#are going to be less likely to seek it out!!! which SUCKS!!!!!!!!!! SO BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[doctorwhoisadhd]

see on one hand i COULD totally make trock but the only thing is. im worried about like. would anybody actually listen to it. like thats the difference w/ blaseball, the fan music scene was so excellent and popular that like i knew that if i made stuff and shared it people WOULD 100% listen and have nice things to say. and in general making and sharing ur music does NOT feel that way outside of communities that are really FOR that... and like its one thing to write my own songs for me bc thats not so much a choice as it is a requirement for my mental health in a very human "desire to create art" way. so in this regard its entirely another thing to write fan music... thats me contributing to a space, as opposed to my own "for me" songs that are just my way of processing my own emotions.

[maxknightley]

on the one hand I do understand where people are coming from when they respond to The White American Desire For Authentic Culture by going "you already have a culture" and pointing out that this desire often has reactionary undertones

that being said, I think it's largely sidestepping the actual issue, which is that American culture fucking blows chunks. American culture is strip malls and military worship and the elevation of mass-market pablum to Bold Artistic Statements.

and subculture is only partially an escape from this, because most subcultures exist within the same constraints of American culture as a whole; they are captured and redefined by capital on such a frequent basis that it often feels impossible to hold onto them in any meaningful way.

moreover, even the parts of American culture that aren't complete garbage are more or less inextricable from the colonial, imperialist, and racially-stratified history of the country. like, I think of that post that went around a while ago talking about "America sucks but has some good parts," and one of the things it listed was national parks, and people (rightfully!) pointed out that the national park system is fundamentally flawed and tends to shit on indigenous nations by design.

the only thing I can think of that's even sort of an exception is pop culture - jazz and rock music, superhero comics, Hollywood. and all of those are, again, captured and defined by capital, and in one way or another have historically been built on screwing over the artist.

so we come to a position, one way or another, where a lot of people say something like: "I'm alienated. I'm surrounded by traditions and institutions I think are shit; I have no way to meaningfully undermine them, and I can't escape them without effectively destroying my life. the culture I was born into is a gravestone on top of another gravestone, lifeless and miserable, and people are constantly shouting that I should be grateful because it's The Greatest Country In The World."

at that point, one seeks an escape, and I think there are three major routes here.

one is to become a weird lib obsessed with the Real Soul Of America. America is really about the good parts, not the bad parts which outnumber them and which they are built upon.

another is to fixate on the Exotic, for lack of a better word. cultures which you do not have an obvious "connection" to, but which fascinate you or appeal to you. obviously this can be pretty fucking fraught, though I would argue that taking an interest in other cultures is a good thing if you aren't shitty about it. (That's its own conversation.)

the third is to fixate on the culture(s) you feel you "ought to have" had, that which was sacrificed on the altar of whiteness by grandparents or great-grandparents who, frankly, had different concerns. to look at a culture that may still be defined in many ways by cruelty and stratification - the way I would argue most human civilization has been - but that seems to have had something else going on, at least. a culture that may not have been recognizable 500 years ago, but at least it existed.

again, none of these impulses is beyond criticism, and I think it would be naive to say that the last one can't have reactionary undertones. I also doubt these impulses are unique to the USA! alienation is extremely common in today's world, and it's not as though the USA is the only settler state in existence.

what I am saying is more that I think the conditions that lead to these fixations are worth paying attention to, and that dismissing them with "you already have a culture" kind of misses the point in favor of getting in a zinger. people wouldn't want a different culture if they were happy with the one they had. like so many other things, people want one that Doesn't Completely Suck. failing that, they'd probably like to not be defined by any culture at all - but that, tragically, is just as impossible.

[nahoney22]

Hi, love! 💙

May I request a F!Reader x Thrawn? NSFW.

Jealous Thrawn , NSFW, tension with Director Orson Krennic~

Reader is an imperial intern in training & stationed to work under the Admiral for anything needed to make up community hours. Reader has had a good idea that Thrawn probably disliked them due to his distant & cold demeanor around reader & slight remarks. Reader is not too fond of the Chiss, finds them ‘rude’, but still obeys (loyal to the empire).

However Reader finds out that’s far from the truth when invited to an Imperial Ball, getting hit on by other superiors (Director Krennic, slight Rivalry between both men from Death Star vs Tie fighter Project), making Thrawn jealous & admit “someone like yourself can make a man like me lose control & do the most unimaginable of things, and suddenly my loyalty & devotion becomes all yours.”

A Warrior’s Needs***

Grand Admiral Thrawn X F!Reader

word count: 8.7k

Sneaky peak at my collab with @raevulsix 🤍 ^

When invited to the Imperial Ball to act as a spy, your galaxy is turned upside down when you witnessed your Boss, Thrawn, get jealous.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content and language, dom!Thrawn, sub!reader, smut, dirty talk, praises, p in v sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, face fuck, multiple positions, finger sucking, biting & marking, mating press, creampie, aftercare, doubtful reader, brief mentions of alcohol, jealous and possessive thrawn, kinda boss x secretary, shy imperial female reader who wears a white dress with slit. Director Krennic flirting with reader. NSFW ART. Not proofread. Also noticed I didn’t hit the brief entirely but it’s more or less on point 😅

Includes Fanart by the incredible Raevulsix that can be found here and the NSFW one here so go give her all the support and reblogs! 🤍

Authors note: oh, bestie here we go! This is my first time writing for Thrawn so I hope I portrayed him somewhat okay - I never kinda finished rebels yes I know bad girl. Co-wrote with @raevulsix 🤍

The seemingly endless day was filled with a relentless stream of forms, data analysis, and tasks delegated by your boss that was causing a strain on your eyes from staring at the screen. But when your superior got called away, you seized the opportunity to lean back in your chair and take a moment of respite and listen to the faint hum of the ship.

As you reclined, you surveyed the expansive office belonging to your boss, Grand Admiral Thrawn. The space was dimly lit, dominated by blacks and greys, with a faint luminescent glow that did little to alleviate your eye strain.

Even sitting for the prolonged period had caused your legs to stiffen, so, anticipating Admiral Thrawn's return in about an hour, you stood up and began to walk around, seeking relief.

The office itself was a marvel, a fusion of refined taste and strategic functionality. Intricate artwork adorned the walls, showcasing pieces from various galaxies, while carefully placed artifacts adorned the shelves, creating a captivating ambiance.

You hesitated, torn between returning to your desk or succumbing to curiosity just this once. Normally, being in the same room as your boss felt challenging due to his cold demeanor and strict rules – no speaking unless spoken to, avoiding direct eye contact, and focusing solely on work.

The reputation of the Chiss, their stringent standards and unwavering determination, preceded him. His formidable nature and unyielding drive to succeed made him a daunting figure which makes him all the most frightening. Though, he had never raised his voice in your presence. The odd quip of passiveness was hard to miss however when he spoke to those under him or even as an equal, but luckily, you never came across it.

Until right now.

“I sincerely hope that you looking through my possessions is a hint that you have finished today’s reports.”

Startled by his sudden appearance behind you, you turned wide-eyed and mortified, stammering out an apology. "Forgive me, Sir—Admiral—Grand Admiral," you fumbled, feeling the weight of his piercing red gaze. "I didn't realise you had returned."

His cold stare and piercing eyes bore into you as he coldly acknowledged your oversight. "Now tell me, what are you doing?"

Faltering, you considered fabricating a lie, but Thrawn's demeanor warned against deception. "My legs and eyes started to ache," you admitted slowly, collecting your nervous breaths. "I stood up to walk around the office in your absence to ease it off. Admittedly, I got distracted by your collection." You gestured awkwardly before composing yourself. "I will finish off the reports immediately."

As you settled back at your desk, attempting to regain composure with shaky fingers swiping across the monitor, Thrawn's silent presence once again caught you off guard. A large hand suddenly appeared in front of your face, tapping the screen as he scrutinized your day's work. Frozen, you held your breath, transfixed on the screen.

After an intense minute, he broke the silence. "I need your assistance tonight," he declared, withdrawing his hand and making his way to his desk. You swiveled in your chair to face him.

Tonight? The prospect of more work dampened your spirits. "You will attend this Imperial Ball," he stated, not bothering to look your way.

A ball? You? Your flabbergasted expression went unnoticed as you asked, "May I question why you're asking me to go Grand Admiral? I believe this is for people like yourself, not just workers. And I’m just an intern."

He leaned over his desk, hands flat on the surface, and lifted his gaze to you. "I hope that's not an insinuation that I do not work."

Your day seemed to be spiraling further downward. "Sorry, forgive me, I didn't mean for it to come across like that." Nervously wringing your fingers, you stood. "I just don't think I'm the right candidate for whatever it is."

"And yet you do not know what it is I am asking of you," he replied simply. For a moment, you thought you detected a hint of amusement, but the dimness of the room and the strain on your eyes left you uncertain.

His posture regained its imposing stance as he circled his desk, arranging items with precision, making an already orderly space even more meticulous. Leaning against the black desk, he continued, "There have been reports of a few individuals willing to expose the Empire's plans on Lothal and they've been invited. I need you to gather as much information as you can and report back to me."

You had heard about this upcoming ball. All of your superiors would be attending and you had very little doubt that your friends, other workers like yourself, would be attending. So, the confusion lingered; why involve you in this? Hiring spies seemed a more logical choice. "So, when we land and head to the settlement, dress up.”

You are almost at a loss for words, was this some kind of punishment or did he sincerely trust you this much? So many questions yet his answers won’t settle with you regardless. "But Grand Admiral, I... I don't even own a dress."

"All of that has been arranged already."

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you hardly recognised yourself in the white dress that starkly contrasted with your usual Imperial attire. Only applying little makeup due to the fact you didn’t know how glamorous this was going to be, you marveled at the intricate details of the crystals adorning your dress—light and elegant.

As you added the finishing touches to the ensemble, you spent a moment admiring the transformation. The dress fit perfectly, making you wonder how Thrawn acquired your exact measurements. Perhaps it was part of the meticulous process involving your enrollment details he scoured through.

Yet, a peculiar thought crossed your mind: imagining Thrawn personally selecting this dress for you. Shaking off the notion, you grumbled to yourself, averting your gaze from the mirror. Such thoughts seemed absurd, given the professional context and how alluring you felt with a dress with a knee high slit. Your gut, however, betrayed you, swirling with a sense of uncertainty.

Left in disarray, you then pondered the impending social interaction with your superiors. How in the galaxy were you going to do this?

Thrawn had departed without providing you any guidance, leaving you to grapple with the dilemma of presenting yourself as his assistant or someone of greater significance.

When the time came, navigating the unfamiliar surroundings with nervous steps, you followed the confident strides of those who seemed familiar with the venue.

Presenting your pass to a guard, you slipped inside and held back a gasp at the sight that unfolded—an elegance seldom witnessed within the Empire's strict regimes. It was special, yet you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place.

As a wallflower, you stood on the sidelines, observing and absentmindedly tapping your fingers against a glass of an unfamiliar alcoholic concoction handed to you by a server. Unbeknownst to you at first, your eyes were scanning the crowd, searching for your boss, Thrawn.

Surrounded by people you didn't know on a personal level, everyone exuded a somewhat regal aura. The faint but lovely music played in the background as the room unfolded into a wide-open space where various groups mingled, leaving you feeling like a hopeless outsider.

Taking a sip, cursing your shaky hand, you mustered the courage to fulfill your task. It was time to eavesdrop and gather the information Thrawn sought.

Worming your way into conversations wasn’t the easiest task you ever had to do but still, you managed it. Avoiding small talk, you nodded and smiled, feigning comprehension while attempting to extract useful information.

Yet, nothing seemed amiss.

Everyone appeared content with the Empire's forthcoming plans and events, leaving you struggling to maintain the forced smiles and laughter.

As you moved from group to group, you still found yourself keeping an eye out for Thrawn but no luck. Perhaps he wasn’t even attending. After all, his presence to you would have stood out since he was the only Chiss and his character was non-short of intriguing.

After an hour of this charade, weariness crept in. Your feet throbbed in the unfamiliar heels, prompting your excuse from a group - to whom didn’t seem to even acknowledge your existence - no one noticed your departure as you went to a quiet corner to collect yourself.

In the quiet corner, frustration and exhaustion compounded as you pondered the lack of information to report back to Thrawn. With past mishaps already haunting your thoughts, you berated yourself for the potential third strike.

However, things started to take an unexpected turn.

"Not enjoying the night?" The voice sliced through your thoughts, and you turned to see a figure adorned in a stark white military imperial uniform with a flowing cape to match. There was only one man you knew who wore that ensemble.

"Director Krennic," you blurted out, swiftly standing and adjusting your dress, visibly flustered. "I was just taking a moment for myself."

The man chuckled, swiftly suggesting you retake your seat, which, hesitantly, you did as he settled beside you.

