and VAs themselves played ball. Getting ZEXAL characters, or GX characters will prove more difficult.

These structural issues aside, this Season was fun. Rest of ARC-V won't be.

For the main cast themselves, Dennis, and Serena, Sora, and Yuzu's replacements, are re-replaced by them by the end of the Season, so only net gains are Tsukikage, and Reira, who have a lot of character development here. Crow, and Jack also count as recruits from Synchro Dimension. Yugo obviously doesn't join with main cast, stuck as the deuteragonist, and Reiji will take a more on-hands in the later part of Fusion arc.

[preciouspeterbparker]

i wish i were

inspired by conan gray’s “heather”

warnings: stepsibling incest (not yet but that’s the whole premise), underage masturbation, underage sex, angst. peter’s like 16 and a half, Tony’s almost 18

word count: 2.2k

summary: peter’s in love with his big brother. no biggie. (spoiler alert: it’s a big deal)

(A/N: okay this has been living in my head rent free for over a month. i've written more, but it's not fully fleshed out yet. 

i figured i would post this and see if anyone is interested in reading it before i put a bunch more effort in lmao. this is filth. most of the angst comes later lololol (and more filth).

i hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think / if you'd like to read more!

- bloo)

PART ONE

Peter stands at his locker, desperately trying to blend in and remain unseen as he switches out his English textbook for Physics. The school year is basically over, given that it’s the last week of May but he’s still not comfortable in the junior-senior hallway. He’s always been the youngest (and therefore smallest) kid in most of his classes, given that he’s been in the ‘gifted & talented’ track since middle school. (He’s on track to graduate next year, taking his last few mandatory classes and completing an internship for additional credit.) This year, Peter feels even smaller than usual; maybe because most of the seniors are already eighteen, while as a sophomore, he isn’t even seventeen. He doesn’t have many friends this year, because of it. Ned moved away last summer because his dad got a new job, and, well, he’d never really needed more than Ned before. 

“Hey Pete-squeak,” comes a voice from behind, making him jump. Rolling his eyes, Peter pivots slightly to face the newcomer. The infestation of butterflies that he's been harboring for the past few months begins to flutter immediately, tickling the walls of his stomach as his cheeks flush lightly.

The voice belongs to a tall (or, well, taller than Peter, anyway), ridiculously handsome boy with dark hair and dark eyes, walking towards Peter with his hands in his pockets. The cheeky smirk on his face is all but permanent, but the small, genuine smile it slips into is something that Peter holds close to his chest, something that is typically reserved for him.  

Tony, his older brother, is pretty much Peter's favorite person in the world. Technically, he’s Peter’s step brother. Maria, his mom, and Peter’s dad Richard got married when Peter was a year old and Tony was almost three. They’d essentially spent their whole lives together; neither of them could really remember anything before. They’ve always been close, but that’s changed a little bit this year.

“Hey Tony,” Peter chirps, reaching back into his locker to grab his physics binder. He tries to act natural, even though he feels anything but. His heart’s going a mile a minute inside his rib cage. He feels a little ridiculous, he has for the past few months. Swallowing, he manages to sound relatively calm. “You read the last 2 chapters of Beowulf, right? Mrs. Herrera gave us a pop quiz last period.” 

The older teen groans. Closing his eyes, he throws his head back, a metallic thunk sounding as it collides with the locker he’s leaning back on. “Fucking hell. The final paper is due in like four fucking days! Is that not enough?” It’s quiet for a moment as Tony pauses before he opens one eye, cutting it to look at Peter. “What were the answers?” 

Peter snorts in response, shutting his locker. “Not happening, T.”  He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time and lets the left side of his body rest against the cool metal. Three minutes til the bell rings, and Mr. Riley’s class is right across the hall. So he’s essentially got three minutes to indulge himself and the fuzzy warmth that’s running through his veins. He loves any time he gets to spend with Tony. “You’re lucky I told you at all, be grateful.” 

Tony wrinkles his nose at him. “Rude,” he scoffs in mock offense. “I know you can remember them,” comes his teasing accusation. (And he’s right. Peter can recall the entirety of the quiz, but he’s still not going to enable Tony.) Then he pauses and raises an eyebrow at his younger brother. “Is that my sweatshirt?” The garment in question is a worn and slightly faded black Led Zeppelin USA 1977 crewneck sweatshirt. Peter’s wearing it over a charcoal and white check button-up. The sweatshirt is one of Tony’s favorite pieces of clothing, he wears it all the time (hence why Peter...borrowed it...without asking).

Having mentally prepared himself to be questioned at some point, Peter’s reply is already on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah, it ended up in my laundry and once I put it on it was too cozy to take off. And it looks good with these jeans and the button-up. And my boots. Trying out a new look,” he finishes, smiling as he pushes his glasses further up his nose. Tony often teased him about the thick, clear-but-slightly-pink frames, but Peter hadn’t wanted glasses at all (he doesn’t need any more reasons to be teased, thank you), but he likes these. They make him look cute, more feminine. More like someone Tony could want. 

“You’re right,” Tony smiles. One of his hands comes up to playfully ruffle at Peter’s russet hair. “Looks great on you, kid.” There’s warm affection in his voice. 

Peter feels his cheeks go hot again, and he wills the flush to go away. He can’t take compliments from Tony, now- they make him ache and preen simultaneously. He knows that Tony doesn’t mean it the way he wants. Peter knows that Tony would never speak to him again if he knew what was really going on inside his little brother’s head. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. 

Speaking of stomachs. “Hey,” he starts as he fingers through the papers in his physics binder, attempting to find the problem set that’s due today. “Did you ever catch up on Hell’s Kitchen? I’ve been rewatching episodes trying to wait for you, but you’re taking too long. You saw the episode where Gordon-” Peter’s heart falls to his stomach and he abruptly stops speaking when he looks up to notice that Tony isn’t looking at him anymore, barely seems to be listening. 

It falls completely out of his ass when he sees just what, just who, has stolen his attention. 

“Sorry, Pete, gotta go,” Tony mutters once he realizes that Peter’s stopped talking, shooting him a hasty smile and shoving off the navy metal. He skirts past Peter, a slight skip in his step as he makes his way down the hallway. 

Peter's swallows and clenches his jaw as he watches his brother walk straight to her, the bane of his existence. The reason he and Tony don’t spend as much time together anymore. The object of Tony’s affections. Pepper. She's...everything Peter wishes he could be, honestly. Tall, somehow a perfect mix of skinny & curvy, bright blue eyes, long strawberry-blonde hair. She's perfect. And not only in looks; she's also ridiculously smart. If Tony wasn’t valedictorian, she surely would be. She even volunteers at the local soup kitchen every weekend, and Peter’s pretty sure she reads to dogs at the animal shelter once a month. He hates that Pepper is so nice; he hates that he can't hate her without hating himself for it. 

As if he didn't have enough self-loathing already.

***

Peter exits the bathroom that connects his bedroom with Tony’s after gently flicking the lock on his brother’s door to disengage it, the soft ‘snick’ ridiculously loud in the quiet of the house. He’s the only one home; Mom and Dad are at some sort of event for Dad’s law firm, and Tony went to a party at Rhodey’s house. (Tony had insisted that Peter was invited, but he had to know that the younger would never go- why would he want to be surrounded by drunk, horny, belligerent teenagers? The last thing he wanted to see was Tony and- )

There’s a dark gray towel loosely wrapped around his waist, so loose he has to clutch it in his hand to keep it from falling. He closes his own bathroom door behind him and drops the towel, digging through his underwear drawer to pull out a random pair of plaid boxers. 

