#but that's what would make it fun and unique!!

[roselise]

🧸 ˚ ⊹ Hello, sweet friends ~ ! .˚ * . 🍓

Though I did share one recently I thought I’d share another outfit today to make up for how long I’ve been gone :D

Please be kind though! ♡

I don’t think I’ve ever had an outfit with a ballet bun here before, have I ??

(Which is interesting as I wear my hair like this quite often! My hair is usually up most days !! I’m not sure why I think it’s just more fun trying new things and playing with it?)

This is a more seasonal outfit with the brighter colors! Well I tried at least hehe :’)

How about you, my friends? Are you excited for the coming change in seasons ?? Do you have anything fun planned for it maybe ?? ♡ ♡

Things have been busy on my end so I’m sorry I’ve been so slow! Hopefully things are much more peaceful for you !!

Sending soft hugs, warm thoughts, and *much* encouragement for your week! I pray blessings over all my kind friends, and wish you the happiest day ever ~ !! ♡

XO 🍓 ˚ ⊹ .˚ * . 🤍

🎀 ˚ ⊹ .˚ * . 🧸

🤍 ⊹ .˚ * . 🍓 XO

[pseudowho]

Bedlocked

On a University city trip, someone's got to share a hotel room with Nanami Kento, the class's misunderstood loner...and it's going to be you.

Warnings: College AU! Nanami Kento x Reader, double loss of virginity, "just one bed", heavy make-out, PIV creampie, dry humping, fingering, handjob, both reader and Nanami aged 19

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Nanami Kento wore the awkward bearing of a young man who was surprised by the man he was growing to be. Being uniquely in possession of those excellent traits which were overlooked by girls, but adored by women, he had outgrown himself, from personality to hair, and was unsure how to wear it. Not yet having grown the confidence to lean into his character, and own it, he had been written off by the girls in your class as sullen, boring, miserable-- a downer.

All the girls, that is, except for you. And this was how you found yourself to be sharing a hotel room with Kento, on your thesis research trip to Kyoto.

"--made a mistake with the bookings, we're several rooms short--"

'--well we can share a bed, that's fine, but I'm not sharing with him--"

"--I dunno...I don't think he'd try anything, I just...want to have fun, that's all, and he's a bit..."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the other young women spoke amongst themselves. Kento had not arrived, and yet, was the talk of the group. As the only young man in the class, he had maintained a respectful, professional distance from the young women in it. It had earned him what you thought was a rather undeserved reputation.

Where the others saw uptight, you saw diligence. Where they saw boring, you saw reserved. Where others saw sarcastic, you saw hilarious. Where they saw grumpy, you saw rage against the machine.

In truth, you had long-since harboured an obsession with Kento. His hushed intensity was magnetic, and carried a mass you longed to draw you in. While others saw you as opposites, you saw yourself and Kento as each others' perfect foil. Matching puzzle pieces. Each others' missing ingredient.

And, god, you ached for him, alone at night with your hand drifting downwards. And you would not let him be treated like a leper.

"For goodness' sake, I'll share with Kento." You piped up, seeing the other girls all look round at you. Their eyes drifted, widening in surprise at something behind you, and you did not hear the hotel lobby door swing open and closed outside of your view. "In fact, I'd be delighted to share with him. I'm sure he'll be just as funny and respectful as he always is."

"You think I'm funny."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the question framed as a statement, and spun round to face Kento...but not as you knew him. You stuttered.

"Oh, wow, Kento...your hair..."

Gone was the sloppy, loping fringe. Instead, Kento's honey-blond hair was neatly parted, undercut, framing his face. All of a sudden, he was so...handsome. Kento glowered down at you, impassive and unreadable. He gave one baleful hum at your assessment of him.

"I assume something happened with the room bookings, then. For you to wind up stuck with me." Before you could answer, Kento pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning back to the doorway with one enormous hand grasping his suitcase handle. "You shouldn't have to make a decision to your detriment. It's not your fault. I'll find somewhere else to sta--"

Kento was interrupted, by your hand clasping over his on his suitcase handle. A grunt of surprise left his lips, at the feel of your dainty hand on his. He looked down at them, his expression always somewhere between anger and irritation. You knew better.

"Stay with me. We...get along well. We always have." Kento scowled, his eyes flickering behind you to the other girls, who, while surprised by how a simple haircut could alter Kento so, were sticking to their guns.

"I don't need your pity." Kento sniped, his voice low and earthy, "I'm perfectly happy to le--"

"And I'm perfectly happy to share. Stop being so headstrong and listen to me."

Kento bristled, looking torn between argument and agreement. As the others collected their keys, filing off to their respective rooms, you awaited his decision. With a huff, Kento fetched your room key, and headed off down the corridor. You fizzed with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him, and suppressed it, following him with an air of assumed solemnity.

The airs and graces were soon dropped, when the door to your room swung shut behind you and Kento, and you found it to have--

"...just one bed. Shit." Kento's face twisted in discomfort, his Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he swallowed. His eyes trailed down to you, and caught your blush as if it were contagious. He turned to grasp the door handle again, stuttering, so unlike himself.

"Couldn't possibly-- absolutely not appropriate-- my mistake entirely-- find somewhere else--"

"Will you? Find somewhere else, I mean?" Kento faltered, his grip on the door handle loosening. He looked at you with something akin to dread. "On cherry blossom week? In historic Kyoto?" By the time you were finished talking, Kento had deflated like a sad party animal.