Internally, you were freaking out. The power and influence of Director Krennic were both impeccable and imposing, especially considering his involvement with the upcoming and developing 'Death Star' project. "I hope you don't mind the company? It's been a long evening for me too," he mentioned, his gaze intense.

His stare unsettled you, sending an uncomfortable tingle down your spine. Yet, despite your unease, declining the company of one of your superiors wasn't an option. "Not at all," you replied, forcing a laugh that sounded awkward but hopefully convincing.

"Since you know who I am," Director Krennic began, turning to face you, "it is only fair that you tell me who I have the pleasure of meeting?"

A gulp caught in your throat. This was the first time tonight that someone had paid attention to you, and you debated whether to fabricate details about your identity. Ultimately, you settled for honesty—your name, at least. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I've heard many things about you," you said, hoping your nervous breaths weren't too apparent.

He smiled, seemingly charming. "Beautiful name for a beautiful lady."

Mentally, your smile dropped, but you maintained it outwardly. Was he flirting with you? This exceeded any expectations for the night. "Oh, erm, why thank you."

He chuckled, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the loveseat you both occupied, taking a sip of his drink. "So, tell me about yourself. What is it you do?"

The moment of decision that had loomed over you all night finally arrived, and you found yourself veering away from the complete truth.

His reaction was palpable. A flicker of tension crossed his expression, transforming his once-charming smile into one that grew tense and strained. "Ah," he responded after a pause, his fingers tapping against the glass as his demeanor turned slightly hostile. "So, I will assume you work under someone of... authority."

The word 'authority' sounded more like a growl than a mere observation. It was evident that Krennic held some animosity toward Thrawn, likely due to their conflicting projects that often caused tensions between the two.

"That she does."

A voice sliced through the tension, and you turned to see Thrawn standing behind both of you. Your eyes involuntarily scanned his attire—a departure from his usual white military uniform to an impeccably suave and expensive-looking all-black tuxedo. It was a stark contrast to his typical appearance, and he looked good, remarkably good.

"Thrawn," Krennic acknowledged, standing to match his height. Kind of.

"Director Krennic..." Thrawn drawled slowly, the two of them staring each other down.

(Art by Raevulsix)

The tense exchange between Thrawn and Krennic didn't escape your notice, particularly Krennic's apparent lack of acknowledgment toward your boss's full title, indicating a hint of pride. Thrawn, on the other hand, maintained his dignity with elegance.

"I was just speaking to this nice young lady and getting acquainted," Krennic stated.

"I noticed," Thrawn replied, his gaze briefly fixating on you. A sense of impending chastisement for lying to a superior loomed, but for now, Thrawn played along, redirecting his attention to Krennic. "But I need to speak with her in private.”

Krennic's expression twisted into a smirk. "We all serve the same purpose, Thrawn. Whatever you can say to her, you can say in front of me."

Maintaining his composure, Thrawn remained unaffected by Krennic's arrogance. "It is a matter that does not concern you."

"And it does her?" Krennic prodded.

"Yes," Thrawn affirmed, tone low.

Krennic's scrutiny fell upon you, making you feel a chill run down your spine. Unable to meet their gazes, you were frozen under his stare. "I see. Well," he extended his hand, and tentatively, you placed yours in his, allowing him to help you stand, his grip maintaining a slight tension. "It appears my presence is not warranted."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Director Krennic. Perhaps we could talk again soon?" The words slipped out before you could consider the implications, and Krennic's sly smile at your proposition didn't escape Thrawn's notice, his glare feeling like sharp daggers at the back of your head.

Suddenly, you’re pulled towards Krennic, his breath lingered near your face as he spoke in a whisper but loud enough for a certain someone to hear, "That would please me, but I shouldn't continue to play with possessions that don't belong to me."

Thrawn's sharp rebuke sliced through the air, "That will be all, Krennic." In an instant, Krennic released his hold on you, leaving you stunned as he walked away.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Thrawn, your heart racing. The unsettling implication of being referred to as a possession of more so, his possession, lingered in your thoughts. As you stared up at Thrawn's stern expression, full of thunder, you tried to gather your thoughts.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn, I—"

"You are not to ever speak to Director Krennic again, is that understood?" his command cut through your attempted explanation.

The tension thickened as you nodded in acknowledgment of Thrawn's command, keeping your gaze lowered. However, instead of walking away, he approached, sending a jolt through you.

A gentle touch beneath your chin lifted your gaze to meet his, and you're awestruck as his eyes glowed. Not even metaphorically or hypothetically - red eyes that held a powerful allure, captivating your attention. His words became a distant murmur as you found yourself too entranced by his intense gaze to even realise he was speaking to you.

Was anyone else seeing this? Surely someone had to have been watching this somewhat intimate exchange.

Suddenly, his raised brow and deep furrowed eyes broke through your reverie, snapping you back to reality. "Sorry," you stammered, embarrassed. "What did you say?"

For a second, he paused before a sly smile merges on his face. "I said,” he starts but a part of you didn’t quite believe he was telling you everything, “I hope you have some information to tell me. After all, that is why you are here," he repeated, his tone unwavering.

Your stomach sank as you realised you had nothing to report.

"Actually, I—" you began, but he interrupted, instructing you to head to his quarters to discuss further. As he stepped away, you finally regained your senses, but before you could utter a word, he vanished into the crowd.

Feeling the weight of the situation, you sighed, acknowledging the mess you were in.

Entering Thrawn's office, anxiety flooded your thoughts, making the walk feel slow and burdensome. Anticipation of the imminent repercussions swirled in your mind.

Without seeing the point in waiting outside, you ventured in, greeted by the familiar ambiance—chilled air and a dimly lit room adorned with sculptures, artifacts, and paintings, showcasing Thrawn's appreciation for art, a shared interest between the two of you.

Moving towards his desk, your fingers traced the flat surface before taking a seat in one of the chairs opposite.

"I feel sick," you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair as your knee bounced nervously.

"Perhaps some water?" Thrawn's calm and composed voice cut through the silence.

Caught off guard by Thrawn's sudden appearance, you startled in your seat, quickly composing yourself with an apologetic tone. "Sorry, I... I'm fine."

He hummed softly, crossing into the room. "Are you sure you do not want a drink?" His offer was polite, but you declined, mustering a steadier breath. "I'm sure. Thank you, though."

Seated behind the desk, Thrawn's piercing gaze seemed to bore into you, an intensity that was strangely captivating rather than uncomfortable. Boldly facing the inevitable, knowing your fate might be sealed, you met his gaze head-on.

Despite working under him for months, it was the first time you truly looked at him. His angular face was striking, his skin a captivating shade of blue reminiscent of the most beautiful oceans you had only dreamed of seeing, yet it was his glowing eyes that held the allure.

"So," he finally spoke, leaning forward and interlacing his fingers on the desk, breaking the silence, "fill me in." The directive was clear, and despite your nerves, you prepared to relay the truth, whatever the consequences might be.

"Grand Admiral Thra—"

"Thrawn," he interrupted, and confusion furrowed your brows.

"S-Sorry?"

"Thrawn is just fine. Proceed," he instructed, nodding, and despite your confusion, the fear of falling short in your duty took precedence.

"I have nothing to report," you rushed, holding your breath.

Thrawn's expression remained unchanged as he leaned back in his seat, nodding slowly. "Is that because you spent the evening with Director Krennic?"

Your heart sank at the insinuation. "Not at all. I only spoke to him for a minute before you came over," you defended, sitting a little more forward. "I genuinely have nothing to report. I saw nothing awry."

"Interesting," Thrawn drawled. "And he gave no hints of deception to you?"

Thrawn was clearly fishing for information on Krennic, but you had nothing substantial to provide. "No, though he wasn't too pleased about me working for you. Lie or not."

The room fell into a hush, the only sound being the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the desk. "That I can imagine, given how he was looking at you all night."

The mention of Krennic's prolonged interest caught your attention, and Thrawn noticed, a fleeting smirk crossing his face. "How is it you like the dress?"

Glancing down at the attire, you smoothed out its seams. It was the most extravagant outfit you had ever worn, and while it felt foreign, it also made you feel special. Especially considering the attention from someone as influential as Krennic. "It's lovely."

"I knew it would look good on you," he replied casually, causing your heart to pause momentarily.

"Can I ask what you mean by that?" you inquired, exhaling shakily, eyes widening. Did he choose this dress for you?

Thrawn tilted his head. "I think it is obvious what I mean," he stated, then stood, circling the desk until he stood in front of you. You craned your neck to look up at his imposing figure. "But I will spell it out for you. I picked this dress specifically for you… And you look divine."

The realisation struck like a thunderbolt, rendering you momentarily speechless. Krennic's cryptic insinuation about being a 'possession' suddenly made sense—jealousy seemed to be the most plausible explanation, although it felt improbable given your position as just his assistant. Then, doubts began to seep in as you recalled that he might have had someone else before you, and maybe even before that.

Standing up, nerves jangling, you instinctively took a step back from the Chiss, your thumbs nervously twiddling as you grappled with the situation. "I'm not that kind of girl, Grand Admiral—"

"Thrawn."

"Yes, sorry... I'm not that kind of girl."

He regarded you with an almost quizzical look, his eyes betraying a subtle understanding of the implications behind your words. "And I'm not that type of man," he responded calmly, though your scoff interrupted him. A brief pause followed as he closed the distance between you, his gaze piercing. "You do not believe me."

"You're a powerful man, you've probably had numerous assistants, interns, before me..." you stated your thoughts, a surge of boldness propelling your words. "I don't want to be just another assistant, disposable at your whim."

Thrawn observed you, his face maintaining an air of impassivity yet hinting at a hidden admiration for your courage. "May I be honest?"

Silent but attentive, you allowed him to continue, even as his words stung. "Your work is subpar. Lacking."

Ouch.

"Yet, you've remained my longest-serving assistant," he remarked, drawing closer, and this time, you didn't pull away. "Despite mistakes, missed deadlines... Do you know why?"

He stood before you, his presence almost overwhelming, his eyes emanating a deep red hue, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath brushed against your skin. Inhaling a distinctive, spicy scent mixed with a hint of alcohol from the Ball, you felt your knees weakening, your preconceptions about him slowly crumbling. "N-No," you finally managed to breathe out.

Thrawn's admission rang out in the quiet room, his voice a blend of quiet intensity. "Because what I want is you. I want you to be mine, I need you to be mine."

"Grand A—"

"Say my name properly," his hand swiftly found your waist, tracing the delicate details of the dress he had meticulously chosen for you. "Say it."

Your eyes met his, the words you intended to voice dissolving as all you could focus on was his demand. "Thrawn."

His chest heaved subtly at the sound of his name spoken by you. "Again," he urged, this time his other hand tenderly yet with some vigour cupping your jaw.

Your eyes closed involuntarily, caught in a trance. "Thrawn... what is happening?"

"You have captured my interest since the first time you entered my office," his hand glided from your waist to the small of your back, and you found yourself instinctively leaning into his touch.

The nagging doubt that this could be too good to be true lingered in your mind. "Have you said that to all of your assistants?"

He chuckled, the resonance of his low laughter sending vibrations through your chest. "Now, now... I was not lying when I said that I am not that kind of man. Have you ever seen a Chiss with another person?"

Truthfully, you had never witnessed any other Chiss aside from him. "Well, no, but—"

"Then understand me," he insisted, drawing you closer against his chest, your hands clutching the lapels of his black tuxedo. "Understand that I do not seek companionship, I do not pursue romantic commitments. War and military endeavors dominate the minds of my species. So, tell me, why are you at the forefront of mine?"

"I... don't know," you confessed, feeling an electric excitement coursing through your skin.

His hand cupped your cheek, his breath grazing against your skin as he leaned in. "A woman like you can make a man like me lose control."

His proximity made it hard to breathe, yet it felt inexplicably right to lean toward him. "Can anyone know about us?"

The query hung in the charged air, bold and daring. You anticipated the response, though his confirmation solidified it. "No, nobody can know."

The weight of the decision hung heavy in your mind. You understood the necessity of keeping your connection with him secret; his position was far too vital to risk any involvement. “But, my devotion, my loyalty… it’s all yours.” His interruption broke through your thoughts, and as you opened your eyes to meet his gaze, you found yourself once again ensnared by the fiery red glow that captivated you.

"Lose control then."

Without hesitation, his lips crashed onto yours, enveloping your senses in a whirlwind of passion. His kiss, intense and commanding, nearly swept you off your feet. His hands explored your body, fingers gripping your hips firmly before lifting you effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso as he skillfully guided you through his quarters, never once breaking the embrace, and eventually leading you into his bedroom.

You find yourself being placed on a bed, his body leaning over you as his lips, intoxicating and flavoured with just a tinge of alcohol from this evening move from your lips, down your neck before he stands over you.

“I have submitted to you,” with one hand he unclasps the button of his tux before moving it off his shoulders and carelessly chucking it to the side, followed by him unclasping the top button of his shirt, “are you willing to submit to me?”