After sliding them on, the brunette takes a deep breath and lays back against the pillows, arms behind his head. He tries to consciously relax his muscles, the tension of the day not having melted away during his shower like he had hoped. Time for Plan B. It’s never let him down before. Peter reaches for his phone and unlocks it before swiping through his apps to open Spotify. The sound of “Dazed and Confused” fills the air through his speakers, and he sets it to repeat on a loop. It’s a little fucked up, the way he’s conditioned himself to respond to this song, but- Peter knows the whole thing is fucked up; he’s fucked up. 

Closing his eyes, he does the only thing he’s been capable of for months: he thinks of his older brother. 

He’s growing fond of the new facial hair Tony’s trying out; he wonders how it would feel against his skin. Which areas would be the most sensitive to its touch? His thighs? His neck? Peter’s head tilts back and to the side as he imagines wet, warm lips and the scratch of stubble. Just the thought, the phantom sensation, makes a soft mewl leave his mouth. It’s a little ridiculous how easy he can get himself going, when he thinks of Tony’s touch, of his body. Of his love. In his boxers, his cock shifts against his thigh as it begins to fill out. 

The sensual, plucky bassline and wailing guitars of the song drag along, and so does Peter’s breathing as he brings a hand up to pinch at one of his nipples. He imagines the way Tony would tease him until he was whining, begging for release. He supposes it wouldn’t be dissimilar to his older brother’s typical manner of playfully taunting him. Maybe Tony would pin him down like he did when they were younger, climb on top of him and hold him there with the muscles he’s gained from boxing in the garage. The opportunities he’s had to see the older teen breathing heavy, shirtless and glistening with sweat, would be forever ingrained in his mind. The mental image sends more blood rushing south and his dick throbs as it quickly reaches full hardness, drawing a gasp from his mouth. 

Peter takes himself in hand, studying the details of his cock. He knows he’s not huge, but he’s at least on the larger side of average. It’s flushed a deep, mauve-y pink, and he traces the line of a vein on the side with the tip of his pinkie. A shiver shoots down his spine. He wonders how similar it is to Tony’s. Is he circumcised like Peter is? Is he bigger? Longer, thicker even? Sure, he’s seen him naked before, when they were younger changing or in the bath, but that stopped around the time Tony was seven or eight. 

(Tony and Peter had come home from school one day, and Peter’s head had been reeling over what he heard some older girls saying on the bus. He’d decided to ask Tony about it. His big brother knew everything. ...Mom & Dad caught them kissing in their bedroom. That was the end of bathing together, and Tony got his own room, too. Peter never forgot about the way his big brother’s lips felt against his own.) 

A bead of precum oozes out of his tip and Peter rubs his thumb over it, smearing the liquid over his cockhead. Robert Plant’s voice moans over the speaker and Peter echoes the sound as he slowly strokes himself with a loose grip, his hole tightening around nothing. Biting his lip, he hesitates before slipping his left pointer finger into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it sloppily. Once it’s wet, he reaches down and gently presses the pad of his finger against the tightly furled muscle between his cheeks. His breath hitches as the sensation; he’s only touched himself down here a couple of times before. 

The tip of his finger begins to breach his opening and a whine leaves Peter’s mouth. It stings a bit so he tries to relax, muscles fluttering, making a mental note to grab some lube next time he goes to the drugstore. He wants to be able to stretch himself out more, to imagine Tony’s fingers, Tony’s cock, splitting him open and stuffing him full. Fuck-

Tightening his grip on the base of his cock, Peter grits his teeth and grunts softly as he pulls his finger from his ass. He can’t cum yet- he’s not done. He reaches under his pillow, pulling out the balled-up t-shirt that’s taken up residence there. The black fabric has faded in some spots, and the Black Sabbath logo is cracked and worn; it’s one of Tony’s favorite shirts. Peter brings the soft cloth up to his nose, fumbling with it to find the area with the strongest smell. There are hints of Tony’s Old Spice deodorant mixed with a scent that’s distinctly Tony, a warm, masculine musk that has saliva pooling in Peter’s mouth. Delirious, fucking his hand to the beat, he wishes he had dug a little further in the hamper, pulled out a pair of Tony’s briefs. 

That’s the thought that does him in. Peter cums into his fist, gasping his brother’s name, the sound getting muddled in the maelstrom of guitar and drums. Thick ropes of jizz splatter on his stomach and chest, entire abdomen heaving with his breaths. 

He wipes the mess up with Tony’s t-shirt before tucking the fabric back under his pillow for safe keeping.

to be continued???

[softtransbf]

Do I know how to write endings or really anything that isn't dialogue? No. Have I been able to think about anything other than this concept for the last 24 hours? Also no.

So yeah, here's an 1100 word Quint/Seo-woo ficlet, T for light swearing.

idk i just needed to get it out of my head and into the universe lol

-------

"And the Grammy goes to... Kang Seo-woo!" The crowd erupted into applause as the singer made his way onto the stage, quieting as he spoke.

"Just being nominated was such an honor, I can't believe this is real. None of it would mean anything without my amazing boyfriend by my side every step of the way. Quint, I love you!" He paused for the briefest of seconds and all but ran off the stage. The applause resumed, more hesitant and confused than before. Not that Seo-woo noticed a single thing beyond the adrenaline of the win and the repeating thought of oh shit what did I just say?

"Quint, I love you!" It was just after midnight, and the words were still echoing in my head. I checked my phone again; still nothing. I could text him. I should text him. The ceremony's been over for almost 2 hours. But what the hell do I say? Congratulate him on the win and pretend like he didn't just come out and say those three damn words for the first time? I certainly can't just text them back...

The doorbell rang, followed shortly by a text notification.

If I know you at all, you're still awake. Please, come to the door, songbird.

Our relationship has been many difficult and uncomfortable things. It's not easy for a homebody with an anxiety disorder and a closeted global superstar to be in a relationship. But it had never been awkward. Not until that moment, standing in my doorway in the middle of the night.

"Hey."

"Hey. Congrats on the win, you totally deserved it."

"Oh, uh, thanks, I really didn't think I was gonna get it." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down.

"Please, come in, it's cold out." He's been here so many times, what the fuck was that?

I stepped back and led him to the couch. We sat, half facing each other, knees not quite touching. The silence was deafening, but I couldn't think of a single thing to say. Especially since he wouldn't look at me.

A minute or so later, he started talking. "So, um. I said some things. I didn't mean to say them, but I did, and they're things I can't take back. Not that I'd want to, that implies I didn't mean them. Shit, I can't say anything right tonight." I took his hands, which had been fidgeting restlessly since the moment he sat down, and he finally looked up.

"Hey hey hey, take a breath. It's okay. I know what you meant. You knew I'd be up, I know how your mouth gets ahead of your brain sometimes. Let's start with the less weighty part of this, yeah?"

"W- which part is that?"

"You just took a pretty big step out of the closet. How are you feeling about that?" His shoulders visibly relaxed, and he smiled slightly, that half-smile that never fails to make my heart melt.

"Pretty good, actually. You know I've been wanting to for a long time, and it feels good to have that weight off my shoulders. And so far, according to my manager, the response has been overall positive."

"That's fantastic! You know damn well I'm gonna be full on keyboard warrior starting tomorrow against anyone talking shit." I nudged his knees with mine, and he laughed.

"I'd expect nothing else from my number one fan." He leaned forward and ruffled my hair, and we both laughed harder.

"Wait am I technically a sasaeng? I know where you are all the time and know more than any fan should."

He scooted closer, put his arm around my shoulders, and kissed the top of my head. "Given how much time I've spent trying to convince you to come to more of my shows, you definitely aren't stalking me, and there's nothing to know about me that I'm not happy to tell you. You are most definitely not a sasaeng."

"Okay, I feel better." I laughed, and silence fell again. Not as heavy as before, but still very loaded.

"You broke the silence last time, guess it's my turn. I don't... first thing is, was it a heat of the moment thing, or a Thing thing? I know it wasn't a planned thing, but like. Hyperbolic, I guess? There's not a wrong answer, to be clear. I just want to know where you're coming from on that before I say anything else."