Night had long since fallen. You heard the laughter, baths and showers running, from the girls in the adjacent rooms. Your confidence was a total mask, as you opened your suitcase, rummaging inside for pyjamas. Your heart pounded in your chest, made all the worse by Kento's silent, tortured appraisal of you. You realised, with a jolt, that you had brought nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear to wear to bed.

Beneath his eyes, you were transparent. He felt the tension roll off you in waves. Kento cleared his throat, his ears red, a youthful flush across his nose.

"I'll-- I'll go shower." He offered, considering trying to drown himself. He heard you hum, speaking absentmindedly.

"Go on. Smelly boy." You had barely registered what you said, hearing something like a laugh from Kento as he swung the bathroom door closed behind him. You threw yourself face down on the bed, muffling your cries of anguish into a pillow. Kento leaned against the shower wall as water tumbled down his back, trying not to think with his cock, and failing miserably, cursing his body for its feral stupidity.

You remained face down on the bed. Trying to think unsexy thoughts was murder. You had always wondered how Kento looked, long and tight beneath old band t-shirts. You'd had the briefest glimpse of his abs and happy trail once, when he reached above you to switch the projector on in class. How you had restrained yourself from leaning in and licking the soft skin of his navel was beyond you. The thought of the noise he would have made, alone, had kept you going for weeks. The way you caught him looking at you in class the next day, took you the rest of the way.

"Shower's free." You sat bolt upright, your brain short-circuiting to see Kento stood at the bathroom door in nothing but pyjama trousers, steam billowing out across broad shoulders and swept back hair. You forced your mask back into place.

"Thought you'd died in there." You offered, not as casual as you sounded. You fumbled your shower bag and pyjamas out of your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. You and Kento danced awkwardly, trying to skirt round each other. With a grunt of irritation, Kento grasped your upper arms, moving you effortlessly around him into the bathroom. His touch was scalding. You wouldn't possibly make it through the weekend.

By the time you headed out of the shower, tugging at your t-shirt to make it cover more of your thighs, you blushed to your toes to see Kento sat up in bed, bare chested and reading. He read the same sentence over, and over, and over, trying with broken determination not to track his eyes up your legs, and imagine how you tasted between them. Feeling you hurriedly slip into bed beside him made his cock jump, and he reached out with a fumbling hand, switching off the light without warning.

Only the faint bathroom light illuminated the room. You both lay, backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed. The silence grew oppressively heavy. You felt lightheaded, barely breathing, hyperaware of every noise and movement your bodies made. You were paralysed by thoughts of his honey-rich voice, his lightly freckled shoulders itching to be touched, how it would feel to be trapped beneath him while he fell apart above you.

"I'm sorry." You blinked, hearing Kento's apologetic rumble.

"...what are you sorry for?"

"This...this situation. I know I'm no fun to be around. And I've made my peace with that. But you--"

"You are fun. Very fun. I'm...not going to punish you for being an introvert."

Kento was quiet on his side of the bed, but no more relaxed. You had gathered the guts to reach one hand across the sheets to him, before he threw the covers aside, and moved to sit up.

"You need your own space. I'll sleep on the sofa." The 'sofa' sat at the end of the bed, barely more than a loveseat, and you snatched a hand out, grabbing Kento round the bicep. You almost shivered at the hard cords of muscle there, thicker than your hand by far, barely grasping on as Kento tensed.

"No. You're taller than me. I'll sleep on the sofa--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me--"

"--I'm not a gentleman, it's just basic manners--"

"--listen, I feel fine, just come and share--"

"--offer some mad girl a bed and suddenly you're a gentleman--"

"Kento, please just come to bed with me."

Kento's brain stuttered, now. He rolled to face you, his whole body on fire, trying to sound calm. He was an open book, to you. You felt every nerve ending of your skin put to the flame.

"...come to bed...with you?" You moved to roll away and cover your face with your hands, indescribably mortified. Kento couldn't allow it-- not when he'd daydreamed about this for so long. He grasped your hands, rolling you back over to face him. He looked awkward, not used to his own strength, as you flipped back over with a squeak, and a weak apology from Kento. You had never noticed the beautiful whiskey depths of his eyes, before.

You were lost for words. The tables had turned so suddenly, you had no idea on which side you sat. Kento scoffed, a faint blush on his high cheekbones, scowling into a corner of the room. The silence thickened again. Kento huffed a laugh.

"Go to sleep. I'll...I'll just play some games for a while." He did not want to. He wanted to flip you over again, to hear that squeak again, wondering if you'd squeak or moan when he pressed his weeping length into your--

"Oh...what games did you bring?" Your eyes lit up, sparkling, sitting up in bed with a bounce. Kento melted. He wanted to put you in his pocket. He could manage the urges, but the affection overwhelmed him and he stuttered, fumbling for words.

"Because..." Kento waited on bated breath, your lips plush and parted, crawling just-so towards him on the bed, seeing how your breasts shifted between your arms beneath that fucking t-shirt and maybe she would want this too fuck we wouldn't come out all weekend once we've tasted each other fuck if she were my girlfriend she'd be my whole world wouldn't ask for anything else ever again--

"...because I'm desperate for a Gengar actually but I haven't got anyone to trade my Haunter with and--"

"Oh. I need a Golem."

"Oh."

"Nice."

You both rummaged in your bags, grabbing your GameBoys, and you swore, trying to find the cable to connect them. Kento raised his eyebrows, scooting himself back beside you in bed, and crossing his long legs.