(Art by Raevulsix)

Sitting up on your elbows, you’re prepared to answer but your words are caught in your mouth as he unbuckles his pants, sliding the belt out of the loops before he releases his strong, throbbing cock.

Your mouth salivates, watching as he moves his hand along its length. You couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips just at the size of him and it made you both excited and also a little nervous.

“I assume that you like what you see?”

You nod, your legs coming together as you feel your cunt begin to throb which doesn’t go unnoticed by Thrawn. “Crawl towards me.”

Obeying, you crawl on your hands and knees across the sheets, your white dress trailing behind you before you are sat comfortably in front of him, his beautiful blue cock twitching under your wanting gaze.

Thrawn lets out a soft sigh, sliding his hand down to the base of his length and tilts his head at you before dangling the curve of his dick down toward you. You open your mouth almost on instinct and slide your tongue out, grazing the underside of the head.

“You’ve done this before,” he comments with glowing eyes.

“Once or twice,” you whisper, sitting up onto your knees to take the fullness of the head into your mouth, rolling your tongue around the tip of it, melting at the saltiness of his precum.

Thrawn moans, long and low. It's been excruciating for him to not have been able to touch you until now and you were absolutely perfect. Large blue hands lift to your head and his fingers slide through the roots of your hair, tugging softly—encouraging, pushing you to take more. "Now that is my good girl." He practically purrs, and the ache between your legs throbs even more with excitement. “You are wonderful.”

You blush, unsure if it’s due to the compliments or the fact your boss's cock is stuffed in your mouth which had your lips etched open wide and eyes already starting to water. As he drops his pants fully and removes his shirt from his body along with his tie and pants, you look up at him with adoration.

You run your hands up and down his toned thighs as you begin to take him deeper into your mouth (if you even can), your saliva dribbling down his heated skin and your chin.

Thrawn curls his dexterous digits tighter into your hair and holds your head still as you envelope him as far as you can, opening your throat for him as he begins a violent and sudden ruts into your mouth. You whimper in please, a hand coming between your legs as you pull your dress to the side and dive your fingers straight to your clit as he deepthroats your pretty mouth.

His grunts and moans fill the room yet remain low and husky as you feel his tip poke at the back of your throat that forces a response from you; gagging on his velvety and soaked cock.

You hold strong for him, your fingers aching as you rub your clit in a circular fashion and push down the pleasant assault on your throat. “Look at you, a mess… it is rather arousing.” He cooes, one of his hands leaving your hair and holding his cock as he pulls out, giving you a very brief gasp of air before he slips it straight past your lips again.

Closing your eyes, you swallow uselessly around his thickness as he grunts and gives a few shallow thrusts before he pulls you back off. The sound you make is ragged, spit bubbling from your lips and tears rolling down your cheeks as he cups a hand under your chin and brings your face up. “And did I say you could touch yourself?” His eyes glance down at the sight of your hand between your legs. “Very insubordinate.”

You had never been so belittled yet praised at the same time before but it had your blood boiling in lust for it. “I couldn’t help it,”

“That much is obvious,” he replies as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek, “lay back. I want to look at you.”

Doing as you’re told, you scoot back before laying back on the bed, your head hitting one of the pillows as he analyzes you fully from the end of the bed. His expression was unreadable, not showing much signs but as he looked at you, you just admired him for a second too.

Tall, handsome and clearly strong from being a skilled fighter, you were a little breathless and now, a little insecure.

“Don’t worry,” his words broke you out of your trance, watching him kneel on the bed before he moves towards you, “you are breathtaking to look at.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and bashfully, you look away from his gaze but find yourself softly moaning as you feel something warm and wet caress at your exposed thigh.

Looking back his way, Thrawn lay flat on his stomach and tediously licked at your flesh, your skin dousing in goosebumps at his touch. “Thrawn…” you breathe, now meeting his dark, glowing gaze as he folds your dress upwards, exposing yourself to him.

Thrawn pushes your panties to the side, hooking his finger through the damp fabric to expose your glistening cunt to which he made a noise of satisfaction. “You smell beautiful.”

You let out a soft and nervous chuckle but your nerves are dwindled when Thrawn continues to kiss at your inner thighs, tasting the slightly salty tang of your skin before you let out a small yelp of surprise when his teeth sink into your skin, his tongue circling around the teeth marks that he left. “I hope you do not mind if I sometimes find myself needing to taste you.”

You blink at him, breathing ragged. Nobody had ever bitten you before but it didn’t even hurt. It was new to you and the sensation made your mind whirl. So, you shake your head and watch as he continues to leave love bites on the inside of your thighs, marking his territory; his breath warm and fanning agasint your sex that you were so eager for him to touch.

“Thrawn… touch me. Please.”

There’s a chuckle that lasts a moment before he says, “I am not one to take orders… but since you asked so nicely.” He growled the last part until his lips latched to your cunt and you let out the most pathetic whine you could muster.

“Perfect." Thrawn grunts, his breath on your wetness making your toes curl as tongue slides flat against your folds and up to your clit.

“F-Fuck, Thrawn…!” You choke, stifling your ragged gasp with a hand over your mouth in the fears someone would hear the lewd noises of your moaning and the lapping and sucking of your pussy.

You look down at Thrawn at work, obsessed with the fact that his eyes were trained on you with an intense gaze. He’s sucking on your clit with such dominance that has your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his hands clasp on your thighs, spreading them open as they threaten to close.

It had been a while since you had been touched like this so there’s no surprise that you felt your climax begin to bubble.

“Oh my.. fuck… Thrawn I’m going to-.”

“Do it. Cum on my tongue. Now.”

Legs spasming, stars blurring your vision you feel yourself let go, followed by a collected moan from the both of you as he laps up your juices. Your body is heaving from the sensation but Thrawn doesn’t stop.

“Another.”

“T-Thrawn… I can’t…” you rasp, completely overstimulated as your body writhes in your dress and across the sheets.

“I know you humans are capable of some remarkable achievements. This is one of them. Cum again.” His mouth is back on your folds, tongue rubbing along your clit furiously to force another orgasm from you.

You wanted to cum again, desperately, but your body was tingling and shaking too much for you to fathom what was even happening.

Despite the bed being so large and spacious, as your body involuntarily fights against him, your head is bumping against the headboard as Thrawn pushes his tongue deep inside you, strong and powerful hands biting into the flesh of your thighs as your whole body convulses.

“Thrawn,” you gasp, your hand finding its way onto the sheets, gripping tight, “I can’t.”

“Another.” He demands from you, tongue relentless. Not once did he even lift a finger to your pussy, the pleasure being solely done by his tongue. You pondered what it’d feel to have his fingers inside you but as the familiar sight of stars began to speckle your vision, your body fires up.

“That’s it,” he growls into your cunt, sending violent vibrations through your body, “I knew you could do it.”

You're crying his name, sweat coating your body as you let out a lewd cry as your body gives in to Thrawn’s advances.

As you heave, catching back your breath Thrawn has moved away from your cunt as you flop onto your side, completely spent.

Your legs still twitch and Thrawn watches you in amazement. The mattress sinks beside you as Thrawn brings you to him, your back pressed to his bare chest as he runs his fingers up and down your arm. “You really are quite enchanting.”

You let out a breathless laugh and found your head falling back into the crook of his neck, your heart rate calming down. “So are you.”

The compliment repeats in his mind, not really used to such pleasantries but nonetheless gives a rare smile. “Pleasures all mine,” he purrs, leaning down as his lips ghost over your ear before he plants a delicate kiss to your lobe that had you biting your lip.

You could feel his erection pressing into your back and you damned the beautiful dress for blocking the warmth of his skin against you again. But despite the room having a chill to it, the fire in both of you was sure to warm you up.

His lips move from your ear as he leans more over you and you crane your neck, giving him the access you knew he desired as his lips found your skin, teeth grazing your pulse.

Your breaths came in shallow, uneven waves, charged with anticipation as you awaited his next move.

"Do I detect a flicker of unease?" His voice, low and delicate, cascaded over you, sending goosebumps skittering along your spine.

You turned to meet his gaze, a response ready. "Not at all," you replied, your voice betraying the hint of excitement that danced within.

He leaned closer, his words a whisper against your lips. "All in good time, my pet. Patience," he murmured, grazing a phantom kiss over your mouth. "For now, I just want to revel in your presence."

Your smile was tender, curiosity lacing your words. "And how long do you plan to bask in this admiration?"

His gaze held yours, an intensity in his touch as his hand cupped your jaw. "Are you expected elsewhere tonight?" His inquiry lingered, hinting at a deeper intention.

“No,” you shake your head, looking down at his lips and subtly biting your own before meeting his gaze, “I just want you.”

“You are to do exactly as I say,” he utters, his thumb trailing over your lower lip before you take the instinct of letting him slide it inside your mouth, allowing you to suck on his digit eagerly, “and that is to be patient.”

You whine softly around his thumb, your pussy beginning to throb as you crave him. Suddenly, you got bold. You pull his thumb out of your mouth with a pop and meet his beautiful eyes again. “Perhaps I should have kept speaking to Director Kren-.”

He snaps.

A fire sizzled in him at the mere sound of his rival's name coming from your mouth, his jaw clenching but alas increasingly aroused at your defiance and his clear sign of jealousy.

Smashing his lips to yours, you’re brought to his chest with an intensity you hadn’t seen from him yet. Your lips felt swollen from his scorching kiss that left you breathless, needing more as you tug on his broad shoulders to bring him even closer to you.

“How dare you say his name in here,” he growls, raking his hands up your thighs as he shifts your dress past your knees, letting it ruch just above your navel and pulling your panties down to your ankles that you kick off, “that man infuriates me to no end.”

He leans over you, capturing your lips but before you could kiss back, he’s pulling away, teeth grazing your lower lip. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you rasp only to receive a firm spank to your rear before his mouth moves to your neck, sucking and marking his territory once again.

“How can that be?” He murmurs against your hot, sweating skin, “I’m the one with the masterpiece.”

Before you could even fathom his words, you’re pushed up against the headboard, making space for Thrawn’s large and toned body between your legs, his cock and balls resting hot and heavy against your bare, wet cunt.

Dazed, you look at the scene between your legs before you, never in a thousand years would you think you would have the Grand Admirals cock just resting against you. On you.

“I’m going to fuck you,” his words both sounded like a command and a promise to which, you mouth a breathless ‘please’.

You whimper in anguish as he presses his cock down against your folds, teasing you as he thrusts his hips back and forth slowly. “I want you to beg. I want you to beg me to slide my cock into your pussy.”

“Please Thrawn, please fuck me. Please fuck me until I cum all over your cock again.” You wiggle your hips, attempting to coax Thrawn’s length to conveniently slip inside but by the size of him, this would be a delicate operation.

“That’s it,” he cooed, gripping his cock and stroking it slowly above you, letting the tip rub against your aching pearl, “you have submitted to me perfectly so far…”

Then, you feel his cock press into you, your pussy opening to welcome him all the way in. You're tender already but the pain that hits you as his cock splits you open is fucking incredible.

It’s hard to read his expression but he’s holding his breath, letting his eyes close he slowly seethes all the way in you. His fingers bruise into your thighs as he keeps them apart as you white-knuckle grip onto the sheets. “Wow,” you keen, “f-fuck - that’s amazing.”

“What a good girl you are,” his blazing eyes meet yours, “and it appears you take my cock exceptionally well.”

The motion of him sliding in and out of you slowly only lasts a few moments before Thrawn gives you everything. Grabbing your hips, he lifts you to meet his now rough and demanding commands, eyes not once leaving your face.

He’s analysing every movement, every sound and every look you make. Like he’s making a mental note of you.

Words strangled in your throat but the gentle groans and low rumble of his rare praises is enough to have your eyes rolling back, cursing loudly as you feel him so full inside you. A prick of heat dances down your spine and settles in your abdomen, increasing the already growing fire of arousal that was quickly overtaking you.

He moves one hand down your body, caressing your breasts from over your dress which has your head tilting back in pleasure but not before he grabs at your throat. His hold isn’t dangerous, in fact it was very alluring as he keeps your focus solely on him. “Don’t you look away from me.”

“Yes, Thrawn.” You pant, gasping as he ever so gently squeezes your throat as he drills hard and fast right into you

Minutes of exctasy pass and soon, Thrawn has flipped you so you straddled on top of him, not once breaking away from you as he ruts his hips upwards, your chest falling against his bare one as he fucks you with great determination.

“O-oh fuck! Thrawn please…!” You whimper pathetically, sobbing into his chest as his arms wrap around your body, pressing you tight against him, confined to his warm skin.

He’s groaning your name, teeth biting into the flesh of your shoulder before he moves you so you’re sat up straight, grabbing hold of your dress so you have nowhere to go. “Ride me. Come on.” With one hard spank to your arse, you squirm in pleasure; eyes locked to his as you began to move your hips to and fro, dragging your pussy along his cock that was soaked with your juices.