I felt, rather than heard or saw, him take a deep breath. He let me go, took my hands, and looked me in the eye. "It's not how I was going to tell you, but yeah, I meant it. I love you. You don't have to say it back, of course. I just... you should know that I mean it. It's not gonna be easy, with my schedule and all, but I will always be there and fight for you and us, whatever happens."

"That's good to hear, because once your fans learn that I love you, too, it's gonna get ugly."

"Hey, I'm sure it won't be that ba-" The smile that grew across his face when the full weight of my words set in was nothing short of the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It only lasted for a moment, though, before he took my face in his hands and kissed me.

Eventually, I pulled away. "Not how you were going to tell me? Implying that you did, in fact, have a plan?" The joke was undercut by my breathlessness, but he blushed and looked down anyway.

"Yeah, um. You know how I'm going into the studio later this week to record the last track for my next album?"

"The mysterious title track you refuse to play for me, unlike every other song you've written since we met?"

"That's the one. I didn't want you to hear it until it was finished and perfect, and then, well... I had a plan. Dinner, roses, the whole nine yards."

I scooted back a little bit and ran my hand through my hair. "Kang Seo-woo. You're telling me right now that the first song the world is going to hear on the follow up to an album that literally won a Grammy a few hours ago is one you wrote just to tell me you love me? You sappy, over the top, dramatic fucking musician. I love you so much."

"Songbird, you're sending very mixed signals. Are you saying that it was a good plan, or...?"

"Let me put it this way. Tell your manger to cancel anything that was on your calendar. It's gonna be at least 24 hours before either of us leaves this house."

[ruwithmeguys]

What are overalll thoughts on Dinah from the past 2 episodes, 11+12? I still don't see why ppl are freaking out on a potential O/D? I think the writers are trying to set up a GA/BC partnership that lacked from the LL version of the BC. I thought it was interesting that felicity didn't trust her yet and called Dinah an unknown quantity. Still burned from Evelyn. So dinah now has to earn Felicity's trust and respect that was freely given to LL. Another strike against LL and her integration into TA

Sorry this took so long toanswer Anon – I’ve had a brutal shift change at work that no matter how hard Itry I can’t seem to get used to! I really wanted to have this posted BEFOREepisode 14 but oh well…

Here’s the low down: I neveronce thought they were bringing in a new BC as a way to redo the GA/BC romance.Not once. Technically it’s been done twice in the show and neither time endedwell. They’ve learned their lesson. Before I get into this (LIKE I DO WITHEVERY ASK) I just want to add something I’ve never had the chance to before.

The BC/GA romance in thecomics suited the comics. It was likeable. I’ve read some of it and have noproblem with saying that. But sometimes transferring from comic to screen hasthe opposite affect to what was intended. It didn’t help that KC’scharacterisation of LL was beyond hard-core judgemental and bitter in season 1- it was understandable why but she didn’t allow (plus her and SA’s chemistrywasn’t close to what was wanted) for much softness and when she DID she took itback with a vehemence and confusing twist to logic that left many a fan reeling- nor did it help that she wasn’t believable when the time came to arise as theBC. It also didn’t help that, as part of her contract, her character was madeto be unaccountably and unbelievably self-entitled and contradictory (I amreferring to the way she  did a 180before she died and the way they couldn’t kill her off or make her leave BEFOREshe became the BC). OR that, thanks to KC’s, her agent’s and the writers/producersinput, her character was reduced to two things in her time as LL & BC: anadrenaline junkie (an addict) and someone who couldn’t let go of the past, i.e.her and Ollie and her and Sara.

Way to reduce the heroicfigure of the comic version of BC.

But what do I mean by that?

‘Ollie’ was the love of LL’slife and she held that torch until she died (btw was actually painful to watchher say those words to Oliver only to have him keep silent; he NEVER SAID AWORD BACK- he couldn’t even give her a lukewarm ‘love ya too’ because itwouldn’t have been true). EVEN though we all know, because Stephen Amell confessedto it and because Oliver said on screen (plus he never told her he loved hertoo) that she wasn’t the love of his, she still kept to her season 1foundation. This lack of change, of progression, got her killed. That, in part,was KC’s accountability for never letting go of her season 1 moniker (mainfemale LI and character/budding hero) and the writers (or whoever’s job it wasto promote characters) error for never bringing her character forwards with therest of cast.

Even LL/KC knew in the endthat she had to go.

In many ways, her loyal fansseem to see the attention she’s gotten this season as tribute to her. Buthonestly, they should see it as more insulting than anything else. LL isreceiving more love and respect NOW – dead – then she ever did in life. She wasonly granted the Ollie/LL closure she should have had in season 2 in season 5after death and it was a literal rendition of ‘we would have never workedLaurel ; what we had died years ago’.

What the hell? Smack to theface.

Her (ugly ass) statue wasdestroyed by her doppelganger of all people, like they were saying it was timeto move on.

And notice how everyone canonly repeat how brilliant she was but can never give examples as to why theythink that?

Notice how LL/BC didn’t have anemesis. Not in 4 seasons did the writers ever grant her a bad guy of her ownwhich is the hallmark for hero’s on a TV show; if you get either a loveinterest or a storyline set apart from the other characters involving a battleyou fight and prevail through, it means you’ve made it as the female lead.

LL’s character failed inrepresenting the comic book BC many love.

Then along came Sara. CaityLotz man, she stole it.

In season 2 there’s a line LLsays to Sara and it FITS: “You stole my life.”

In a way she did.

It’s Sara who get’s Ollie/GA.It’s Sara who is the preferable BC. It’s Sara who gets her own TV show. ItsSara everyone wants back. It’s Sara who is able to progress, to have loveinterests and storylines. She was awesome.

Except… she didn’t work out onthe show either.

She was good in small doseswhich isn’t what we want in the female lead and for BC mantle. Her brand ofheroism didn’t fit with the show.

To a fashion, she temporarilyworked with Ollie/GA. But they couldn’t make it last: their romance was basedon the connection of their darker selves (believing no one else wouldunderstand or accept them) and, at times, lacklustre. There was no reason – notanywhere – for them to progress and the idea of that happening felt flat-outweird because the only reason why they started was because of their pasts.

And just like the LL & OQromance, they nipped Sara and Ollie in the butt. It had nowhere to go.

According to Stephen and MarcG, both of the above romances where based on the past, something that isconfirmed for the last time (because some fans won’t let it go either) inseason 5 when Oliver tells the Laurel hallucination that he could never loveher the way she wanted – that they would have never worked – because he was nolonger the man who she fell in love with. He died in the ocean.

Sara’s Ollie died in theocean.

Laurel had always been waitingfor him to come back, even after she donned the mask.

And notice that everyone whohas ever called Oliver ‘Ollie’ has died.

(Thea is exempt)

In Arrow, the past has to die.

I know Sara came back butaccording to the directors, she was missed so much they HAD to bring her back.Not LL, Sara.

Now, in its dullest terms it’s‘fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me’

No way are they going to makethat mistake again.

There’s another aspect to theGA/BC comic canon that doesn’t represent well.

On-screen, this pairing – theGA/BC part not the OQ/LL/DD part - are obnoxious. And by that I mean, they’reconstantly in competition with each other.

Like too much will andconviction onscreen at once; both figures fight for supremacy and it becomes abattle of wills that’s exhausting and often confusing to watch. It’s the Arrowshow not the BC and Arrow show.

Even when they weren’ttogether, LL and OQ fought constantly on opinions, on the reasons why they dowhat they do and how they eventually do them. She fought with him on how hedealt with Felicity being shot for God sakes. ‘How dare you be emotional when Ibrought my sister back and let her loose on the city and and and…’

SO did Ollie and Sara: onlywhen they split up this petered off and it turned into a friendship.