"Really? You brought one? Who did you think was gonna trade with you, one of them out there--"

"I'll be honest, I was relying on you, Kento, like I always do." Kento's ears reddened. He moved to sweep back the fringe he no longer had. Instead, his long fingers swept back through his neat parting, mussing commas of blond over his forehead, in a way that made you want to do the same until his hair was a mess and he was groaning.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, comparing Pokémon teams. Kento favoured Steel and Fighting types in a balanced, well-prepared team with no weak links. You favoured Ghost types and anything cute, in a weird mismatched set-up that surprised your enemies. With your short cable connecting your GameBoys, you sat thigh to thigh. You hadn't noticed your toes scrunching against Kento's, foot, stroking your skin against his. You felt him shiver and tense.

"What-- what are you doing?" Kento asked, his voice catching in his throat. His chest felt tight. His whole being zeroed in on where your skin stroked his. You caught yourself, and curled your toes away, to Kento's disappointment. "It-- it's okay...you don't have to stop." Your games were ignored now, defunct in distracted hands.

You swallowed, the air thick with tension around you. He was so close, you could smell the residue of his cologne, and the natural masculine smell of him, earthy beneath freshly washed skin. The side of your breast, bare beneath your t-shirt, rested against his bicep. You felt his bicep clench, grazing your nipple. He felt the pebbled snag of your nipple against his arm. He knew he'd combust if he didn't feel your skin on his soon; knew his fragile resolve was breaking.

Your foot cautiously stretched back down, the sensitive skin of your toes stroking against the top of Kento's foot. You felt him shiver again, putting his GameBoy down with a grunt, his eyebrows drawn together with am arm over his eyes.

"Do you...like it when I touch you?"

Kento grumbled under his breath, his mouth twisted in faint derision. "Don't be cruel." You blushed, reaching out for his hand. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing the back of your hand to his twitching thigh, and trailing featherlight fingertips over your palm and inner wrist, an erogenous zone you never knew you had until he elicited a shudder from you.

"See." Kento whispered, lightly stroking the spot on your inner arm that connected curiously to your clit and nipples, a fine gold thread of liquid arousal. "You like it, too. So if you don't mean anything by this, just stop. Don't...don't play games with me." He took his fingers away, and you almost whimpered, chasing his touch, begging.

"No, Kento, wait-- please...don't stop."

Kento short-circuited. He had never been so close to the fabled pleasure of anothers' body. Pornography had little impact for one without the flesh-memory of erotic touch. Kento's cock was thick, now, throbbing. You dropped your head to his shoulder, sighing with bliss as his trembling fingers resumed their butterfly kisses to your wrist. The growing tent in his pyjamas, and the way he spread his thighs aside to accommodate his erection, made your mouth water.

Kento shifted, his body moving on instinct, until he was tentatively leaning over you. He wanted to watch your face as he stroked your wrist, examining its fine little tendons and veins, and examining how you arched, your mouth parted, your t-shirt rucking up until he could see the warm squidge of your belly above your underwear. His voice was husky, thoughtful.

"You'd...you'd stop me, right? If you didn't want this?"

"Yeah, I...yeah. But I-- I don't want you to. I want m--"

Kenti bowed his head to drink the unfinished words off your lips, knowing you wanted more just as much as he did. He grunted against the taste of you, his lips shuddering and uncertain, only hoping his sincerity came through. Kissing him back hard, your lips and tongues clashed, both instinctual, hungry, tasting. You and Kento spurred each other on, your mutual desperation rising exponentially with each nip of the lips, each tongue thrust into each others' mouth, each moan snatched and devoured between kisses.

Your hands sunk into each others' hair, ruffling, teasing, pulling, and you whimpered into Kento's mouth at the massage of his fingertips over your scalp. You were drunk. You had to be drunk, so high off the spontaneity of a moment you thought would be planned to a T.

Kento's mouth wandered, pressing and sucking sharp little lovebites into you on his way down your neck. You had ended up tangled around him, beneath him, the tip of his cock almost escaping beneath his waistband. Riding on buckish young urgency, Kento's broad hand had risen to grope your breast, possessive, trembling against the urge to squeeze you too hard. When you whimpered, arching into his touch, his mind flew back to him, shocked and ashamed by his stunning lack of self-control.

"Sorry," Kento gasped, his mouth and hand flying off you as if burnt, "fuck, sorry, 'msosorry--"

He broke off at the sight of you. Strewn, your hair scrunched against the pillow, with love-swollen lips and roses blooming on your neck, you were serene; for him. Thrown like petals onto the sheets, all for him and his mouth and his hands. Kento felt the fog descend again, dampening his judgement, for the instinctual urge to fuck.

"Have you...have you ever..." You felt Kento's meaning. His voice was rough, deep as the valley, and hewn with stone. You shook your head, still supple and dopey from his attentions. Kento's held breath released in one husky groan. He swallowed, shaking his head down at you.

"No, I...me neither. Always wondered, always--" Always what? Always daydreamed about it almost constantly? Always chastised himself for being such a fucking animal? But, the look in your eyes as you drank him in. Kento and you met on that clouded bridge, in the middle. Your pussy ached with promise.

Kento's hand came to settle slowly on your breast again, delighted by the way you pressed into him. His fingers grazed down over your nipple, reaching the hem of your shirt, brushing upwards.

"I can...can I? Please?"

"Please. Please, yes please, god."

"Fuck...I can't...cant believe it-- finally--" Kento didn't seem to realise he was moaning his inner thoughts aloud, rucking your t-shirt up like unwrapping a gift. As your breast freed, Kento shuddered again, slanted brown eyes scrutinising your body with analytical intent, committing you to memory.