Nails biting your hips, you writhe on him, your hands falling to hold onto his toned pectorals, watching as he stares up at you as he fills every inch of you.

His blown pupils show that he is hungry and at long last, he starts to remove your dress. Tossing it to the side, he sits up slowly watching your breasts bounce up and down on your chest as you grind hard on his cock. “Your body would be perfect as a sculpture.” His fingers caress over your stiffened nipples, a hum of satisfaction in his throat. “That way I could admire you when you are in my absence.”

You couldn’t help yourself, planting a heated kiss to his lips as his words spur you on to satisfy the Grand Admiral. His right hand cups your cheek, his tongue sliding in your mouth where you could taste your orgasm from before. “I need you, Thrawn.”

“You are mine.” He murmurs to your lips, noticing as your rhythm starts to get jagged he does you the courtesy of laying you down on your side. And just like the before, he slips behind you but this time also sliding himself inside you.

Legs like jelly, your body is still alight with desire, one arm snaked under your nude body, cupping your jaw as he holds your head back just far enough so he can kiss and nip at your lips. You cock your leg up a bit, allowing Thrawn to fuck you with extra slickness. You take him inside your fluttering cunt with almost no resistance, just enveloping him in a heat that you were desperate for him to not to leave because it feels so good. You feel so good and so full.

The sound of his cock slapping your wet cunt was disgustingly filthy and you kept having the creeping nervous feeling that someone would have heard both of your secret ‘meeting’. “Nobody will enter,” he says as if reading your mind, “try and relax.”

His lips move from yours to your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your already bruised skin as he keeps one hand on your jaw, the other sliding over your breasts and giving them a teasing slap that emits a moan from your throat. “Oh, you like that? Would you care for another?”

And before you could even scream yes, he slaps your tits one more before his hand flies straight to your cunt, fingers expertly caressing your clit that makes your body involuntarily jolt.

“Gorgeous little tart.” He growls, hips now pounding into you that you were certain it was going to leave bruises as he circles his fingers deliciously over your swollen bud.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck—" you cry, sweat beads trailing down the side of your face, only to have Thrawn's strong tongue dancing with your own.

Toes curling, you're melting into his mouth and under his touch as you whimper that you’re going to cum, only for him to encourage you to do so. And you do.

Your body burns with heat until it feels like you have been doused with water, putting out the flame inside you. You cum harder than you think you ever have in your life. A strangled cry of pleasure is made from your mouth, as if you were in pain but not at all.

“That’s it… what a delicious sight you are.” He purrs, eyes burning with delight as his thrusting lets up, welcoming the feeling of your tight and wet walls caressing around his cock.

Then, you’re being moved into the most compromising position you could be. Your chest is heaving wildly, eyes glistening in lust because despite your legs still shaking from your climax, you are pressed onto your back, legs folding over your body as he crouches between your legs. His cock pushed down straight into your core. His veined hands grip your ankles, keeping you in place as well as using you for balance.

“You have presented yourself so well tonight and you have obeyed me perfectly,” he rasps, mouth almost drooling, “now is time for your reward.”

Speechless, as usual when you’re around him, you’re surprised at how flexible you suddenly are as your feet almost come to the side of your head. His body pressed tight to the backs of your legs until his lips touch yours, rough and demanding just like his thrusts.

The position, the sounds, who you were with was sending your mind into overdrive. Your hands find their way around his back, nails accidentally scratching at his skin that made him hiss subtly as you go to apologise, he says, “harder.”

“What?” You gasp, both from him unexpected pleasure in you clawing at his back and how his cock has filled you completely, tip pushing right to your cervix.

“Harder.”

So you do. Your fingers claw at him desperately, legs aching and clenching your cunt around his cock hungrily making the roll of Thrawn’s hips more violent and his subtle groans of pleasure louder.

His hot breath catches your own as he pressed his sweat-slicked forehead to yours, legs quivering as you pant his name.

“You’re going to take every drop of my seed, do you understand me?” He growls, a shit-eating smirk on his lips as he gauges your reaction.

You nod your head eagerly but it wasn’t a good enough answer for him as he lets go of one of your ankles and wraps a tight hand round your throat. “Answer me.”

“Yes, y-yes.” You cry in pleasure, matching his smirk before time seems to grind to a halt as he plants himself as far as he can go into your womb, letting all of his scorching seed spill out with each pulse from his stiff cock.

Rope after rope of white lace pours into your used pussy, and the Grand Admiral doesn’t dare to pull out before he has made sure that you have received every last drop inside of you.

He lets out a heaved, heated breath before he pulls out of you, the feeling lewd and filthy before he collapses on to the bed beside you.

You lay still, heart racing at what just happened and before you could even turn to look at your Boss, he had stood up and walked across the room and left behind a door.

A twinge of hurt proceeds you as well as the sudden change of temperature in the cold air. You swing your legs round and sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through your sex-crazed hair before you swipe up your dress in your hands.

Before you could slip away, preparing for the awkward retreat to your own quarters, the door glided open with a hiss.

"I have drawn you a—" His voice filled the room, interrupting your hasty exit, causing you to swallow hard. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw him holding one white robe while draped in another.

"I just... I thought..." Your words trailed off as he advanced toward you, a sudden surge of nervousness overtaking you.

He tilted his head to the side, his gaze penetrating. "Did I not convey that every word I spoke was genuine?" The question hung in the air, his sincerity challenging any wavering doubts.

“It seems too good to be true.” Your sigh carried both disbelief and a tinge of self-doubt as he closed the gap between you, his presence a calming yet overwhelming force. "I don't deserve a man like you," you confessed, your words carrying the weight of uncertainty.

In response, he enveloped you in a comforting embrace of a soft, white robe, shielding your exposed skin from the cool air.

"And why would you think that?" His question hung in the room, probing deeper into your insecurities.

As his actions of tonight seemed to have spoken louder than words, a glimmer of reassurance began to emerge within you. With tender care, he guided you across the room, revealing the spacious bathroom with its welcoming, steam-filled air. The drawn bath exuded an enticing warmth, a stark contrast to the chilly room.

"I want you to be mine. If you will have me," he murmured, his voice resonating with earnestness, echoing the genuine desire for your acceptance.

You turned to meet his gaze, observing the hand clasped in yours before lifting your eyes to his captivating, unique red gaze. There was a captivating allure, something undeniably beautiful and different about him.

Your attempt to decipher his unreadable expression failed as his stoic visage remained unchanged. Yet, those enigmatic eyes held a magnetic pull, drawing you in. "Will you take care of me, Thrawn?" you asked, your voice carrying a vulnerable plea.

"I will do everything in my power for you," he assured you.

The moment lingered, and finally, your lips met his in a tender, gentle kiss. He guided you towards the inviting warmth of the bath, easing your weary body into the scorching water, allowing the tension to dissipate.

"Your face is like art," he suddenly declared, catching you off guard once more. His words prompted a staggered breath, causing you to look up at him as he admired you.

"Do you not agree?" His question tinged your cheeks with doubt and embarrassment.

"I've never viewed myself like that before,"

“I’m sure you will begin to find that you will agree with me for most things,” he drops the robe from his body and gestures you to sit forward and as you do, you sigh heavenly as he slips in behind you, arms wrapping around your body as your back is brought to his chest.

"And soon you will agree and see why you belong with me," he murmured, his voice carrying a sense of quiet assurance as he tenderly ran warm water up and down your arms, creating a serene atmosphere enveloping both of you in a comfortable moment.

His tender care continued as he focused on you, his lips trailing softly over the marks he had left on your neck. Whispered words of praise graced your skin, creating a delicate symphony of affectionate gestures, each touch and utterance a testament to his adoration for you.

Later that night as you grew tired, he gently carried you back to his bed and settled beside you, drifting off to sleep, the weight of your actions pressed heavily on your mind. The realisation dawned that this relationship would be far from ordinary. He held power, wealth—everything beyond your reach but he was offering it to you. a fundamental shift, a leap into an entirely different world.

Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected turn could be the shift you had been waiting for your entire life.

———

———

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad

[olderthannetfic]

BKDK is such a queer-bait ship, I feel bad for the shippers when they end up not canon. I don't care if "jump won't allow it" or "it's so hard to even openly support queer in Japan". I don't think that creator actually cares tbh, no wonder the ending sucks

--

Uh...

Look, as a lover of buddy cops and wuxia hoyay alike, I have to tell you that this just isn't how the straight dudes see these things, and it's stupid and obnoxious to keep holding out hope instead of seeking out media aimed at us or just enjoying canon for what it is and then making them queer in fanworks. I had a guy watch my thesis film, which is all about slash fans and Miami Vice, and he was legit surprised when the characters kissed at the end. It was telegraphed to hell and back, and he was still startled. That's how a lot of the authors and target audience are: they just don't see it like we do.

Major series that run in Weekly Shonen Jump are primarily aimed at straight teen boys. Epic male friendship is a lot of what that audience is after, so that's what's going to be in canon.

If you don't like it, maybe read one of the eighty bajillion other manga that aren't Weekly Jump series?

Yes, it does seem like Jump authors have started including more fanservice for fans of m/m in the last couple of decades. I gather that girls are reading WSJ more and shojo magazines less. Presumably, that's why. But that's a secondary market.

No, the creator doesn't care.

Either financially support fujoshi writing about superheroes who do go bang their same-sex bffs or deal with not being the main audience.

It's not queerbaiting. We just like a thing that wasn't meant for us.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: Xavier had been acting cagey for weeks, a fact you hadn't had the heart to address since Maddie's disappearance. but with his dubious return to school and how he loitered in the periphery of Nicole and Simon's orbit, you thought it was about time to get answers. too bad one pale, cow-eyed jock had other plans.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

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OCTOBER SUN pt.5

You felt foolish, dressed like a Parisian cat burglar, but you hadn't exactly spent your night strategizing how to avoid Wally Clark come morning. Instead, you'd pored over several small, ratty books that outlined possible explanations for human-ghost attraction.

Not the kind of attraction that makes your heart beat love songs, but the kind that draws elements together. The scientific kind that had nothing to do with what the shape of Wally's mouth might feel like against various pulse points.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on your side. You'd managed to slip from one class to the next unnoticed, only seeing the shy boy with the glasses and the spacey girl who roosted atop the library return bins. No towering athlete with big hands and bedroom eyes.

Jesus, girl, get a grip, you chided yourself in a voice that eerily resembled Mathilda's.

Mathilda, who you'd managed to waylay that morning by dragging her into the girls' bathroom and holding her hostage until Xavier had texted you the OK. Mathilda who'd spent the time before and after History barking insults at people who'd thought it'd been a good idea to share their opinions of Xavier aloud.

What she lacked in height, she sure as hell made up for in loyalty and intimidation. Qualities you admired and wished you could emulate. If Mathilda had chaotic, ancestral ghost powers, she wouldn't let herself be pushed around by the idea of a ghost getting the better of her.

No. She'd probably browbeat the ghost into submission and get on with her day. No swarms or storms or ectoplasmic squalls; no mother eventually stepping in to fix her daughter's mistake, cursing I told you over and over again because, yeah, she had. Sadly, Mathilda didn't share your abilities and couldn't chase Wally away on your behalf.

Frustrated, you shoved the hood of your uncle's sweater over your head and yanked the drawstrings, encasing yourself in a void of soft fabric.

It sucked. You didn't want Wally chased away. You just wanted him never to figure out that you could see, hear, or wholly and completely interact with him...Which would result in him eventually giving up or losing interest and never seeking you out again, as he'd done in your sophomore year. And you wanted that even less.

When had 'don't tell anyone' become so complicated?

Naturally, you didn't want to get your mother involved. Were wholeheartedly determined to weather the storm alone. Had been doing a decent enough job of it until yesterday, despite some minor missteps here and there. But if Wally remained steadfast in his promise ("I'm not going anywhere until you admit it"), she'd find out—she always found out—and you'd never see him again. Poof. Gone. Disintegrated into the ether; his beautiful, summer-sun soul vanished from the earth as if he'd never existed.

You couldn't let that happen.

"How's the undercover operation?" Xavier's voice penetrated the dead air from somewhere above you.

You groaned in response, loosened your hood and pushed it off to stare up at him, likely making a pitiful picture with staticky hair and a pout.

He prompted you with a twitch of an eyebrow, you rolled your eyes; he grinned, you untucked your knees from your chest and opened yourself up to invite Xavier to sit with you on the library floor.

"Who are you hiding from, again?" He asked, making himself comfortable across from you between the shelves of autobiographies—the section furthest from the door.

You teased him with a delicate smile, "No questions, remember?"

"Normally, I'd respect the hell out of that, but I feel like I should be concerned." He regarded you carefully, eyes flitting between yours as if he could summon your secrets through them. "I don't have to kick the shit out of anyone, do I?"

"I love you, Zav, and, don't get me wrong, I appreciate the thought," You really did, "but, trust me, it's not that deep."