It seems with this new BC,Dinah, they’ve taken on board everything that didn’t work in the past and cutit out.

First, her backstory is -though redone/familiar - plausible.

Second, she – the actress andcharacterization - more believable.

Third, her relationship withOliver is exactly how it should have always been: she’s a team mate. Evenbetter, she’s learning from him. Not competing.

LL, even Sara to a degree,could not stand up to Oliver on the basis of experience. I know Sara was in theleague but learning how to be a professional assassin is a very different setof experiences and skills to the daily hell of discovering the monster withinthat Oliver had to face – alone - on his nomadic journey.

Notice how her first year onthe Amazo was spent being in the care of Dr Ivo?

Notice how his first year wasspent battling to survive with everyone trying to hurt him?

Notice how, when Sara wasbrought into the League, she had Nyssa the ENTIRE time to have some sembalncepeace in.

Notice how Oliver justcontinued to loose and infect the people around him with his growing darkness.

Notice how, when he was giventhe choice, he didn’t return home whilst she was never given one?

These are just a few examplesof their differences and I am not undermining the horrors Sara faced.

Those five years for Oliverweren’t one long lesson in being an assassin; it was filled with terrorism,violence, gang warfare, biochemical warfare, murder, vigilantism,sort-of-espionage, spying, missions and magic. And they weren’t five yearsspent building a grudge like with LL.

You can’t compare to thatexperience.

And LL tried to all the time.

Sara did when she was datinghim.

Both were repetitive and bothbecame irritating fast.

This new BC, listens. Learns.Watches. AND she’s totally badass on her own. She’s a female Oliver Queen andone day she’ll step out of his shadow and become her own hero. And when shedoes, FULLY, she’ll leave the team. They may team up in the future buteventually she’ll want to do things HER way and she’ll know not to rock theboat.

It’s so refreshing bringingher in because not only is she believable, not only do they give her courtesyof grieving the man she loved, not only is she physically capable, not onlydoes she fit in with the team, not only does she not fill the screen with pointlessmoments, not only does she not compete… she and Oliver have zero romanticchemistry.

A BC being placed on theromantic chemistry pedestal with GA on the Arrow TV show is like a deathsentence for the character, despite the actress. LITERALLY.

At the moment she’s getting toknow the team and Felicity recently gave her a mask which, as we all know, isArrow’s way of saying ‘okay, NOW you’re in business’. She’s been given thegreen light.

I think she’s also there tobalance the scales: Thea’s gone and so is LL/SL. SO is Evelyn. They needed awoman in there stat who could hold her own.

Like you said, not everythinghas to be about romance. A lot of people have decided that EVERY new femalecharacter on Arrow this year will be a love interest. It’s been super tiring towade through that kind of angst and I’m pretty sure it hasn’t made the watchingof it more enjoyable.

Stephen Amell doesn’t dobelievable romances with most actresses on Arrow anyway, other than Felicity.

And I believed in him andHELENA, more than I believed in him and Sara. Laurel.

The spiral needed to changeand change it did. They’ve made this new BC, this redo of BC/LL, a story onsecond chances and redemption. Oliver can give her the time and patience hewouldn’t give Laurel (and for that he’ll always feel guilt). But with this, hecan learn to let that go.

And hopefully, season 6 won’tbe a constant worship of a dead woman when, in life, no one really cared whathappened to her.

But I believe this new BC hasalready generated her own fans. Good luck to her.

(PS – with Stephen’s interviewthis week NONE of the above was necessary and I’m laughing)

[definitelynotfrankincense]

PSO2 - Kinktober 2016 Prompts (Chroto x Aurum) [NSFW]

Yes, I'm posting 2016's prompts in 2017. I wrote them last year, and I meant to post them a couple months afterward in one big post like this, but I just kept wussing out. Also I had two lists of prompts to work off, so there'll be more numbers... ...And also some of them went to Sherri instead. And some got shared, as the "(Either)" tag indicates.

Anyway. Not all of these actually have sex even alluded to in them because I'm a huge pansy. Yeah leave it to me to participate in KINKtober and end up with a few prompts that are only fluff.

2-1 - Noisy

Aurum had always been a quiet person. Chroto didn't know how he'd been in his youth, but if he had to guess, he'd still been just as nervous and soft-spoken back then. He didn't even offer much in the way of verbal reactions; he made no sound on the battlefield, from quiet breaths to swallowed pain.

So he was surprised when the first caress of their tongues together earned him a breathless whine and hands clutching his shoulders as his knees gave out. The first time his hands traveled beneath his clothes, the sharp gasp and uneven breaths next to his ear sent shivers down his spine. The first time they joined, he was rewarded with cries and moans that he restrained Aurum's wrists to hear in full.

Aurum's honesty would break through the embarrassment; begging in earnest for all he wanted as his voice cracked at the notes he was hitting on the way to his climax.

And stars, did he live to hear it.

2-2 - Dirty Talk (Either)

He'd never given much thought to his own voice before; whatever came out was whatever took the least amount of effort to create without needing to repeat himself.

But apparently his voice did things to some people.

Combine that with a passive enjoyment for teasing, and, well...

"You've had that look on all day. Did you think I wouldn't notice you undressing me with your eyes? I'd be more surprised if the people around you didn't notice you fidgeting, trying to keep those daydreams under control. What was it this time? You seemed awfully fixated on my neck. I know you've wanted at this from the start. To leave your mark here. If you're good tonight, I might just let you. How does that sound?"

If he sounded anywhere near as good as the replying moan did, he could totally understand it.

4-1 - Food Play [*1]

Who the hell taught him how to eat?

The way he left the pretzel stick dangling from his mouth as he read over a news article just couldn't be forgiven.

So he approached from behind, taking the snack in one hand while the other trailed along his shoulder and down his chest. The surprised sound shifted into confusion as he slowly worked the pretzel further into his mouth, scraping against his cheek and tongue along the gentle in-and-out.

4-2 - Bukkake

As appealing as the idea was beforehand, there was always a niggling guilt in the back of his head each time he finished— well, anywhere, really; now the mess wasn't only his own problem to deal with. But it was the worst when he'd look down to see Aurum panting as it dripped down over a closed eyelid and right over the corner of his open mouth.

He looked so debauched, so used, and that's what always had him thinking it was a bad idea after all.

But the expression he was always answered with, no matter when and no matter where, invited as many repeat performances as he was willing and able to give until by the end of the night, the only option was a full shower and new sheets.

5-1 - Sadism

He'd never thought himself to be sadistic; thus he'd been appalled at himself the first time he felt the urge to make Aurum cry.

He still doesn't think it really applies to himself, but is rather a unique trait of their particular relationship.

As long as Aurum doesn't want him to stop, it's become all too erotic when the tears are falling one after another.

However, he's still torn between feeling pride or disgust with himself when his fingers roughly trace a new bruise he's given Aurum. Even as the crying voice hitches into moans or words of gratitude, he's not sure how he wants to feel.

6-1 - Hidden

There's something romantic and just plain exciting about sneaking kisses and touches behind peoples' backs.

Their first time visiting Aurum's parents had nearly reduced him to tears (the bad kind) multiple times. He had found a good distraction in laying him down on the couch and reminding him (his hands, his lips, his neck) that he was loved while the two former caregivers conversed just around the corner.

9-1 - Bondage

He never brought it up.

Aurum seemed to both enjoy and fiercely dislike being restrained. When at his worst, keeping him from thrashing away seemed to be the only thing that could calm him down. On the other end, he would work himself into a panic if he couldn't move how he wanted to.

So he never brought it up.

It just kind of... happened.

It started after a rough day when he didn't want to bother with the so rarely bold hands roaming over him. He'd pinned Aurum's wrists beside his head, and although he instinctively tried to break free from it a few times to grasp at something— anything —he hadn't been met with any resistance.