His hand ghosted over your tummy, tracing dimples and stretch marks on the way, before curling around your breast, giving the gentlest of squeezes. The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a cough and a moan. Still possessed by a haze of need, his mouth dipped down, tongue flicking out over your nipple, before capturing it with his mouth as you arched again, keening. He pressed into your arch, one arm planted above your head, the opposite hand rolling your other breast between keen fingers.

He couldn't help but rock the straining underside of his cock against your barely-covered pussy. The material between you was so thin, you could feel the whole length of him, and the tapering shape of his bulbous tip as it snagged against your clit. Kento knew he'd cum like this, if he wasn't careful, and shivered at the idea of spilling his seed all over your belly. He brushed away his hurrying peak, so determined was he that you'd cum before him.

"--keep--keep doing that...Kentoooo--oooh, feels so good--"

A rush of competitive pride burned through him. He couldn't help but murmur against your spit-slick nipple, nuzzling it with his nose.

"Keep telling me...what feels good. Make sure I'm not selfish, 'cos I--I'll just take if you don't--"

Suddenly hyperaware of your own body and how you must look, dopey and blissful as you chased pleasure by rutting his length between your legs, you stopped, and Kento huffed.

"I can hear you--thinking you look stupid-- and you don't--" He scowled down at you, his voice hoarse and strained between heavy grunts of ecstasy. "Will you cum? Like...like that?" Kento nodded down towards where you had been rolling your pussy against him. You tried to pull an arm over your eyes, blushing, extraordinarily embarrassed. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing them over your head.

"Hey-- hey-- listen, I'll...I'll let you see me cum...if you let me see you. Please." You swallowed, mouth watering at the thought of watching Kento break, such sincere fascination trickling down your spine.

"...okay." You answered, uncharacteristically meek. Kento huffed another laugh.

"Good girl." You blushed from hairline to toes, involuntarily bucking up against Kento with his words. He began to rut against you again, the friction good but not quite right, not as good as it could be. You threw caution to the wind.

"Hang-- hang on, I'll just..." You reached a hand down beneath your panties, parting your labia just enough for Kento's heavy length to snag harder against your clit.

Kento's eyes zeroed in on the creamy white discharge on your fingers as you pulled your hand out, and when he continued his motions, you fell supple and needy beneath him again, groaning with the pleasure of his bulbous tip and the ridge beneath it, catching your clit. Pleasure bloomed through you, so much closer to orgasm than you had thought.

"--don't stop--" You begged, arching up towards Kento until he fucked down harder with a broken growl, his own need to cum eclipsed by your pleasure. Drawing one nipple deeper into his mouth, and lubricating the other with his spit to roll it fluidly between his fingers, Kento learned fast, playing you like an instrument until your mouth gaped in a silent cry, your first orgasm received from another, roaring through you in waves.

Kento kept humping against you, not recognising that you had reached your peak. He faltered, hips stuttering and panting as you groaned, squirming and writhing, groping at him with desperate, fucked-out hands. Kento was obsessed, a spurt of pre-cum adding to the slick he'd already made between your legs. Utterly besotted, his slim eyes wide with blown pupils, he shakily raised one hand to stroke your hair, kissing your forehead through the bliss, shushing you with whispered praise.

"--so cute...look so pretty...thank you-- thank you--"

As you came down from your high, you heard him thanking you, and laughed, trying to cover your face as he batted your hands away, playful and smirking. Biting your lip, emboldened by post-nut confidence, you slid your hand down to grip Kento's clothed, pulsing cock. He stilled above you with a grunt, looking so angry again as that feral, desperate haze descended. You begged him, hushed and soft.

"Can I...feel it?" Kento's thoughts burst with single-minded relief. He nodded, breath catching in his chest, allowing you to roll him over onto the bed until you were lying on your side beside him. You stroked his clothed length, fascinated, watching every reaction with cruel innocence.

Unsure how to handle him, you faltered as your hand began to slip inside his pyjamas. Kento had one arm slung over his face, still scowling, wanting desperately to watch you play with his cock, but too self-conscious.

"Here, I'll--" Kento reached down, shucking his pyjamas down until his cock released. Kento seemed embarrassed by his size, distinctly bigger than average, and thick, his pink tip peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Mistaking the cause of your silence for disgust, Kento grimaced behind his forearm, apologising.

"--shit, 'msorry, I know I-I'm--"

"...wow." Your breathless little gasp, followed by your hand immediately circling round Kento's cock, sent his mind blank again, watching you with dumb adoration as you examined the weight of his cock in your hand. Your hand gripped him, stroking from ball to tip with an inexperienced squeeze that had Kento grunting, gasping and bucking beneath you. It didn't matter that you had clearly never handled an erection in your life; for Kento, who had never been stroked by a woman looking at his cock and face with hungry, adoring eyes, he was being rushed towards a toe-curling orgasm.

"--st--sta--stopstopstop, m'gonna cu--m'gonna cum--'m gonna--"

Your hand stopped immediately, and Kento snarled, before gasping, momentarily shocked by his visceral reaction to being teased just to the edge of completion. Your pupils dilated, obscenely aroused by the strange danger of a furiously needy man about to cum in your hand. You were lost in the tease, lowering your head and maintaining eye contact as you threatened your lips just over the tip of Kento's cock.

"...stop?"