"Okay...and how many lunches do you plan to have in the back of the library?"

"As many as I need to." You replied vaguely. He bit his lip to stop a smile and nodded. "I'm good, Xavier, I swear. I just need some space right now." You weren't going to fabricate a lie for him. Anyone else, yeah, water off a duck's back, but Xavier? It toed a line you weren't comfortable crossing.

While not entirely placated by your statement, Xavier respected it, getting back to his feet and shouldering his backpack. As he was about to round the bookshelf and leave you to your business, he paused.

"You'd tell me, right?" He peered at you over his shoulder, "If things were bad...you'd tell me?"

Without hesitation, "Yes," you assured.

His expression relaxed, "Thanks."

Xavier didn't leave the library altogether, simply walked away to give you the space you'd said you needed.

For awhile, you occupied yourself with homework—notebook in your lap and Frankenstein open beside you—taking advantage of your free period to catch up on what you'd put aside last night. It would've been a good use of your time, except...your uncooperative brain kept ambling back to Wally. To his puppysoft brown eyes; his cocky, boyish grin. Then to how he'd glided his fingers up your spine and had made your blood surge.

Shit. God. No. Stop that!

Growling inwardly, you shifted to your knees, notebook sliding to the floor, and grabbed your backpack. Dragged it toward you so you could pack up and find another place to sequester yourself. A change of scenery might help prevent your brain from tap dancing into very bad no good territory.

The pen you'd been using had rolled away when you'd repositioned yourself, now sat at the end of the aisle. Standing, you went to retrieve it when you heard someone who sounded a lot like Nicole mutter an apology. Peeking around the bookshelf, you caught sight of her as she hurried out of the library, phone in hand.

What's that about?

Before you could apprehend it, you saw movement in the corner of your eye. Xavier reshelved the book he'd been flipping through and made a hasty exit, clearly intending to follow Nicole.

Well. Now you had to know. You swooped over to your backpack, double-checked that you hadn't forgetten anything, and strolled as fast as you dared after them.

Completely unaware that, beyond the school walls, the specter you'd cosplayed Sid Vicious to avoid was gleefully running amok.

💀___________________________

PART FOUR - PART SIX

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[saint-ambrosef]

climate change fatalism is so exhausting. it easily becomes a ecological scapegoat to blame instead of humans taking accountability for how their individual actions affect the environment.

i had a conversation earlier in a fb garden group where a women told me that since desertification was changing her local landscape and making it harder to grow native plants, it was actually okay and even good of her to be planting invasive exotic species that could adapt to the "new normal" climate in her area so that the wildlife would have at least something for shade/shelter/food. in the same message she mentioned trying to eradicate native weeds on their acreage because it had no personal use to her or her non-native livestock.

and i was like. no girl. the desertification in your area has been caused by decades of bad agricultural land management practices, something that is fully reversible. those weeds you are ripping out provide more benefit to wildlife than your nasty exotics, and ranchers removing these "undesirable" natives for decades is why the land has grown barren. planting invasive exotics to replace the artificial loss of biodiversity will only hasten the problem you seek to fix.

but the point of my post isn't this specific woman, it's the general attitude she represents. it's a lot easier to blame the nebulous figure of climate change than to work toward ecological restoration. it's simpler to plant invasive exotics than to reverse decades of poor land management. it's more enjoyable to grow a pretty flowering shrub and pretend it's necessary due to climate change than to allow native ragweed to grow even though the allergies suck because it feeds the birds and pollinators. and it's a helluva lot easier to blame climate change for the worsening of your local environment than to admit that overgrazing your livestock and ripping out native plants just because they have no immediate value to you might have contributed heavily to the decline of your microbiome.

climate change has quickly become this collective responsibility that no one individual is responsible for, because it's so easy to blame the slightest change in environment on it. "we're running out of water because of climate change!" it's because urban landscaping practices channel away water instead of letting it soak into the groundwater wells, and turf lawns use 80% of the city water. "the city is so much hotter now!" yeah because twenty years ago developers planted fast-growing but short-lived/weak trees which have now all died, meaning our roads and neighborhoods have way less shade and foliage to absorb the heat. "the bees are disappearing because of climate change!" sharon it's because there's not a single thing in your yard that a native pollinator would recognize as a food source.

anyways i don't know where exactly i'm going with this. i guess i'm just tired of climate change fatalism because it removes personal incentive to do anything to reverse environmental harm that we could be fixing on an individual level. but "global warming" has become a very convenient excuse for many people, unfortunately.

just makes me wonder how often things blamed on climate change are actually a result of direct human actions that are reversible

[snapghoul]

I’d give you a part of my soul for Twins HC: Hurt and Whump Edition or similarities edition

Your offering is adequate, the terms are fair. You shall receive both whump and similarities.

Warning: foul language

Their similarities

✩ Both have a very self centered front they put on. Jake’s need to be the best came from the spotlight being taken away once in high school, a new kid stole his thunder and he hated how none of his friends really cared about him for almost two weeks. Tyler’s come from having the spotlight for a short time, he started rodeo as a freshmen and when he started getting good people started to like him. He was never the popular kid and he liked the attention. Despite this they surprisingly don’t compete with each other, they don’t try to one up and put their twin down.

✩ Deep down both are sweet southern boys. Tyler it takes less for him to show it, Jake is like a fortress, he’d rather naw his own foot off than show he cares.

✩ Both are extremely outspoken, neither have an issue voicing their opinions. Tyler is less aggressive about it and Jake will go to insulting the other to get his point across.

✩ They consume sweet ice tea like their life depends on it. If Jake isn’t having a beer at the Hard Deck he is downing tea like he’s been in the desert. Tyler doesn’t drink too much alcohol, having two at most, and like Jake he loves ice tea any chance he gets. Nothing beats their Dad’s tea, somehow the man knows just the right mixture.

✩ Both like physical touch:

✩ Jake is more guarded with touch until he feels comfortable. When he got more comfortable with the Daggers and his cocky front dropped he likes to hang close to his team, he rests an arm over Phoenix and Bob’s shoulders, grab Rooster by the shoulders and shake him when he’s playing piano. Lack of personal space and touch is a sign he feels safe to be himself.

✩ Tyler have a touch boundary, as long as it someone he knows, but mostly because personal space doesn’t exist with the wranglers. Tyler can stand right up next to Boone and neither of them will notice or care. He loves to give hugs and pats in the back, high fives. Tyler’s way of physical touch is a way to welcome others and he is respectful for people’s boundaries, if they don’t want to be touched then he won’t.

✩ Their love language is acts of service. “Jake, can you?” Done. “Tyler, I need-“ already has it.

Comfort

❥ Tyler is much better at comforting others, he knows what to say, how to get certain answers and helps people understand and process. Tyler knows his crew better than anyone and he knows exactly what to do when one of them needs some comfort. Boone likes chocolate peanut butter bars and fireworks, Lilly likes the quiet and star gazing, Dani likes to sit and talk, and Dex likes to listen to classical music.

❥ Tyler’s way of self comfort is to just sit in a field and let everything out, mama Seresin says the wind takes everything away and keeps all your secrets. But when he needs it from others he’ll seek out Dani or Kate to vent to until he feels better.

❥ Jake on the other hand is not so good at comfort. Jake is a freezer, someone starts crying and he panics. He tries to make horrible dad jokes which always suck but do work because they’re so bad. If it’s a Dagger he’ll offer a hug, he’s bad at verbally making people feel better but he does know touch can help.

❥ Jake’s self comfort is throwing playing darts and pretending the issue in the target he keeps nailing in the face. He doesn’t seem comfort from others often, he’d rather do it himself but just sitting quietly with someone is nice.

Hurt

☹ Jake hides his pain, emotionally and physically if he can get away with it. With mental and emotional damage he gets quiet and snappy, a time bomb that never blows up. He makes sure he gets his space, sometimes being rude about it. The daggers know when to leave him alone and no one takes his poisonous words to heart anymore. But when sometimes he crumbles and just needs someone to hold him together. He’ll call his mom or dad if it’s a serious problem like almost dying or a teammate almost dying. If is parents aren’t available, Coyote will always be there for his best friend.

☹ Physical pain, depending on the severity Jake is either an annoying over dramatic shit or ignores it until he can’t or he gets caught. Jake’s sick? No he’s not, he’s not gonna pass out (he is). Jake not holding the door open? Sorry he can’t, he jammed his hand in the door this morning (he’s fine).

☹ Tyler is more open with talking his emotions out, he’ll even call his mama if he didn’t feel comfortable telling the others. But he doesn’t bottle everything up, he never did even as a child. If he cries, he cries and he doesn’t care what others think.

☹ With physical pain he’s the exact same, though not to Jake’s annoying degree but he’ll make jokes about it. He also forgets he’s injured since most of his nerves are kinda shot in some areas from the rodeo he won’t even register he’s bleeding until someone says something.

[bakudekublogblog]

chapter five of promises kept is up!! hope you enjoy it, i promise it's less angsty than the last chapter hehe

Four nights. Katsuki repeats it to himself like a mantra. He just has to make it through four nights, and then it’ll be Friday, and Izuku will come home. That’s hardly any time at all, really. It’s not even a big deal. Katsuki can survive that long without Izuku. He’s Bakugou Katsuki, for fuck’s sake. He’s fought villains with gaping holes in his chest, finished All For One with a broken arm, underwent heart surgery on an open battlefield, and still got back up to keep fighting. He can handle four nights on his own. Sleeping by himself should be fuckin’ easy compared to the shit he’s been through.  

It’s by far the most difficult thing Katsuki has ever had to do in his life.

It’s absolutely fucking miserable. Sleeping is impossible. He tosses and turns most of the night, his thoughts spiraling, his body fidgety and anxious. His brain won’t stop throwing terrible scenarios at him. What if Izuku doesn’t make it back on Friday? There could be a training accident, a bad run in on patrol, an emergency mission that requires all hands on deck for the weekend. Principal Nezu had promised Katsuki that their weekends were theirs to do as they pleased, but what if they changed their mind? The longer he tosses and turns, the worse the scenarios become. He has a list of all the active villains in Fukuoaka memorized and fuck, some of them are really dangerous. What if the skin-stealer gets to Izuku? Or that particularly nasty villain with the blood boiling quirk? What if that melting quirk villain goes on another rampage, crosses paths with Izuku’s train and derails it, and Izuku is killed before Katsuki can ever see him again? Oh god, it’s like an icy spear in his heart; Katsuki can’t help but roll over and check the on-going facetime call, just to check to make sure Izuku is still breathing. And even if Katsuki manages to get his mind to settle, there’s still his body to contend with. He keeps catching his hand reaching out, seeking an Izuku who isn’t there and jolting himself awake in his panic. And it fucking kills him every time.

They leave facetime running as they drift to sleep every night, so Katsuki knows Izuku isn’t faring much better. When Izuku does manage to drift off, it’s shallow and fidgety and plagued with nightmares. Sometimes Katsuki will hear him begin to whimper and sniffle in his sleep over the line and it fucking feels like Katsuki has just swallowed glass. Katsuki can’t just let him suffer; he always rolls over and wakes him, which usually leads to Izuku apologizing and crying, which also fucking sucks. Katsuki feels like a goddamn prisoner, forced to watch the man he loves suffer through a tiny screen and unable to provide any real relief. Forced to murmur to Izuku instead of cradling him, forced to watch Izuku hug himself and tremble instead of being there for him like he fucking promised. Katsuki is gritting his teeth so much he swears that his enamel has worn down a layer. God, it’s so goddamn infuriating how literally everything would be better if Katsuki could just fucking be there. 

READ MORE

[alexandraisyes]

question about ASPD!

so i heard there’s a stereotype that people with ASPD like attention and act out to get it

ofc that’s a stereotype so idk if it’s true

but the reason i’m mentioning it is cuz, i have a friend that is diagnosed with ASPD (they showed me your blog actually), and they have this mortifying fear of being perceived-ish(?)

it’s like- pretty bad?

i used to think they had severe social anxiety-

it’s the sort of thing where they’d rather be nothing more than a background character people would forget exist, in their own little bubble with the very few people they hang out with pop in every now and then

so like-

this example contradicts the stereotype, so i though i’d ask your POV(?) thoughts(?) on it

Heya! Attention seeking is not a part of ASPD at all, and someone who has that trait while also having ASPD probably has a comorbid disorder! Cluster B disorders can mishmash, I actually talked about it on my thread so hold on.

There's actually a whole list of ways the different disorders can combine by more or less being a weird mix and mash of two different disorders in the cluster B spectrum (For some reason narcopath is the only ship name disorder). Also most of these are the common use name for the specific combos rather than clinical ones bc the clinical ones kinda suck and cause controversy - Narcopath (Sometimes referred to as Malignant Narcissism): Anti-social + Narcissistic - Covert Narcissism: Borderline + Narcissistic - Dramatic Narcissism: Histrionic + Narcissistic - Dramatic-Emotional Disorder: Histrionic + Borderline - Dynamic Histrionic: Histrionic + Anti-social - Covert Antisocial: Anti-social + Borderline

I also talked about this specific stereotype the other day. It's less of a stereotype and more of a mix-up with NPD. The two disorders get mixed up a lot by the public.