Call him tame, but he couldn't really work up the effort to do more than tie his wrists together. He couldn't be doing all the work, after all.

9-2 - Asphyxiation

He'd only stroked a little too hard over Aurum's throat; caused a panicked gasp and a hand to grab at his wrist, but not pull it off.

Even if Aurum hadn't told him that any more than a light pressure to make him work to breathe would have him scared out of his mind, he doesn't think he could bring himself to do more anyway. Even with the level of control he always had, no matter how observant he trusted himself to be, he didn't have the confidence that he'd know when to stop.

12-1 - Jealousy

Aurum's face was always carefully trained in a passive expression. Anyone who didn't know better would think he was just perpetually bored or annoyed.

Chroto knew better. He'd come to recognize when he was feeling stressed (he could actually see him breathing), uncomfortable (his point of focus would shift lower), happy (his eyes didn't look dead), longing (he couldn't seem to focus his eyes on anything), aroused (he seemed all too focused on absolutely nothing), among other things.

Such as jealousy.

And Aurum got jealous. A lot. Over nothing.

But Aurum himself knew it was unreasonable and tried his hardest to stomp the feelings down. He wouldn't grow resentful or angry; instead retreating inward and trying not to listen to the feelings of inadequacy.

It was easy enough to remedy. Chroto had stopped verbally addressing it after the fifth time when he'd already said all he could. It seemed to work out better that way anyway. Where words would just make them both feel frustrated at the repetition of it all, a smile and a hand on his shoulder for just a moment longer solved it instantly.

Jealous sex was a coin toss he wasn't willing to risk, either. One side had Aurum more aggressive, taking the lead and leaving as many marks as he pleased; the other had him as a lifeless doll that felt it was all he was good for. It had to end with or cut off to holding and caressing until it was clear on what level he appreciated their time.

13-1 - Scars

ARKS armor was pretty amazing in all regards. Despite the amount of coverage, it seemed to protect the entire body equally. Nobody who used it was quite sure how that worked, especially considering it didn't even partially resemble the records of line shield technology. Still, it did its job wonderfully and combined with the TECHNICs and medicines ARKS ops had special access to, hardly anyone had scars to show for their struggles.

It was civilians who had the most scars. Civilians who made enemies of their own people and had no armor.

Running his fingers over the faint scars on Aurum's upper arm (too haphazard to be self-inflicted), he wonders what each fight was about.

"I probably deserved it," Aurum had muttered the first time the subject came up. "I don't remember what I said, but you know me; I don't think before I speak. I might have said something honestly awful."

And Chroto does know him. He has almost no filter. He rarely means anything to come out as rude as it sounds, and he only recently started trying again (the children (among others) never listened; beat the kindness right out of him) to backpedal and explain himself more gently when it happened.

But words aren't enough to justify laying your hands on anyone. No matter what Aurum might have said to anger his peers back in those days, he didn't deserve these scars.

But they're part of him now. A part of him that he's slowly trying to heal.

13-2 - Medical play

Aurum 'retired' early from ARKS when he realized he wasn't doing nearly as much to help people as he wanted. It was a dangerous job he clearly wasn't cut out for if the number of failures on his record was anything to go by. It was just causing unnecessary worry for both of them.

So he quit and went back to school with what he'd saved up from his time as an operative.

Being a nurse might have been more monotonous most of the time, but he found it more fulfilling than slaughtering countless native creatures whose d-arker infection usually didn't see them hostile until ARKS poked their heads in.

(Usually. There were very few documented cases of them actually tearing each-other apart, but those were the ones the media and government clung to to justify their violent meddling.)

He worked at the ARKS medical bay, letting them continue living under the same roof. Unlike civilian hospitals, he didn't have a locker for his uniform at work. The uniform itself was ARKS-issue and thus was technically armor. All staff in the military district from desk jockeys to janitors had to be ready and able to join the frontlines in emergencies, so being unarmored just wasn't an option.

So he put it on at the start of the day and returned home still wearing it.

But men weren't exactly common on medical staff. In fact, he was the first they'd employed on their ship in decades, and thus had to make due with the women's dress and a pair of trousers until they could order something more fitting for him. After modifying the hem to make it into more of a long shirt, it looked good enough to keep as backup anyway.

The reaction Aurum expected when he showed off his uniform the first time was just a nod, a smile, maybe an 'I'm proud of you,' and he'd be on his way trying not to grin like a fool. And he did receive it exactly right before heading off for his first day at work.

Then he came home to hands on his waist and lips on his neck, being asked to look at a 'sudden mysterious ache' that he couldn't help but snort a laugh at.

Neither of them could take it seriously, but it had been fun.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how much does it hurt?"

"About an 8, but it's gettin' harder... to bear."

"snrrk... I'll have to... administer a massage... hahah... to reduce the swelling..."

"Hahahah... Nah, I can't keep this up. But that uniform is seriously a turn-on."

"Well, it needs washed anyway... No harm in getting it dirty."

14-2 - Sensory Deprivation

Aurum didn't like not being able to see.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Chroto. There was something that just felt wrong about taking away one of the senses. His ability to see and hear were the proof of who he was with. Even if all he could see was the room in front of him, just seeing it jostled back and forth in his vision added to the whole experience.

But it seemed Chroto really liked to cover his eyes. He had only used one hand to cover his eyes until now.

He holds a blindfold out to him with a questioning grin. Aurum nods even though he wants to say no. It's a bad habit of his.

Chroto notices, as he learned to do. But a lack of protest still doesn't ever really mean 'no' with him, either. "We'll try it. Just let me know if it's too much."

He doesn't know if he can trust himself to actually say so, but he nods again anyway.

He doesn't touch the blindfold or ask for its removal throughout the session even as he's pulled up and turned around. Whispers brush against his ear the whole night, constantly reassuring him that he isn't having a nightmare about someone else.

"Just focus on my voice, even if you have to ignore the feeling."

They keep a slow, steady pace up until the end.

"You're doing fine. So good. Come on, talk to me."

He calls out his name weakly as his hips rock backward. He feels trapped and hates that he can like this.

"I'm here. I'm here with you. Stay with me."

18-2 - Daddy [*2]

"So, ah... Before all this, you kind of hinted at..."

"You're nervous and it's making me nervous."

"I'm trying to be open-minded here."

"That isn't helping."

"You did a lot of things for me for Father's Day the first year you were here."

"..."

"And now, uh. Well, we're this."

"..."

"We're consenting participants of intercourse together. Fairly often."

"..."

"I mean, I'm not into it, but if—"

"I do not have a daddy kink. Do not finish that sentence. Do not ask me if I want to call you 'daddy'."

"Oh thank goodness."

20-1 - Squeeze

Aurum wondered if he just hated everything about himself sometimes. All too often since this man had come into his life, he found himself thinking the exact same words:

'I hate that I like this.'

He was almost always asked first, and on the rare occasion that he wasn't, he was sincerely apologized to and asked afterward. He was never forced or guilted into anything, even by his own nasty subconscious. (And that was a miracle in itself; he'd resigned himself before he ever confessed that he'd probably agree to anything even if he'd rather die had it been anyone else.)

It was... difficult. So many things he found he absolutely loved, but would chastise himself for— feel bad for enjoying. He had to wonder just who had taught him what that had limited him so much, because he certainly didn't remember being explicitly told that anything was as wrong as he ended up thinking it was.

"You just never thought you'd grow up to be even remotely kinky?" Chroto had offered one evening, and he'd hidden his defiant scowl under the sheets.

Maybe he had a point, but it was still confusing. He hated feeling powerless, yet he liked so many things that gave the same general feeling just in a different flavor. Being blinded, being ordered, being restrained...

He was being pressed hard against the mattress, hard enough that he only had the side of his mouth and one nostril to breathe from with his head turned to the side, hard enough that with each thrust, his entire torso rubbed against the sheets and he could feel his lover's chest on his back.