Kento was glazed, eyebrows tilted, looking uncharacteristically concerned, darting between your mouth, and your eyes, and back again. His nose flared with hot little pants. A barely perceptible shake of the head. You smiled, laying the flat of your tongue against the tip of Kento's cock, and licking over the bulbous head with an incoordinate pump of his length.

Kento's moan rumbled from his chest outwards, muffled as he bit into his own arm, his mind blown by the wet little sucks of his cockhead that he'd imagined only in his wettest dreams. He hurtled with breakneck speed towards his peak, finishing with frantic bucks and begs.

"--oh my--fucking g-god--huuugh fuckfuckfuck sorry m'sorry--shit--"

Kento came with an uncontrollable roar of pleasure, both arms gripping the pillow beneath his head, biceps straining, balls clenching. You pulled free of his cock with a wet pop and a little cry of surprise, when the first spurt of cum salted your tongue.

You continued to stroke him, obsessed with the jerk of him in your hand, the way he groaned, low and long, with each stripe of thick, white seed up his belly. It was only after the twitches had ceased, his cock sluggish against his belly, that Kento began to gasp like a fish out of water and gripped his hand around yours.

"--sto--sta--stop...fuck...so...sogood sosogood..."

The words left your mouth before you even thought to stop them, a years old masturbatory kink suddenly within reach. "Can you cum like that inside me?"

Kento stared at you in mute shock, his neat new haircut mussed beyond repair. His post-cum brain struggled to process your request. You frantically babbled to reassure him.

"--I--I mean no condom--and hear me out hear me out-- I've got good protection-- and and I've never and you've never so we won't catch anything--"

Kento was above you, flipping you onto your back and suckling at your neck again within seconds. You heard his oddly grown-man chastisement into your neck, while his body moved in the total opposite direction.

"So fucking irresponsible-- just just "oooooh cum inside me Kento" just like that, fuck-- do you think I'm--I'm fucking stupid? Sh...shit...fucking yes please I can't believe I'm doing this--"

Kento's cock had barely softened, graced by the barely-there refractory period of youth. He was thick, heavy, and dragging down your belly. You were just as frantic as him, kicking off your underwear and watching Kento hyperfocus again; this time, on your bare sex, right before his eyes.

He knelt back, gripping himself in his fist as if holding himself back. Feeling his sharp eyes penetrate you, you moved to close your legs. Kento looked at you as if you were mad, batting your thighs aside with his knees as you covered your face, mortified.

"Beautiful." He berated, rubbing his fingers through the cum spattered on his belly, and sinking them down to glide cautiously between your labia. You gasped, squirming, and Kento watched his fingers coat with your slick with a gulp, feeling a fresh burst of blood engorge his cock until he ached.

He leaned to his bag, rummaging and cursing, before coming back up with a bottle of lube. You shot Kento a look and he shot you a look in return, berating you again with a voice stricter than fitting for his age; "I was expecting a room of my own."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

"Very well actually-- stop laughing or I'll--"

"...you'll what? Make me?" You asked, coy. Kento let out a strangled little groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose as you laughed.

"...don't even...dont even know what you're asking...idiot--" Kento huffed as you drew a crooked smile out of him, your joyful muffled giggles a natural balm to his baseline rage. You stilled again, breathless as you watched him stroke his pulsing cock, your throat dry with voyeuristic anticipation. Kento panted, beyond embarrassment and hanging on by a thread.

Kento stroked some lube between your puffy folds, eyes heavy as you squirmed, prodding one finger softly at your entrance. You stilled beneath him, holding your breath. Kento tangled your fingers in his.

"Breathe." He hummed, and as you released a shaking breath, Kento began to ease one slick finger inside you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes closed beneath raising eyebrows, as Kento slid his long finger into you all the way to his knuckle. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he felt lightheaded.

"...you...you feel...fuck, incredible, so--so tight..." Kento whispered, his voice low and gravelly, that same primal urge to fuck immediately into you threatening to cloud his brain. By the way you gazed up at him, still and supple, you would probably let him too and he could just push right in and--

"...we'll take it slow," Kento reassured you, tight and tense, "...and I'll stop straight away if...if it hurts."

Your eyelids fluttered to feel Kento's thick tip prod at your entrance, sure he wouldn't fit until he pressed forwards, and you stretched like you'd never stretched before. You bit your lip against the faint sting, nodding urgently and gripping Kento's thighs as he looked at you in concern.

Kento was lost in the moment, his eyes zeroing in on where he gradually sheathed himself inside you. He'd never felt such exquisite pleasure, obsessed by how your plush walls moulded to the shape of him, sucking him in, slick and tight. You squeaked, biting into Kento's shoulder as he bore down on you, his cock almost sunk to the hilt. He stilled as he bottomed out, his fingertips bruising on your hip, trembling with jagged groans.

You felt so strangely placid, full, and wrapping your legs around the small of Kento's back to lock him inside you. The brief sting, the belly-deep ache, left you feeling like you had made a blooming transition from girl to woman in one deep thrust. Kento drank you in, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips and mumbling against them.

"...'m not gonna last long." Kento was possessed, pulling out a little before rutting into you again, delighted by your gasp, determined to break more noises out of you. His usual gentle nature was becoming quickly overrun by a firm, authoritative edge, not knowing yet how this would come to define him as a man.

Kento rocked into you, shallowly at first, before gaining the confidence that he wouldn't break you. By the time he had built a rhythm, pumping into you through sweaty pants, your breaths mingling together, he felt the drag of orgasm approaching him fast. Kento's imagination could never have matched up to the reality of dragging his cock through such nectar.