People with ASPD tend to accidentally attract a lot of attention, from my experience and what I've noticed from others. We have a tendency for adrenaline-seeking behavior, which could put us in the spotlight. We're also very much surface-level people-people, if you know what I mean. Anyone we meet could be a potential ally, so we keep everyone on our good side as much as possible. That doesn't mean we're seeking attention, it just means we're a magnet for interaction because people love charisma.

I also have horrible social anxiety, and I'm a really paranoid person. I'm literally the kind of person that will cross the street to avoid a stranger, and my throat tightens up when I pass by someone while walking next to a road because I'm worried they're going to shove me into traffic. Paranoia just comes with the territory, most of the time, and I make it clear when I'm not willing to socialize. People tend to leave me alone because I am a walking "fuck off". The thought of being perceived is horrifying actually, and I try not to think about how large my fanbase is because that's also horrifying.

I'm just doing my own thing with my select group of people I interact with on a daily basis, and then a larger bubble of people I interact with less often. I don't have any desire to expand the smaller bubble, but I'm not against gaining more acquaintances should the opportunity present itself. But over all, I think people are tedious and they're all ticking time bombs because empathy makes you irrational.

[homestuckreplay]

ending the world to have something to rap about?

(page 286-291)

"you've got to fill me in on what's going on so i have something to rap about besides all your dumbshit movies"

turntechGodhead is back, and worse than ever. I do want to like this guy, but he makes it very challenging. John and Rose definitely kind of suck in their own ways, but TG sucks in a less tolerable way. He's the absolute king of having no self awareness, and has a massively inflated sense of his own abilities and importance in what's a life threatening situation for his friends. He seems extremely attention seeking as well, and while it's sweet that he likes talking to John so much (and I get the sense that maybe TG doesn't get the attention he wants from his very cool brother so is leaning on his perhaps less cool friends), I don't really have the patience for it given that John has explained the importance of the situation. Homestuck has shown a lot of openness to believing in the strange phenomena that characters in other media might question, and it seems like TG does believe John, he just wants John to take time out to talk to him anyway.

That said, I'm not going to criticize his rapping simply because I think that's a difficult skill to master, especially improvised rapping, and everyone's got to start somewhere. I couldn't do what he's doing, so who am I to dunk on these ill rhymes?

In the same conversation, John becomes movies once more claiming to be 'haunted by my dead grandma'. By sharing his home with the prank-loving ghost of an older relative, John's now living out the plot of the unthinkably awful Ghost Dad. Can't wait to see him help her with the big business merger she was never able to complete in life.

The loss of Dad's car and the Sburb server disc within is definitely today's most important event. It leaves a real question of 'now what?' and it's also the second thing we've seen plummet into the abyss - the first being the dark portion of the Kernelsprite - so basically guarantees that John will have to attempt a journey down there. Based on the Kernelsprite, I don't know if up and down (represented by light and dark, and perhaps heaven and hell) are the two possible paths the game offers, in which case John choosing the dark path but doing it to save someone he cares about would be a cool story.

John being willing to attack his dad with a hammer to get a copy of a video game but being reluctant to break a car window is extremely good. He draws the line somewhere, and smashing a window isn't funny, so it's off limits.

I felt like the sprite zooming into the living room right at the moment of the quake and accidentally prototyping with the ashes was really narratively convenient, and Rose losing connection right when she's lifting the car feels the same way, especially with her 'I promise I'll handle the car with velvet gloves.' I think it's necessary to take short cuts like this when the writing is happening so fast, and when there's not much forward planning.

And it leads to some very fun art. I feel so bad for John on page 291, and I'm always impressed at how genuinely expressive Homestuck art is. The sprite style we see on most pages is so static but John's facial expressions are the best every time.

[redgoldsparks]

February Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Ruthless Vows by Rebecca Ross read by Alex Wingfield and Rebecca Norfolk

This book started a little slowly for me, as I waited for Roman to regain his memories and for Iris to get back to reporting at the front. Luckily, the magical typewriters once again play a major role in this story as they did in the first one; Roman and Iris's letters are the emotional heart of this series. I also love how it fore fronts the importance of journalists during wartime. Iris's bravery and constant willingness to move towards danger and the unknown in service of sharing the truth makes her a very compelling character. Unfortunately, the magical divine conflict behind the war just didn't compel me very strongly in this book. I think the gods were introduced too slowly into the narrative, and that a lack of a human motivation behind the war simplified the conflict in a way that sucked some of the tension from the text. If you are looking for a solid romance with a strong epistolary element and the aesthetic of wartime setting, this series delivers; if instead you want a complicated, devastating, deeply emotional story of young people surviving a real historical war, pick up Code Name Verity or Rose Under Fire.

Mamo by Sas Milledge

Jo has lived in her small seaside hometown her whole life, and loves it there. But then things start to go wrong- curses, bad luck, mysterious illnesses. She seeks out the town witch and finds a teen girl about her own age, named Orla, who Jo has never met before. It turns out Orla has just returned to town after the death of her grandmother, the previous witch. She wasn't buried properly and her bones are scattered around the town, stirring up bad energy, disturbing the local fae and trolls. Jo and Orla set out of lay the old witch properly to rest, but there's more going on than either of them realize. This is a fairly short but well told tale, queer and magical, and with a little bittersweet edge.

Look on the Bright Side by Lily Williams and Karen Schneemann 

This is a very charming follow up to Go With The Flow, taking place over the friend group's following high school year. Brit, who was diagnosed with endometriosis at the end of the previous book, had a surgery to remove it over the summer. When she goes back to school, she finds her affection caught between two different boys. Christine has finally admitted to herself that she likes Abby as more than a friend... but telling Abby that is another matter. Abby is still working on her campaign of menstrual justice on campus, while Sasha struggles to balance her homework, sports, and time with her boyfriend. The girls learn, grow, make mistakes, and support each other.

Gathering Moss written and read by Robin Wall Kimmerer

It took me a little longer to get into this one than Braiding Sweetgrass, mainly because I had much less personal knowledge of mosses than the larger types of plants which Kimmerer wrote about in Sweetgrass. It doesn't help that mosses do not have common names, so are referred to mainly by scientific names, and I was rarely able to picture them well in my head. However, by about a third of the way through I had fallen into the miniature world of mosses and the striking and insightful ways Kimmerer links them to all other organisms in their ecosystems. I loved learning how mosses, like tardigrades, with which they probably co-evolved, can survive desiccation and be revived by water even after all seeming signs of life have disappeared. I was intrigued by the story of a moss species which changes its gender over its lifespan, starting out producing only female reproductive stalks in its early days, shifting producing a mix of male and female stalks as it matures, and then producing solely male stalks as the patch reaches peak density. I was frustrated by stories of the illegal moss harvesting which is stripping Oregon rain forests bare. And I was once again completely charmed by the beauty and generosity of Kimmerer's writing and worldview. She's a bestseller for a reason; I highly recommend everyone pick up at least one of her books at some point.

The High Desert by James Spooner 

James' white mother and his black father divorced when he was in elementary school, and he moved around a lot. For high school, he moved with his mom to Apple Valley, a barren small town in the desert an hour inland from Los Angeles. Already a skater, James encountered punk music just went he needed it most: as an isolated and angry teen in a racist town with little to no underground scene or counterculture. The music, and later, the politics, of punk raised James in the semi-absence of parents and role models. This memoir, chronically roughly a year, is an unflinchingly honest look at the cruelty, creativity, friendship, and solidarity of teens. It has the density and scratchy texture of a 90s zine without ever sacrificing clarity. I was very impressed by how clearly and in what detail Spooner was able to recreate his high school angst and activist awaking in this coming of age tale. Punk wasn't the music that found me, but I still remember the high of finding a new favorite band or song that felt as if it spoke right to my teen soul. This book is a testament to the power of music to reach into the dark and pull someone out into the light.

Falling Back in Love With Being Human written and read by Kai Cheng Thom 

Short and sweet, this book is half confession, half spell book. Each chapter is written as a letter- to trans women, to activists, to sex workers, to johns, to those contemplating suicide, to TERFs, to children's book writers- each followed with a little action or ritual. I listened to it as an audiobook and loved hearing the letters in the author's voice, but I can also see how reading it in print and lingering over each letter one at a time would be wonderful too.

The Great Beyond by Lea Murawiec translated by Aleshia Jensen 

Manel Naher is an anti-social and idiosyncratic young woman living an endless city in which everyone advertises their own names on street signs, sandwich boards, at social events, on business cards, and by simply shouting them at strangers. This may not sound so different from our own world except that it's driven by an even more intense desperation: if one's name is not known, and one's presence fades fully from people's minds, and the forgotten person will literally die. Manel wants nothing more than to escape the city into the wilds beyond it, but her presence is so low she suffers a near fatal heart attack and is scared into a fearful scramble to gain enough fame to live. Her attempts to claw her way into people's memories is surprisingly successful, and in the process of becoming one of the 1% she leaves behind everything and everyone she loved. Never before have I read a comic that felt so much like literary spec-fic. The concepts are fascinating and the cartooning knocked me off my feet. A visual masterpiece I'll be thinking about for a long time to come.

The Spectred Isle by KJ Charles read by Ruairi Carter

Saul Lazenby is a disgraced archeologist who served time for a war crime during the recent WWI. Back in England, disowned by his family, he struggled to support himself. The only job he is able to secure is as a personal assistant to a batty old major who believes in fairy stories and keeps sending Saul off to various parts of London to investigate supposedly occult sites. Saul knows it's all fake but he keeps investigating anyway... and then a tree bursts in flames in front of him. And a mysterious gentleman keeps showing up at the same sites of sacred groves or ancient wells which Saul's been sent to look at. That gentleman is Richard Glide, who just happens to be the heir to one of the oldest arcane families in England. And he can't tell if Saul is causing the spiritual problems that keep occurring around him or if it's all an unlikely coincidence. This historical romance is a fun and quick read, shorter than most of the KJ Charles books I've read before. Be warned, the end sets up a sequel which has not, and may not, ever actually come out- but I still enjoyed this one on it's own.

Red at the Bone by Jacqueline Woodson 

A gorgeous, nonlinear novel about three generations of a Black family living in New York between roughly the early 1990s to the mid 2000s. The chapters rotate between multiple POVs, covering moments of change, tension, or reflection for the family. The opening scene is the evening of a debut party for sixteen year old Melody, who wears the dress her own mother was supposed to wear at her debut... except that she was already pregnant. From that moment, the narrative spins back time to how each character arrived there: Iris, a teen who refused to give up her baby but also refused to settle into motherhood; Aubrey, a young man in love with a girl who was already leaving him; Iris's mother Sabe, a daughter of a survivor of the Tulsa massacre, a women who stores her money in gold bars hidden around the house; Iris's father Po'boy, who as a young man ran races, and as an old man holds more love for his family that his body can carry. The character work here is so strong- I was immediately swept away into the cares, worries, secrets, and longings of the family. I read the whole book in one day, but I'll be thinking about it for a long time.

We Are The Land: A Native History of California by Damon B Akins and William J Bauer Jr 

It took me a long time to read this book, as it was challenging to read a history of genocide while also seeing genocide in my phone every single day. But I'm ultimately very glad that I finished it. This is a well researched, approachable, indigenous-authored history of the native people in the land now called California. I enjoyed how place specific this book is. I felt much more connected to the history recognizing nearly every place name, and once the book got passed around the year 1900 I started to also recognize names of organizations that still exist and activists who I'm familiar with. I have a much better understanding of the patchwork creation of and the broken promises of the reservations, land allotments, and rancherias. I was happy whenever the book mentioned Pomo master basket weavers Elsie Allen and Mable McKay, who my mom has been telling me about for years, or Greg Sarris, Santa Rosa based chairman of the Graton Rancheria and author. I have a better understanding of this land where I have lived and worked all my life after reading this book.

Zodiac: A Graphic Novel by Ai Weiwei, Elettra Stamboulis and Gianluca Costantini

I've been following Ai Weiwei's work since about 2010, and was absolutely delighted to learn he was releasing a comic memoir. I managed to snag a signed copy though the Comix Experience Graphic Novel of the Month Club and I will treasure it. This book is organized into 12 chapters, each themed around one animal from the zodiac. It weaves together slice of life moments from Ai Weiwei's day to day life, stories of his father (the revolutionary poet Ai Qing), memories of Ai's time as an art student in New York, his incarceration, time spent with his mother, his partner, and his son, conversations with artist friends and some of his international exhibitions. It is not a tight narrative; it wanders, it indulges in myths and fairy tales, it is open ended and I enjoyed it so much. It was written along with Elettra Stamboulis, and draw in a delicate lose line art style by Gianluca Costantini. A few of the lines from the end of the book haven't left my head since I read them: "Freedom of speech and human rights are not given to anybody for free. They always come through fighting and struggle" (101); "Any artist who isn't an activist is a dead artist" (165) and "... the purpose of art, which is to fight for freedom."(166)

Witchy Vol 2 by Ariel Salmat Ries 

This volume was just as beautifully drawn as book 1; the cartooning is masterful, but I don't have a very good sense of where the larger plot is going. This book was mostly a long side quest in which Nyneve learned how to make a broom under an exiled gay broom making master. I enjoyed this! However it didn't particularly seem to move the story forward. I will keep reading, but the sense of drama and urgency from the beginning of the first book is slightly missing here.