The position didn't offer much movement, but the pressure against both sides had him feeling more trapped than ever. His arms were trapped at his sides and he couldn't have gotten free even if he'd wanted to.

But as his groans came half-muffled, he couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be.

23-1 - Slow (Either)

Chroto appreciated his partner's enthusiasm and forwardness. Had it been up to him to take charge, they likely wouldn't have all that much intimacy beyond holding each-other as they slept. He just couldn't be bothered to put forth the effort for much unless it needed to be done, or he really wanted it to be done.

It took getting used to and plenty of reassurances that yes, he was still interested, and no, he didn't dislike intimacy.

"It's like cake, y'know?" he tried to explain one day, "cake's great, and you could look at it or fantasize about it all day. But if you have to make the cake yourself, you're not going to be eating a lot of cake unless you really enjoy baking."

The exasperated look he was given in response had him laughing at himself and apologizing for the analogy.

But he found he got the point across just fine as they became increasingly bold in their advances.

But the pace was almost always too much to keep up with unless they were already on the same frenzied page. Whether it was because of impatience, wanting to see him exhausted, some kind of misunderstanding, or just personal preference, he never got around to asking. But if they weren't complaining, neither was he.

Most of the time, at least.

He cupped their face, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs as he redirected the feverish kiss to something more sensual.

He caught their wrists, placing their roaming hands at his chest as his own massaged the small of their back.

Before they could descend on him, he brought them back for a kiss as one hand caressed their cheek and the other ran over their hip.

He would take control back, grinding into them slowly with long, deep, quiet sighs. They would describe the look he gave them as reverent when he brought one of their hands up to kiss their palm.

They conceded easily to his silent requests for sensuality. They would ask afterward if they should always go slower, if perhaps they weren't romantic enough.

He would give them a silly, sated grin.

"It's all about the cake you're craving at the moment."

"Stop using cake analogies!"

He appreciated their enthusiasm and seeming inability to get enough of him, but he liked teaching them how to slow down and just enjoy each-other more.

24-2 - Exhibitionism/Voyeurism [*3]

The year is A.D.234. Countless years of innovation have led up to a bio-engineered civilization living among the stars on a sprawling fleet of spaceships, and he can still hear his roommate masturbating.

Is a little bit of sound-proofing really that much to ask for?

He knew he was at fault, too, though. He wasn't in his room, trying to sleep. He wasn't in the kitchen, he wasn't in the bathroom. He was the one sitting outside Chroto's room with his back to the wall.

He hadn't meant to— well, obviously he hadn't specifically wandered over just to overhear... this. What kind of freak would do that?

But what kind of freak went to tell their roommate dinner was ready, noticed they were... busy, and instead of either going away and waiting a decent amount of time or casually leaving a knock on the door and a shout of the information meant to be delivered, just sat down and kept listening?

Aurum was that kind of freak, obviously. He was the disgusting kind of creep that did things like that. The kind that couldn't stop himself from getting as close to the door as possible to savor every faint noise, every wet slide, every breath, every hum. The kind who conjured the image of the movements going on behind him. The kind who let his imagination run and picture those same hands on himself, stroking and breathing over his shoulder and humming in satisfaction.

No, no he wasn't. He reined it back in, put a stop to that fantasy. That was too much, crossed too many boundaries, defiled Chroto's image.

He swallowed thickly and pushed himself up to sneak away, not sticking around to hear the end of it. He had violated Chroto's privacy enough.

27-1 - Creepy [*3]

If he realized every time he started fantasizing, he'd shut it down immediately.

It always starts off small, with things he already knows. Chroto will roll his neck after stretching, and Aurum imagines what he smells like. He already knows; the barracks aren't very spacious. His mind fabricates the scent of worn leather and musky cologne diluted by the sweat of a day's work and he almost shudders.

When Chroto is leaning back into the couch flipping the pages of a book, Aurum imagines what his hands feel like. He's already felt them numerous times, from picking him out of the rubble to patting his hair encouragingly. A hand lands on his shoulder and he imagines it isn't his own, that it isn't stationary, trailing down to play at his waist.

Chroto's mouth, speaking with clients, makes Aurum imagine what it would feel like moving against his own lips. His chest, hugged tight by the inner layer beneath his armor, invites his hands across it. His legs, twisting just so to keep his balance in mid-air, call for worship.

He stops himself— or tries to.

He can't stop his own mind at that point, but he can resolutely keep his hands clenched at his sides. He won't seek gratification even at the unknowing expense of someone else. He won't stoop that low; won't cheapen him more than he has.

Aurum tries his best to sleep through the unwilled image of a body moving over him, and it's so much easier than looking Chroto in the eye the next day.

27-2 - Branding [*4]

When he saw them all through highschool, they looked painful.

When he received his first one years later, he didn't even notice it until he caught sight of it in the mirror. Chroto walked up behind him, ran his fingers over the small bruise on his neck with a look of pride before leaving a kiss on his cheek.

"Sorry. I should have asked."

"No, it's... It's fine."

Nothing about his posture says it's fine, but the excited quiver in his voice makes up for it.

He found out later that they could hurt. He doesn't remember what words he'd uttered, but it set both passions ablaze, sent hands groping bruises into his wrists, his sides. He felt drowned amongst the heavy breath, the biting teeth and aggressive sucking across his neck. It hurt then, it hurt afterward, and he'd beg for it all over again.

He's always worn high-necked shirts, but now it's exhilarating to think that they hide little secrets. He sometimes considers wearing anything else just to bare the possessive marks for the world to see, but as with most such fantasies, the thought is enough.

30-1 - Rough

He can't usually work up the motivation and effort to do more than set the ball rolling. When he's angry, he'd much rather think or sleep through it. When he has a bigger spark of energy, he'd rather spend it teasing Aurum and throwing him off-guard.

Some days, though, there's just the right balance of frustration with the miserable day and energy to vent the feeling physically.

He's never been one for violence, and the day he raises his hand to anyone is the day he'll quit and check himself in for help.

But then there are the days when Aurum literally asks for it; opens his mouth, shudders out a quiet, shy, "hurt me."

And he can't refuse when all those pieces come together. Shoves him and pins him to the wall, leaving lingering pain where bruises would form by morning. Grips his jaw, bites his mouth, his ears, his neck, his chest— marks him so thoroughly it'd be indecent to wear anything less than a turtleneck for a week. He raises his knee between Aurum's legs, rubbing too hard and grabbing his hand to make him reciprocate.

Aurum can't keep quiet through any of it— all gasps and groans and clutching at his shirt, hands positioned like he wants to push him away while he only pulls him closer, grinds their hips together until he's thrown face-first onto the bed moaning as his hair is pulled backward. He doesn't put up any kind of fight as his hands are torn away from the sheets and pinned against his back, does his best to meet every rough thrust until he's told to sit still. Whines and begs him not to stop when the sight of blood nearly halts the punishing pace.

And Chroto regrets listening to him every morning after as he wakes to see the bruised mess he's made of him. Even as Aurum rolls over and gives him a small, rosy smile as the aches remind him of the previous night, he can't shake the guilt pooling in his gut.

30-2 - Toys

"I want to watch you masturbate," he'd requested of Aurum and basked in his embarrassed attempt at words.

He palms his still clothed erection as he watches Aurum rise and fall upon the toy he'd surprised him with. It was thinner but longer than he was, undoubtedly reaching deeper than Aurum was used to.

He seems enthusiastic enough, but unease builds in his stomach as he keeps watching. Aurum is hard— has been since the bedroom door shut and Chroto gave him the sly grin reserved just for riling him up. It bobs and sways as his thighs brush against the carpet, but his eyes and teeth are clenched shut, and he can hardly hear him breathe. He's not even making the soft noises he usually can't hold in at the beginning.

He doesn't seem like he's enjoying himself very much.