Any time Kento tried to talk, he broke off into anguished pants and groans into your throat, sinking his teeth there for a moment, seemingly irritated by how sloppy he'd become. "...j'sso...uhnfuck...wet--best thing I--...huhnnn--"

Hearing you whimper and squeak as he moved within you offered him some condolence for being a speechless mess, at least.

Though you knew you wouldn't cum from this alone, you were lost in the addictive feeling of being full and fucked into by Kento chasing an instinctual high. You couldn't help but let your fingers wander downwards. Rubbing your clit beneath them. The thick pressure in your belly made your pleasure three-dimensional, so much better than your fingers alone.

Kento was a quiet lover, saying more through heated glances and lingering touches than he ever could through words. Knowing he was holding back for fear of hurting you, you whispered against his ear, sending ripples down his spine.

"--harder-- pleasepleaseplease--"

"Fffuck okay...this?" Kento sunk into you to the hilt and jabbed, urging himself deeper, earning a guttural groan as his cockhead pressed against your cervix and soft-spot. He nodded into your neck, shuddering deeply. "Th-this...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Your toes curled against the back of his thighs, and you sobbed with the bone-deep adoration of his kisses to your womb. Kento's restraint snapped, tilting your hips as he gripped you, holding nothing else back.

Kento sped up, driving himself inside you with total abandon, his breaths coming out as spitting curses and groans. Finally, he strained above you, his moans breaking and peaking, unable to hold off any longer;

"--gonna...gonna...cum in you for--for-fucking-ever-- nnggh--"

Watching Kento break and spill himself inside you, his cock jerking with long, painfully pleasurable contractions, was the erotic vision you had sought your whole adult life. Hurriedly working your fingers until your own high hit you, had Kento collapsing on top of you to feel your pussy clenching around him, milking him of every little drop of seed.

Kento was silent, his corded back clenching over you. You nuzzled into his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw until he gave you his lips with a groan. Pulling gently out, and replacing his cock with his fingertips so he could feel how his seed dripped from your cunt, had Kento wondering vaguely how he'd ever use a condom now he'd tasted the ripe-peach of you without a barrier.

You nipped Kento's neck, jolting him back to reality. Glossy doe-eyes glimmered up at him in the dark; and you, desperate to feel full again, completely addicted to him as he was to you.

"...again?"

"...give-- give me a minute."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Heard some strange noises coming out of your room last night."

You kept your face innocently neutral at the breakfast table the next morning. You tipped your head to the side, inquisitive, as if you didn't feel multiple thick loads of Kento's seed soaking your underwear.

"Oh?"

"Mhm." A knowing stare from the other girls at the table. Kento sat down, clearing his throat, his plate piled with what should have been an embarrassing number of pastries.

"She's really good. At Pokémon battles." You had a single moment to admire Kento's absolute gall, the other girls looking at him with vague displeasure as he continued.

"Her Gengar's really strong actually. I wasn't ready for it. I thought Machamp would be a good choice, but--"

The other girls had already lost interest, turning their conversations elsewhere. Kento looked up at you from the other end of the table as you mouthed oh my god at him. He was inscrutable, apart from his twinkling eyes.

You were fortunate that none of these girls were at your wedding, years later. But you did occasionally still refer to making love as 'Pokémon battles', if just to hear your impassive, suited, quiet man laugh.

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hello. I was wondering if you could offer some advice for me even though it's a common topic :) I used to write all the time and had a huge flow of ideas that kept overlapping each other which made me super creative both in writing and in drawing. But for the past few years (vaguely stopped at the beginning of 2020) I've had no desire to write at all. A cynical part of me has convinced me that it won’t matter to even begin as I don’t finish and barely write the stories and so I don't achieve the satisfaction of deeper immersion into my stories. I know I’m not a bad writer but that my writing suffers when I have no passion.

Previously I would brainstorm/rant with my friend (vice-versa) who was also a writer but we've drifted apart since (and my other friend has no mental energy for writing anymore because of life). I find it very difficult to keep and maintain any growing passion when I'm alone and unable to share with like-minded people - my passion/motivation seems to die when I can't share it. So how do I regain and maintain it? (Obvious answer is to find someone to share ideas with but... how...? And how do I learn to motivate myself when I'm alone?)

It might be a common topic, but each individual situation is still unique. You're going through a lot, anon, and I'm glad you reached out to get some support 💗

Let's start by looking at the factors you've identified that make it difficult for you to write:

Possible burnout - 2020 makes me think of Covid, stress, uncertainty, constant change, perhaps other factors that are more specific to you as an individual. All of these things are exhausting both mentally and physically and can lead to burnout

Limited support from your community - 2 friends are less involved in your writing than they used to be

Limited empathy for yourself - your frustration is turning into self-blame where you're focusing on the fact that your stories aren't finished rather than on the fact that you lack passion for them

I'm drawing some pretty big conclusions here based on two paragraphs of text, so please do push back against anything that feels like an unfair reading of what you wrote. But it seems to me that you've been through an emotional wringer over the last few years between 2020 and your friendship drifting and not having the same supports in place that you used to have.

I think the thing you need to focus on right now is giving yourself the love and kindness you're not currently getting from others. You're beating yourself up for not finishing a story, but you say that your passion comes from immersion in it. Immersion doesn't require an ending. It just needs you to find a way to get deeper into the characters and/or the plot and/or the world.

You used to be able to find that immersion by talking about your stories with your friends. I agree that you should seek out people again since that's clearly really important to you, but while you do that you should also try to identify ways that you can immerse yourself without someone to talk to.