No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull read by Dion Graham  

What a ride! I went into this book knowing almost nothing, and I think that was the right way to go so I shall not summarize the plot. This is the first book of a series; it's ambitious, it's weird, it's got a very large and extremely diverse cast; it is such a fresh and original take on a contemporary sci-fi in which the world realizes that monsters, gods, and magic have existed all along. I worried a little in the first third that the book maybe had too many POV characters, most of whom seemed very unconnected from each other except by geographical proximity to either Cambridge, Mass, or the island of St Thomas. However by the end almost all of the characters had been at least tenuously linked by plot events in a way that really worked for me. The book also has trans, nonbinary, asexual, queer, and poly characters whose identities are only revealed slowly, and usually after you've known the character for a while. I am very impressed by the scope of this story and definitely plan to continue with the series.

Arrive In My Hands by Trinidad Escobar 

Sensual, at times tender, at times haunting, this beautiful little book is a collection of lesbian erotic comics from a poet artist at the top of her field. I am definitely biased, having been friends with the author for years, but I also deeply admire this work. The women, witches, and creatures in these stories yearn for pleasure and for freedom; they chase both through oceans, forests, broken suburban towns, and through dreams. The book is perfectly sized to hold close to your heart.

Bird by Bird by Annie Lamott read by Susan Bennett

I've been hearing about this book for years as a writing guide, but it is almost equally a memoir or collection of anecdotes about the writing life. Parts of it worked for me and other parts didn't. The author has a very different type of brain than I have, and the chapters on working through the anxiety, neurosis, and depression she suffered from when trying to write didn't really speak to me at all. I also did not enjoy the handful of flippant jokes about killing yourself when the writing isn't going well. However. There are also some genuinely really moving pieces about writing books as gifts to loved ones, especially loved ones who are soon to leave us. I thought a lot of the advice in the middle about focusing on details, on recording memories, on research, and on character development was really solid, and I want to keep some of it in mind when I start developing my next book. There was also a set of lines in the introduction, about how writers are able to participate in public life while also working from home and without leaving the house which hit the nail on the head of why I entered this career!

Recitatif by Toni Morrison read by Bahni Turpin with an intro written and read by Zadie Smith

I've been wanting to try another Toni Morrison, since the only one I had previously read in high school went completely over my head at age 15. Recitatif is Morrison's only short story, and this audiobook version is read by the wonderful Bahni Turpin (who you might recognize from Angie Thomas or Akwaeke Emezi's audiobooks). Also included in an excellent essay written and read by Zadie Smith. This comes first in the audio, but if you are new to the story as I was, skip the essay and listen to the story first! Then go back and listen to the essay afterwards. This way the cleverness and impact of the story can hit you fully. It is so smart, so well crafted, and such a master class in writing that both reveals and conceals so much about the complicated relationship of two damaged women.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 1 by Ryoko Kui 

I can immediately see why so many people are charmed by this world and these characters! This is the start of a really fun D&D infused adventure story, with a small group of down on their luck adventures deciding to cut their adventuring costs by eating the monsters they kill in the dungeon. The man behind this idea, Laos, is also searching for a missing sister who may or may not have already been eaten by a dragon. I already have books 2 and 3 on hold; I haven't been so captured by a manga series since starting Witch Hat Atelier.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 2 by Ryoko Kui

I devoured this book as quickly as book one. Our adventure party gets a bit deeper into the dungeon and begin to have more meaningful interactions with the beings who dwell there, including an Orc family just trying to get by, golems which grow vegetables on their backs, and living paintings which might reveal more of the buried castle's history.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 3 by Ryoko Kui

A flashback reveals more of the school friendship of Marcelle and Falin; a deep underground lake leads to many encounters with watery monsters of various types. I continue to have a very fun time with this series!

Bunt by Ngozi Ukazu and Mad Rupert

Molly grew up in Peachtree, Georgia, in her lesbian moms' hardware store, in the shadow of the town's prestigious and expensive art college, PICA. Every since she can remember, she's wanted to attend PICA- despite the fact that her best friend dropped out last year and says the school chews people up and spits them out. But Molly got a full ride scholarship, so her first semester should be a breeze, right? No! Because when she shows up to orientation, no one can find her scholarship or even her registration. It turns Molly will have to pay for her first year after all; she takes out some dodgy loans and scours the financial aid booklets for any other scholarship she can apply for. It turns out, if she can scrape up a full team of softball players... and they compete against other college teams in the same division... and they win at least one game over the course of the semester... the whole team gets a free tuition! Is it possible to win one game with a bunch of big-ego, burned-out, athletically-challenged artists? I loved the energy of this story, with many well-informed digs at art school culture and hypocrisy. The team has great chemistry and the art style is full of action, physical humor, and delightfully expressive cartooning.

[wikiangela]

Weekend WIP Game

tagged by @jesuisici33 <3

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more)

1. WIP List:

alive shannon

sick eddie

buddie coffee shop

new buddie chris' school

roommates

bi eddie

buddie death cast fic

cheating fic

untitled natalia fic

buddie 2x01

5+1 nicknames

coffee buddie

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

alive shannon with 20k words so far

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

alive shannon, since it's kinda a canon rewrite and I still haven't decided to which point it's gonna go, we'll see when it'll feel right to end it haha

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

once again, alive shannon haha - it's just so fun to explore what all those dynamics could've been, and giving Eddie and Shannon some closure, and I love exploring Shannon's character, too, speculating on her thoughts and motivations, and diving into everyone's heads, and I'm so excited to see it all develop!!

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

I think it's either alive shannon or the cheating fic alive shannon bc I've never written s2/s3 buddie and I wanna get their characters semi-right, and I don't remember a lot of details so I need to get on with my rewatch lol - and also writing Shannon's and Eddie's feelings on their relationship and how it all ended is not easy haha and the cheating fic bc it's so not my thing but a song inspired it and it got stuck in my head and it's happening haha and I hope I'll make it make sense haha

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

tbh all of them - some more, some less, but there are moments, especially lately, when veeeery often I'm just like: everything I write sucks wtf

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

@giddyupbuck agreed to beta the alive shannon fic, and I spam them with snippets if I'm in doubt and it's sooo helpful fr ily <3 and I'll need alive shannon beta-read bc it's gonna be so long, and I keep changing my mind about things bc of how many ideas I have, so I just need someone else to look at it and tell me if everything makes sense haha - and Ro's helped me so much with some previous fics so they have my full trust with my baby that is the alive shannon fic haha

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

all of them at some point lol - a few of these are actually on hold bc of that - I will get back to them tho!

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

as of now there's no ocs in any of these, but we'll see haha

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

cheating fic and maaaaybe coffee buddie (if I'll ever get back to this one) - no actual smut in my wips yet atm

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

buddie death cast fic - if you've read 'they both die at the end' you know why lol this is not gonna have a happy ending

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

so far I'm loving everyone in alive shannon so I guess let's go with that haha

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

oh I am so bad this - but maybe let's say buddie coffee shop au bc i think it's the only one where I put even a little bit of focus on the setting lmao

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

alive shannon, been thinking about it and making notes for months before I started writing, and I don't think i've ever been this invested in a fic

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

alive shannon - - like I said, it's my most precious baby, and I'm so excited to not only write it but read it, and I hope it's gonna be as good as it is in my head, and I hope I'll make the story make sense with Shannon there, but also keeping some important buddie moments from canon hah

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

not sure if i've ever dreamt about a wip, but i do get new ideas in my sleep sometimes lol

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

alive shannon will have switching povs which i rarely do, so it's gonna be a challenge to write three distinct voices - and diving into Shannon's head and feelings and motivations will also definitely be hard

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

I think sick eddie - he's so ridiculously stubborn and difficult istg haha or buddie coffee shop with how fucking awkward buck's being

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

yep, once again, alive shannon - it's as much a buddie fic as it is a shannon fic, so it's not exactly outside pov, bc I'm just excited to focus on her equally as much, on how she's settling into their lives, becoming a better mom, being involved in Chris' life - she's gonna have as much focus as buddie sns it's not easy, bc it's alternating povs and once I get stuck in Eddie's head it's hard to leave, but so far it's been fun

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs

uhhh, I think I share like everything lol okay, so maybe: alive shannon will definitely go at least up until s4 and will include Eddie dating Ana 👀 purely bc I want a buddie-shipping Shannon to be like wtf eddie??? also, there will be more than one mcd in the death cast fic and coffee buddie was loosely inspired by a small thing from luke cage lol

no pressure tags: @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @eddiediaztho @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @ladydorian05 @forthewolves @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley @weewootruck @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @loserdiaz @underwater-ninja-13 @giddyupbuck @hippolotamus @eowon @callaplums @spotsandsocks

[veliseraptor]

Headcanons for the Yi City Crew’s preferred weather? 👀 (I am basking in October sunshine and completely incapable of thinking of other things, sorry orz orz)

i am deeply enjoying the present weather myself, after a long and constantly "i'm meeeeelting" summer (which tells you about my preferred weather)

but ooh this is a fun one and actually not one I'd considered too much before you asking me this. let's see here

I feel like A-Qing's preference of weather is deeply inflected by spending a lot of her life very vulnerable to it. so ideally, weather is not too hot, not too cold, mild and dry. the kind of weather one can be comfortably outside in! because odds are she's going to be outside in it a lot. :)

that being said, once she has a roof over her head and moderately more security about not having to be in the weather regardless of what it is, I think she kind of enjoys stormy weather (thunderstorms, heavy rain, etc.) even if sometimes the weather still comes indoors anyway. it can be more of a thrill and less of a threat, and a reminder that she doesn't have to live in it. haha, take that, storm, I'm warm and dry!!!

Xiao Xingchen, meanwhile, is one of those incredibly frustrating people who can find something to love in any weather. for one thing, I imagine his level of cultivation is such that he can manage a wider range of temperatures than ordinary people (I think that's a thing?), but he does genuinely just appreciate a range of weather experiences. I think he has a soft spot for rain in particular, though. he would get soaking wet in a downpour and laugh about it. this drives literally everyone else he socializes with crazy, which Xiao Xingchen just finds funnier. mild autumn days are also good, though! but so are warm spring days. and brisk snowy winter days. and hot lazy summer days. you get the idea.

Song Lan is, I think, an autumn and winter guy, and I don't say that just because of his moniker; it just feels right to me. I don't think he likes to be too hot (even if he can also, like Xiao Xingchen, probably tolerate a wider range than ordinary people), because sweat gross, and it's easier to stay warm in the cold than to cool down in the hot, as far as he's concerned. and it's not that he doesn't like spring, it's just that there's something about the kind of beauty that comes with winter and fall that I think draws Song Lan temperamentally. I think there's a cleanness to winter particularly that appeals to him. but I don't think he likes snow or rain very much. at least not being out in it. he can appreciate (and does, I think) the aftermath of snow, but when it's actually falling then it's just wet and gets down the back of one's robes.

Xue Yang is someone for whom his feelings about weather are wildly dependent on his mood, generally speaking. if he's in a bad mood it doesn't matter what the weather is, it sucks. if he's in a good mood then he's substantially more a fan of a wide range of weather. he has some of the same preoccupations as a-Qing, and I think gets particularly twitchy around cold weather and atmospheric pressure changes because that tends to trigger hand pain. in general, though, I think Xue Yang likes sunshine, and he will take a fair level of heat as long as he can be lazy during them. like a cat, he will seek out sunny spots and fall asleep in them on hot days. and he will prove very difficult to move.

[satubby]

Hello! How are you? I love your account you earned one more followers! I wanted to make a request if it is not too much to ask. Can you be sfw and nsfw headcanons (in a romantic relationship) with Makima in the male version of her? please! I really would like you to attend to my request and I hope you have a good day.

[Note: Am I dreaming? Why if that's the case... don't wake me up, AHHHH!!!! ♡♡♡ Thanks for asking, I rarely (ever) get this and I'm grateful. I hope you like what I wrote because I was lazy to finish the drawing that I had originally planned. I leave you a chibi that I did in the genshin impact style LMAO]

Well it depends on where you are in your relationship. Unlike Makima, Makime is more openly seductive and is not afraid to use his charm, he is very self-centered about it.