"Hey."

Aurum doesn't stop, and his eyes clench just a little tighter.

"Aurum." When he still doesn't stop, Chroto gets up from where he'd been leaning against the bed, crawling forward to place a hand on Aurum's cheek. "Aurum, stop."

He finally does and gasps like he'd been holding his breath the entire time. His eyes crack open and he immediately looks like he's about to start panicking and making excuses.

Chroto strokes his thumb under his eye to try to calm him down, break him out of whatever mindset he's already got himself in. "You're not enjoying this. Stop."

Aurum shakes his head and shuts his eyes again. "You—"

"Aurum, please," he brings his other hand up to make Aurum look at him, "stop agreeing to these things if you don't actually want to do them."

They've been over this before, and he thought they'd had it settled. He knew from early on that Aurum was the type who aimed to please others, whether he actively enjoyed whatever he was doing or not.

Aurum swallows like his mouth is dry, still not opening his eyes, and Chroto knows he's trying to hold on to an argument he's going to lose. "I already told you, this is the kind of person I am. I'm fine with anything as long as you want it."

'Then why do you look like you're being tied down and forced?' Chroto lets out a small sigh and leans forward to touch their foreheads together. "Who taught you to lie so much?" 'You were so honest when you got here. What all have I done to you?' "That blunt honesty of yours is what I love about you. So why are you so bent on lying to me about these things?"

"I'm not lying," he immediately blurts, a familiar lack of thought that simultaneously has Chroto feeling both relieved and sick. He's telling the truth, and he's not sure whether it's a good thing or a bad thing. "It's just..." Why does it have to be so complicated with him? "I wouldn't... We wouldn't even be together if I didn't force myself to do... things. It's not like I just jumped at the first idea of... being intimate with you."

What. That sounds like... No. No, no, no.

It feels like everything inside is sinking, his eyes widening and grip tightening before letting go as if burned. Before he can pull away, Aurum's hands grab his wrists, keeping him in place. "No! It's not— not whatever you're thinking."

Chroto shudders, "Stars, I hope not..."

"No. No. I love being with you. Being... with you." His fingers rub over his wrists like he's coaxing him to hold him again. When Chroto's hands cradle the back of his head again, he continues. "But, just like so many other things, this... all of this, I've already been raised to not like."

He can imagine. Who knows what kind of shambles Aurum's own identity is actually in thanks to the ideas drilled into his head as a kid. He certainly doesn't have a good relationship with himself at least.

"I can't like anything without exposure. Positive exposure. You, and you liking it... is positive..." His eyes trail to the side and he swallows thickly again. "I'll get over it. I'll like it."

"You'll learn to like it?" The sick feeling is back and he can't restrain a grimace. "Aurum..."

"I'm serious. It sounds bad, but... Please."

Chroto shakes his head. "Even if you're telling the truth, you at least looked like you enjoyed everything else we've done." Didn't he? God, what if he didn't... "This... You look like you'd rather be anywhere else."

"It's not you."

It's thoughtless, once again. He has to roll the words over in his mind a few times, repeat the sound until he realizes he's not waiting for an 'it's me,' and he remembers that they're still on the floor, and while Aurum had stopped moving against it, he was still seated on the toy.

They both blush and Aurum can't look him in the eye. "Physically, it feels good. But it's not you."

He should ask first. After all this, he should definitely ask first, but he's moving without thinking. He leans back and scoots across the floor to lean against the bed again, pulling Aurum forward until he's on all fours on top of him. His left hand moves to tilt his chin up and his right reaches to the base of the dildo to press it deeper. He swallows the resulting cry with a kiss, slowly working the phallus out and back in. "Is this good, then?"

"Hah..." Aurum's hands grasp up along his chest until they reach his shoulders, holding tight. "nng.."

"I'm here. This is me— it's me doing this to you." He searches Aurum's face, seeing his eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging slightly open with familiar sighs and groans spilling out as his breath gets heavier. Yeah, that's how he's supposed to look.

Aurum doesn't verbally respond, instead letting his body answer for him. He leans forward, teeth grazing Chroto's collarbone as the pace picks up. Chroto's left hand trails down, over his chest, his stomach, gives his shaft a few quick strokes before moving to grope his rear. He rocks back against the toy being thrust in and out at a steady pace, his cock rubbing against Chroto's bent leg.

Chroto figures the fabric can't feel all that good, and there's obviously better things around. He brings his left hand back to unzip and tug his pants down enough to pull himself out. "C'mere."

Aurum obeys without hesitation, sitting up to straddle Chroto's lap. He's quickly rewarded with a sharper thrust and a hand encircling both their lengths, pressing them tightly together. "GHh— hah— mmmhh..."

"How selfish of you, though," he jests, letting his left hand slide up and down in time with the push and pull of his right. "Here you were supposed to be puttin' on a show for me. Now I'm doing all the work?" He angles the toy before pushing it back in all the way to the base, delighting in the sudden arch of Aurum's back and the guttural moan it drags out of him. "That's right, sing for me."

"Ahhg! MmnnghH..." His head is tossed back, all but begging for the mouth that closes around and sucks on his neck. It's too much at once and as a thumb runs over both their slits, he knows he's not going to last. "C-hhHH— I— mmnngg! Hhha!"

"Go ahead, let go."

Neither stop moving for a few more moments; Chroto's hands keep stroking, keep pushing as Aurum's hips twitch erratically as he rides his orgasm out.

Chroto slows to a stop, pulling the dildo out and leaving it wherever it falls. Aurum whimpers then shudders as it leaves. He thinks the only way he'd look more beautiful is if he'd scoot forward and take him in, keep groaning and ride him to completion.

As if he'd read Chroto's mind, Aurum jerks back upright and glances down between them. He stumbles over a few non-words that might be an apology before backing up and leaning down to take him into his mouth without giving Chroto a chance to protest. His brow creases briefly at the taste of his own cum left behind, but it doesn't deter him at all.

After all that, it doesn't take long for Chroto to finish. He runs his fingers through Aurum's hair appreciatively as he swallows and doesn't protest when he comes up to kiss him with all the dazed passion he can muster.

Then they lay there, leaning against the bed in a messy heap.

"So, you believe me?"

Chroto looks down to the mop of blond hair still nestled against his chest and runs his hand over Aurum's back. "Yeah. It's just difficult, y'know? Hell, it's still hard to accept it when you start crying. S'hard not to think the worst. Should feel like scum if I didn't think the worst."

"If I really don't like something, I can say so. You made it pretty clear how important that was to you the first time it came grinding to a halt. I still remember the word you had me pick." Aurum nuzzles closer, sighing sleepily. "Just give me time. Let me warm up to everything new until I can ask for it myself."

"Like you'd really ask," Chroto snorts. Aurum sits up and Chroto swears the gaze he's giving him under those eyelashes will be the death of him.

"So you don't want a show after all? I guess a repeat of today wouldn't be too bad, either..."

The seductive almost-pout doesn't last long before he's hiding his face with an embarrassed huff.

Yeah, it'll be a while.

31-2 - Any combo of the above (Outdoors + Wet + Exhibitionism/Voyeurism)

Sherri didn't run across other operatives on the field very often. Planets are, well, planets. They're big. It's certainly not unheard of, especially on days where emergency cleanup is ordered in one area.

But this had been no such day. Just a long but easy client request for some measly tomatoes from the Greenscape.

It was the first time she'd heard Chroto laugh in earnest. Somewhere around the corner, he was laughing at something. She could make out a few splashes before a second round of laughter joined him, this one higher and harder to place. She eventually recognized it as the newman boy that she often found hanging around the 2nd floor balcony during Chroto's breaks, deterring her from approaching him herself. It'd been difficult to place since he always spoke so quietly. Didn't help that she'd never actually spoken with him, or even been introduced.