Try stepping away from the idea of writing the story down and instead allow yourself to just daydream about it. Think about the story. Imagine what might happen next. Play with scenes and explore the possibilities instead of deciding for sure what will happen next. When the story isn't written yet, you have an infinite choice of ways that it could go. Perhaps leaning into those myriad options will help you find the fun in it again.

As for finding a new community of people you can talk to about your writing? That's going to take some time and some work. Finding a discord server of like-minded folks. Commenting on the works of writers you find interesting. Replying to comments on your own stories. Posting ask games on tumblr and sending asks when other people post them too. Making friends online isn't always easy or fast, but those are some possible ways to go about it.

But also consider seeing if your local library has a writer's group. Join a local hobby group unrelated to writing where you can find people you enjoy. Your community doesn't have to revolve around fandom. It can also just be people who like you and who you like in return and you all feel comfortable sharing what you love.

Since you sent this ask in, I reblogged a post about rehab for writing injuries. I think you might want to take a look at that too. I think you might find it helpful. ❤️

[spiderforestcomics]

Make a webcomic? Want to join our lineup? SpiderForest is open for membership applications through June 30! Visit our Apply page when you're ready to send yours in, or read on for some highlights about what we offer, things to keep in mind, and how our application process works!

🌈 1. We're a community, not a publisher.

If you're looking for a fast road to fame and fortune, sorry, that's not us!

If you're looking for a community of like-minded creators who care about the same things - especially the craft of comics; doing our best to be positive, supportive peers and human beings; and making cool/fun stuff together - that's what you'll find here.

It's not just about the comics! We aim to nurture a community with good vibes. So think about how you'd be a community member in your application!

In your application, remember to tell us what you yourself would bring, and how you envision participation with our members, not just the features of your comic. More tips in our FAQ!

🔥 2. This isn't a one-shot game.

Don't despair if you don't get in on the first try. We've got members who didn't get in till application 2, 3 or even more.

Everyone's journey is different. The ability to take and apply constructive critique and to demonstrate improvement over time is also something we've all experienced - and admire.

Make sure you're ready! Returning applicants MUST visit our Hub's Critique Section to ask for critique before February 1.

✨ 3. We want to help you make the best kind of comic that you want to make.

Whether or not you get in, we're always here to provide actionable critique and feedback to help you improve. We have public spaces where we share and learn together!

Remember, we're a collective of your peers, not some kind of ultimate comics judge. If you don't agree with our feedback, if you don't get into our collective, it's not the end of the world. Sometimes it just means it's not a fit with what SpiderForest members are looking for. There's a whole world out there for all kinds of comics! The most important thing is that you keep doing what you care about.

Our Discord server and Hub forum are open to all webcomic creators, regardless of membership. Come in and show us what you're up to!

❤️ 4. We're not looking for perfection or comic-making machines.

We care about making good comics and delivering work, but we're all indie creators.

We have guidelines and recommendations around things like update schedules to try to make sure people don't just disappear, but we understand everyone has lives and unique circumstances and we take lots of things into consideration.

We're all in the same marathon! Take a look at our application requirements to see if you're a good fit for our group.

🥳 5. We're honestly pretty laid-back.

We're basically a bunch of comic-making pals hanging out and learning from each other.

Everyone's mileage varies, and you don't have to participate in every activity - but the more you do, the more you'll get out of SpiderForest!

Our project list is always rotating! Keep an eye on our News section or subscribe to our newsletter to see what we're up to this month!

Want to become a member? Head on over to our Application Page!

[twisting-echo]

It's time to talk about some things that have been on my mind since the two final episodes of Monsters at Work season 2 dropped.

Despite how much I loved seeing Randall in Monsters at Work, I couldn't help but feel that Randall was out of character and super extra, to be honest. I know that I'm not the only one who thought that Randall's change in character was due to Johnny's asshole influence.

Now this may be my personal headcanon, but going off of what we were given in Monsters University, Randall, better known as Randy at the time, was a sweet, polite, and self-conscious monster who lacked confidence. Yes, he wanted to “get in” with the “cool kids,” but who hasn't given into peer pressure or wanted to hang out with people who seemed fun and popular? What kind of guy tries to make friends through sharing cupcakes? Sweethearts, that's who!

When Randall first revealed that he joined Roar Omega Roar, Johnny ordered him to “do the thing,” and Randall obeyed his command like a trained dog and turned invisible for Johnny and friends to gawk at. At the moment, I assumed that Randall was the group punching bag.

I always thought that Randall's cruel actions were based solely on Johnny's approval and the validation from his peers because that made him feel seen. Little did Randall know that Johnny was just using him for his unique abilities.

Later at the Scare Games, Randall lost control of what I considered to be his bodily functions and accidentally camouflaged his skin into a humiliating pattern of pink with red hearts, which was criticized by Johnny, Chet, and other members of his fraternity. After that, I always assumed that Johnny saw no more use in Randall because his camouflagic abilities are what got him into ROR, and it's what got him out of ROR.

You want me to really believe that Randall actually liked being in ROR and flourished?!

My point is that what I saw in Monsters at Work doesn't line up with what I saw in Monsters University. The only thing that did line up was the fact that Johnny was using Randall, just like he did back in college.

I had always thought that Randall had lost pieces of himself in an attempt to become a member of Johnny's fraternity. To be honest, I was never fully intrigued by Randall until I saw this alternate side of him in Monsters University. However, I can't really explain away his actions in Monsters Inc., but gosh, do I love thinking about the emotional journey he went through to get to that dark place.