Since I'm based on my fanfic, Makime is your boss in the fourth section of public security and you usually see him but try to stay out of it while hanging out with the boys.

Since you asked for headcanons, I'll go two ways, first I'll do the SFW and then the NSFW because I want to dedicate more time to that one since I suck writing intimate acts.

Tokens of appreciation:

Makime would show her appreciation in a peculiar and somewhat twisted way at worst. He could offer eloquent compliments and sweet flattery, but always with a hidden agenda. His words may be framed in lies and manipulations, it is likely that he seeks to obtain something in return, for example... Your entire disposition and love for him.

If you are at the beginning of the relationship, he would seek to attract you with simple gifts that you would not expect from him, for example: Roses, money or bonuses from your salary. Well, he knows you don't trust him.

If you are already more confident, he could show his appreciation through such simple acts as leaving you with less workload or pairing you up with him so you don't endanger yourself on more important missions [Which is more of an excuse to keep an eye on you and silently study you in case that he still did not declare his love openly]. He would be constantly watching over you, making sure you were safe and removing any perceived threats [Whether he was actually dangerous to you or just out of jealousy].

Makime might offer quirky and unique gifts that reflect her knowledge of your likes and interests. However, these gifts could be more manipulative than genuine intent. Sometimes just looking for a reaction from you, whether positive or not, he just wants you to pay attention.

You are really confused by their actions, sometimes you feel compelled to accept their gifts, good or bad.

Romance type:

The romance with Makime would be an emotional roller coaster. Spending time with him could be exciting and exciting, but also dangerous and exhausting. His cunning and manipulative personality would create an intense dynamic, full of mind games at the worst. Well, since I'm basing myself on the events of my Fanfic: A peach between apples, you constantly doubt the intentions of the red-haired demon since you know its nature from its original version, Makima.

Makime would seek to maintain absolute control in the relationship, although he would secretly like to have sweet moments without forcing you to participate in them, but it will only happen when he is sure that you will not let him. He can be possessive and jealous, showing his darker side if he feels you are slipping out of his control or if you have been a brat to him.

The romance with Makime, as I said, is quite nuanced and since he doesn't know the feeling of human-style love, he grew up in isolation [I guess?] He could make you feel uncomfortable without meaning to but he's still a son of a bitch, so he doesn't care about your reactions a lot, he just wants to see you nervous and/or any other emotion, you're interesting.

He would always be hiding parts of himself and revealing little clues as the relationship progresses or that he already has the certainty that you will not betray him, that you will be his completely. These secrets and gradual revelations could lead to a complicated and ambiguous emotional connection since you don't fully understand their actions.

At times Makime can be cold and insensitive to your feelings, but when he's jealous or vulnerable, he drops his cunning and prideful facade, to be twistedly soft on you. Their gifts in these cases would be more intimate, giving you things that they know you like. In his strange and sadistic way, he gives you someone's heart or kills in front of you, which leaves you quite traumatized because it is not pretty to see someone literally explode or see how their insides turn inside out (that is, the skin and organs come out of the inside ). These cases only occur when he is in a bad mood or wants to punish you.

Types of names and nicknames that Makime uses with you:

Makime's nicknames towards you influence his impressions, at the beginning of meeting you she would call you little employee or lamb, because in his eyes you look like a nervous lamb in front of its predator.

As they are already closer or in a relationship that is not [clearly if] forced, he would call you: Little doll, little rabbit or puppy.

In cases where he is in a bad mood, he usually uses demeaning names like: Pet, my prize, Dumb human or needy bitch [but these last names are more in the NSFW context].

Particularly when he is feeling most intimate and vulnerable, he often calls you my treasure, love (if not very creative) angel or princess.

You walked the streets of Tokyo, checking your makeup and everything. Makime had summoned you for something, with the control demon you never knew what he would do next or even his intentions towards you. You saw makime sitting down having a coffee, you approached him by sitting on it and adjusting the wrinkles in your clothes.

"Makime-san.... Did you need me for something? Normally I don't expect you to invite me to these types of places without it being for celebration or work reasons, your invitation and interest in me really surprises me" You said something nervous but trying to hide your discomfort or worst case scenario, those many doubts that run in your mind about this situation.

Makime looked at his glass of espresso as if it were interesting, only making you more uncomfortable at his non-response. Then he smiled widely and looked at you, what you didn't know is that this was just an excuse to spend time with you. He could practically see you anywhere and yet he preferred moments like these even if they weren't (if they are) forced. But he just wants alone time without those jerks following you around like roaches attached to food.

The redhead comes out of his thoughts about Aki, Powa and Denji turning to you again looking at you with an amused and calm smile while those piercing golden eyes follow your movements from head to toe, scrutinizing you.

"Sure... *Sigh*, you're kind of right, I invited you for a coffee, there's no problem with that... so just relax and don't try to see the devil's horn in everything, okay?" Here a sip of his coffee, while he smiles, that fucking smile that just gets on your nerves, you notice that he gives you an aura of great power when he sits near you, you start to wonder if there is something else he wants.

You don't want to be by his side, you hate even looking at him because you feel constantly violated and exposed, you hate the feeling and the bastard knows it, he enjoys getting nervous like you can't imagine.

"Makime-san, if you only called me for this I see no point in staying..." You were getting hysterical, you wanted to hit him even if it meant getting killed in the process, you still got up bowing and starting to leave. Yeah If you stayed longer, you wouldn't know whether to hit them out of irritation or the simple fact of wasting your time. Damn, you never understood their actions and that frustrates you, it's like a game of egos between tug and pull.

It wasn't until hands bigger than your arm grabbed you tightly, giving you a sharp twist, making you collide with the redhead's chest. Your face pressed against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart, although thinking about it more thoroughly you didn't know if it was just the sound he imitated to avoid raising suspicions. The breath on the helix¹ of your ear as you inevitably turned red. Instinctively you wanted to push him but he held you tighter in his arms as he whispered your name loving that blush coming from you.

You see him with a calm look, not knowing that you are telling him what he wants to hear: Those beats in your chest indicating that he was the cause of these... No one else and that puts him in a better mood.

With calm eyes, he looks at your lips and back into your eyes, he comes a little closer to you, caresses your cheek tenderly and looks at you with a more intense look. This only makes the knot in your stomach that has been building up for these few minutes increase and become more tangled like the spaghetti you ate yesterday for dinner.

"I just want to see you by my side. Isn't that enough for you?" He says with a sweet and seductive voice, he smiles a little at you, but his golden eyes look at you intensely with mixed emotions. You know that everything has an intention behind it and you don't want to give in to his whims.... But God!!, how you wanted to keep looking and admit that despite being a son of a bitch and a cunning manipulator, he's damn attractive.

You continued to stare at Makime, trying to figure out his true intentions. You felt a mixture of tension and longing inside of you, fighting against your own contradictory feelings. His closeness and his caresses disturbed you, but at the same time they attracted you in a way that you could not help.

"I don't know if that's enough for me," you replied with a shaky voice, trying to keep your guard up. "There are still many things I don't understand about you, Makime-san. I can't just get carried away by your sweet words and gestures. I don't trust you completely and we barely speak to each other."

He looks at you with a 'kind' smile on his lips and sees that his eyes become duller than usual, you avoid looking at them any longer with an insecure look, he knows you're nervous but you don't let him see everything.

"Trust takes time, you will give it to me sooner or later, you will have no other choice"

His gaze only pierces yours and his eyes remain that hypnotic golden color with those rings in them, hypnotizing you and he begins to caress your thigh with his hand.

Then as if something bewitched both of them, their lips slowly approached and he kisses your lips, nibbles your tongue and lips. Loving every inch of your mouth, your mind at this point is blurry and so you let yourself go.

[Sorry if I don't put the NSFW content yet, but I need to write that part properly and since I have a knot in my head, I need to organize myself with my creative ideas. I hope you liked it and I'm sorry if there are mistakes in the pronouns, my understanding of English is the same as a 3 year old :P]

[juicywritinghoard]

Setting Prompts

A. Something about this place screams “probably not haunted but don’t stick around to find out”. 

B. Thank you for taking me to the aquarium for my birthday. I am gonna be a freak in the gift shop about it.

C. Nothing at this carnival is going to cheer me up so don’t even try. Except…

D. You cannot keep making secret agent music with your mouth if you don’t want to get us arrested. I can fill golf course holes with cement without you.

E. Admittedly this was a bad place for a picnic, but on the other hand, I’m having a great time and no regrets. 

F. Oh god, oh Jesus, what is that?? Oh, just a bunny. OH NO OH HELP WHAT IS THAT-

G. This real estate is giving mad Hansel and Gretel vibes rn and I will lick the walls if no one stops me?

H. Okay, while they do actual serious errands, our goal is to find a collection of objects under fifty dollars that will definitely, absolutely implicate us in a premeditated murder. And…break!

I. Nothing says “let’s get ice cream” like baseball sized hail. 

J. If you don’t want to get in trouble for playing hide and seek in the fancy department store, you gotta hide better, duh.

K. I’m sorry I spilled nacho cheese in the jewelry store. It might happen again.

L. I’m having a crisis in the craft store. Again.

M. No, I’m not going to sell you this fish. Please leave the store.

N. So it was just supposed to be a little funny ha-ha joke but we put [counts on fingers] like quadruple the appropriate amount of bubble bath in the fountain…

O. I refuse to have some kind of epiphany about this divine experience. I did not ask to be awake at dawn and I would not be awake at dawn if I had a choice about it.

P. So you know how you were like, no way is it possible to fill a pool with Jello? Well,

Q. No, sorry, I’ve been banned from the candy store. Yep. And the bookstore. Uhuh. I’m really sorry, I have also been banned from-

R. Call back later, I’m spending my life savings in the arcade. No, I promise I’m being so normal about it. This has nothing to do with my child enemy. No, no, I promise!

S. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little dumpster diving. Just be less stupid about it maybe?

T. I’m afraid of heights, is the problem? Which I was not aware of until I got up here. 

U. Oh man, I want to join their backyard barbeque so bad. Do you think I can pass for a cousin? Surely they don’t know all their cousins. Look at all the fun they’re having, oh man… 

V. I didn’t expect the world to end in the coffee shop, but here I am…

W. You keep asking why I’m wet and not how was the sea? Was the sea fun? Did you meet a mermaid and join a mermaid party and almost drown? No, I don’t want to talk about it now.

X. Admittedly my coworkers don’t suck, it’s just the job that’s cuckoo banana-nut-muffins bonkers insane. 

Y. Why do I feel like this place is so fancy, they’re gonna hand me a receipt for the air I breathed while I was here? 

Z. Hurry up and figure things out, before I get fired from a second morgue. Please?

[candycryptids]

Reading up and going through the tags for Tuesday is VERY interesting...but given the nature of who (or I guess what) he is I have to ask. Does he ever experience any glitches/malfunctions?

ヽ(o♡o)/ THANK YOU he’s my weird little guy I’m so flattered you find him interesting (♡˙︶˙♡)

His early design was intended to be simple, and then rapidly spiraled down a rabbit hole of added features to be of use to either Chuu and later Keathan, who Tuesday was sent off to since she could not be forced at gunpoint to go to Ishgard (she does eventually. She was just. Extremely resistant.)

Which means there’s some places where there were mild hiccups… like walking and talking is hard for him and he WILL either walk straight into obstacles or stop randomly (mid step, which looks somewhat silly) (less of a malfunction and more of a… processing overload I’d suppose though…)

He also can learn and use Blue Magic? Though he’s typically kitted for Black, since it’s more reliable, and Keathan knows it, so they can guide him in the technique. Some Blue can be hard on the body so it was a sort of failsafe to just prevent it from the start. (That…. And he’s done the in-game equivalent of fat-fingering a button he hadn’t meant to. It took months to get the Bad Breath smell out of Chuu’s clothes when she got caught in the radius. He was supposed to aqua cannon. To this day he’s still not sure why ‘water cannon’ and ‘noxious poisonous breath’ felt identical, and Chuu is still not sure if it was actually a bug or if Tuesday was just seeking retribution for installing his arms backwards that one time. (She could never really get the glitch to repeat…)

There’s several points in his development where he has a learning curve, like when Chuu upgrades from pre-programmed movements and walk-cycles to ‘learned’ movements (It was LESS processing to let Tuesday move everything himself than to run movement files in succession to do things like pick up cups and such. Especially since not everything is uniformly placed..) so he had to learn grip strength and moving his arms/legs— and not chopping through the cutting board, or picking up a pillow and flinging it straight into the air overhead because he didn’t recall he had to keep HOLDING it. Lots of ‘doesn’t recognize how much force is necessary’ and ‘learning to walk all over again sucks’ kinda moments until he gets his sea legs so to speak. Being a person is hard.

And writing this all down I do think it would be funny if he had a glitch at one point that swapped his vocal cadence and diction so that he started singing like it was a gd musical…. Ballad of Dragons of somethin’ I’m sure a moogle would laugh