A bigger splash and a pause in the voices won her curiosity. She peeked around the rock and quickly ducked back further behind it upon seeing the scene in front of her.

Chroto was in the shallow lake on all fours, hovering over the boy who was sprawled beneath him in the water.

She couldn't tear her eyes away as she watched Chroto lean down to kiss the newman, a shiver visibly running through him as the boy's arms wrapped up around him.

Her heart sank as they continued, hands caressing and finding their way under armor to bring out a sigh or hum. She hadn't had high hopes that her feelings had been mutual, but seeing them outright dashed in front of her hurt.

'Hadn't pegged him as that type, either...' she thought, not really registering what was going on until well after the boy's coat was opened and his shirt pulled up to bare his chest.

'Oh my god.' She ducked back behind the rock entirely before the hand at his pants could go any further. But just because she couldn't see it didn't mean it didn't continue.

"MMhhHa! MMhh~!"

"Shhh."

"Cuh— hHhh... can— HhhHHmmMm..."

She wouldn't soon forget the low chuckle Chroto gave beneath the loud gasps and sloshing water. But after this rude awakening, she dearly wanted to forget. Didn't want to be thinking about this at night. Didn't want to end up both crying and touching herself to the memory.

There was a gasp and the sound of water got closer until a dull thud against the rock wall and a quivering whine reminded her that leaving was an option.

"HhhHah! AHhn!"

"Ha... Mmm... Au...rummm..."

'Oh yeah,' she realized, 'I'm standing here listening to two men have sex on the job. Wow. I don't know who's creepier.'

Trying to time her steps with the rest of the noise, she retreated. She'd definitely remember his name.

[*1] jfc I'm so sorry :T I can't really imagine food play so this is the best I can offer. Surprise pretzel fellatio that may or may not lead to penile fellatio.<br /> I was going to rewrite it to be something about cooking together, but it ended up being too long and involved for a drabble (not to mention not heavy enough on the kink for these drabbles), so it'll be its own one-shot later.

[*2] I'm not into it, I'm sorry. But I accidentally put Aurum in such a position, so I have to call myself out on it whenever I can.

[*3] These both take place before they're a couple.

[*4] Well, it didn't specify what KIND of branding... ... I know what it meant.

These are all the prompts I skipped and why.

1-2 - Spanking It was disappointing to skip the very first one, but I just can't see any of them being into it. Maybe a one-off ass slap in the barracks to decide nah, not for them. (Sherri may or may not fantasize about slapping Chroto's ass in public as a territorial thing, but she knows he'd hate it. Which is probably why she fantasizes about it.)

3-1 - Corset Well, Sherri isn't one for corsets, and while I have toyed with the idea of crossdressing for Aurum, I'm not really feelin' it. It's the type of thing he'd only do and get into if he was specifically asked to, and Chroto probably wouldn't even think to ask, so it's something that accidentally goes unexplored.

3-2 - Public Chroto doesn't do public. He won't even hold hands in public. The closest I can justify were covered in 6-1 (Hidden), 11-1 (Transportation), 14-1 (Outdoors), and 31-2 (Combo of Outdoors, Wet, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism), which were all either while on missions (unlikely to run into anyone) or in someone else's house. That said, any of those prompts probably could have filled in for "Public", but I chose to use them as I did.

5-2 - Humiliation This would overlap too much with 2-2 (Dirty Talk) and 5-1 (Sadism). All I can think of is just dirty talk meant to embarrass the receiver, and probably more crying, which I've already written so much of that it'd be redundant.

6-2 - Size Difference 21-1 - Big (Size difference) 22-1 - Little (Size difference) They're all relatively close in height. Sudden micro/macrophilia is fine in drawings, but it's kinda dumb in writing without a ton of setup. Only other option is aging one of them down and I won't do that. (Yes, I am aware that shrinking has been done in the PS series before. I lived (and died) the megid trap hallway of doom multiple times.)

8-1 - Rock Hard I couldn't think of anything that wasn't cringe-worthy or laughable. How do you make "rock hard" not sound stupid these days? I probably could have written something like 7-1 (Lust) but from Chroto's point of view, but it's difficult enough writing the rest of this stuff from his POV without feeling like I'm putting way too many words in his mouth and doing too much with a character that isn't mine.

10-2 - Edgeplay 20-2 - Pet Play 31-1 - Pet play I don't see them being into any form of roleplay... Or anything rough enough to count as edgeplay... Also I can hardly even put up with people who roleplay as animal people outside of their shitty public ERP sessions. What makes you think I can tolerate it in porn?

11-2 - Sadism/Masochism Already covered by 5-1 (Sadism)

12-2 - Master/Slave Another of those things I don't think any of them would be into. Chroto's too lazy to play the slave, and he'd probably ruin playing the master role by ordering the slave to do all the household chores. All three of them could definitely get into something similar, though. Something with less of a power dynamic where he just gently instructs them what to do. His voice is hypnotic.

15-2 - Sounding I admit I love the idea of this. Watching it is super fun, but I don't think I'd like to be on the receiving end. So, I haven't participated, nor have I read much about it from people who enjoy receiving it, so I was ill-equipped to write about it. There are plenty of things I'm ill-equipped to write about, but it's easy enough to smudge the details of those. I guess I could have written it from the giver's POV, who just has to take their word for it that it feels good? But I didn't. Oh well.

16-2 - Waxplay This would probably be one of those things that accidentally never gets explored. I'm also ill-equipped to write about it besides sticking my fingertips into candle wax as a kid.

17-1 - Battle I'm not sure I understood the prompt. Battle? They are soldiers, but unless it's a meaningless mission like gathering materials, they're not going to be in the sexual mindset on the battlefield. Did they expect something like "battling tongues"? Because that's been silly since it was first thought of.

17-2 - Blood/Gore Nope nope. When blood is shed, it's gone too far. They aren't that hardcore.

19-1 - Suspension idk man I don't see them having a sex swing or anything like that lol And if they got tangled in say, the vines of the Naberius forest, their partner would probably be too worried to start makin' with the sexy. Picking up? The one who'd have to do the picking up would be Chroto, and he's not gonna do that lol (It was implied some pegging goes on, and if Sherri were thirsty enough, she'd definitely hoist him up with dem Hunter muscles. But I'm not about to write about that (yet?).)

22-2 - Glory hole I couldn't see any of them doing anonymous hand/blowjobs, and just randomly having a wall between them and their partner would be pretty frickin' weird.

24-1 - Orgy Despite especially enjoying the threesome solution to love triangles, I can't bring myself to do it to these three. Sherri and Aurum just wouldn't be able to stand each-other, and neither like sharing. Sherri just wouldn't have it and would walk away. Aurum would probably go along with it 'cause he's a spineless turd and thinks "well as long as my partner is happy," and quickly sink into full blown depression.

25-2 - Boot worship I don't think any of them would be comfortable with that... Chroto would be thinking "what the hell am I doing with the gift of life so graciously given to me" Sherri would laugh in your face, "haha what" Aurum would again concede to anything until he got into it by osmosis

26-1 - Cage play Similar to Suspension, I don't see them owning something so big for these reasons.

26-2 - Shotgunning I am ill-equipped to write about this, and also I like to limit my characters to one vice unless they're a real fucking mess, and it's fallen on light drinking for them.

28-1 - Burn Similar to the Blood/Gore prompt.

28-2 - Xenophilia (Objects/Aliens etc) That's gwanada doujin territory lol It's like the micro/macro thing for me. It's fun in artwork, but requires way too many suspensions of disbelief, too much rule-bending to work in writing. I mean, why would a tentacle monster want to stick its tentacles in human sexual organs? Why would it have that instinct, when it's not meant to breed with them? So uh. The closest I could get is making particular mention of newman ears? And I already wrote that! Hahah...

29-2 - Watersports/Omorashi I have these blacklisted for a reason.