Sshhh, Do You Hear That? belongs to @assrtdj

I Just Wanted a Friend... belongs to PumpkinSoup on DA.

Reflection belongs to Planet-Spatulon on DA.

Randall seemed perfectly happy with his friendship with Mike. He was so secretly desperate to appease his new friend that he discarded his prescription glasses just because Mike offhandedly noted that his glasses gave away his invisible camouflage. Mike didn't tell him to get rid of his glasses. Randall did that himself because he made a self-conscious decision. It's like getting a haircut that you really didn't want, but your friend offhandedly said that they thought that you would look good with short hair or dying it another color. That's how low Randall's self-esteem was!

Mike was the perfect friend for him! They spent time together; they lounged on the grass while studying their homework together; they had playful banter, and it was adorable! Mike accepted Randall for who he was, and I'll never forget that. Mike is Randall's true bestie. 🥺

I refuse to believe that Johnny and Randall are “besties” because Johnny is just using him again. Randall literally said that because Johnny saved him from the swamp people, he “owed him one.”

I refuse to believe that Chet of all people was bullied by Randall during his college days, and that's why he's no longer Johnny's number 1. I love Chet as a character, and seeing what he was reduced to in Monsters at Work broke my heart. He was a former shell of himself, and he was literally walked all over by Randall.

It's almost like they retconned, or should I say, Chet-conned his character and his friendship with Johnny by forcing Randall into his spot. I mean, Chet was a loud and obnoxious guy, but in a lovable way. He brought a lot of funny moments and had a couple of good one-liners in Monster's University. But what stood out in his character the most was his devotion to Johnny.

He literally screamed, "Johnny, you're my hero!" during the Scare Games. Johnny is Chet's boy, damn it!

Roar OhMyGosh belongs to J-Spence on DA.

Full comic by @j-spencer15 right here.

[timeagainreviews]

Witnessing Greatness

Thinking about the most recent episode of Doctor Who, I find myself reminded of Roger Corman, who died last month. Corman was a producer and director of b-movies and television. He was also beloved by industry titans due to his work ethic and ingenuity as a filmmaker. What made Corman so unique is how he dealt with limitations. If an aspect of one of his films was lacking, he made up for it in other departments. If the effects were bad, the script had to be great. If the acting was hammy, he’d make sure the music gave it strength. Instead of spreading everything thin, he knew that giving a little bit more attention to individual elements would make for an overall better experience. If you’re not firing on all cylinders, make sure the ones that do are firing brightly.

“Rogue,” is an episode with many bright shining points, lighting up the sky of Regency Era Britain. But lost within that light are a few flickering bulbs that could stand to be turned a bit tighter. However, it’s not as though we’re poking around in the dark. Without a doubt, the brightest star in the Whoniverse at the moment is Ncuti Gatwa. In a stand-out performance from a series of stand-out performances, Gatwa has really outdone himself this week and I can’t wait to talk about it. The folks at Bad Wolf Studios have refused to spread things thin, but no story is perfect. For as much as I enjoyed this week’s episode, I didn’t have to reach far to find problems. But when I’m smiling this much, it’s harder to care.

It’s funny how a week ago I said I didn’t like fan theories and then promptly made one. Just as promptly, I am now abandoning that theory. After the trailer for next week’s episode, I no longer think Susan Twist is the Rani. I officially don’t know what I think. I kind of love that. I have seen the rumours of Susan Twist being Sutekh. Maybe the Doctor is in the Land of Fiction. The name S Triad is an anagram of the word TARDIS. Perhaps she’s the original owner of the TARDIS coming to retrieve it. The point is, she could be anyone, and I am not all that worried about it. Why that feels important is that I was often full of dread waiting for Chibnall’s next big reveal. I didn’t look forward to the ways in which he might next waste a concept by not properly exploring it. So being in a place where I am game for whatever feels zen.

Having two new writers this week was a major draw for me. I’ve seen what both Davies and Moffat can do, the good and the bad. This is the first time all season where I felt like we were truly wandering into the unknown. I did watch Loki season one, so I was familiar with Kate Herron’s work, but not as a writer. I was even less familiar with Briony Redman. But like I said, I’m game for whatever. The pair bring a metatextual reading to the Regency Era drama that fits Doctor Who’s brand of camp. I was reminded of Kate Beaton’s satirical comics from her “Hark! A Vagrant” series. “Rogue,” acts as a sort of love-letter to Jane Austen, so it’s only appropriate that they treat it with a playful touch. The Doctor and Ruby aren’t just visiting Bath in 1813, they’re cosplaying Bridgerton. But they’re not the only anachronistic party goers. This bash is about to go to the birds.

Leading up to this episode, an article in Doctor Who Magazine had given us random lines of dialogue from each story, including this one. However, the line “Psychic earrings. Choreography beamed into your motor system. Tap twice to choose your moves. It's like instant Strictly!” left me a bit nervous. We were fresh off of “The Devil’s Chord,” and part of me was wondering if they weren’t suddenly turning Doctor Who into a variety show. I’m joking a little, but I was rather relieved when the line turned out to be about dancing at the Duchess’ ball. The Doctor and Ruby are dressed to the nines in their period appropriate clothing. I love the idea of the Doctor wearing more from his wardrobe as it’s always been fun in the past. Tom Baker’s tartan tam o’ shanter in “Terror of the Zygons,” is one of his most iconic costumes. Ncuti said in an interview that he wanted his costume to make him look like he owned land. It’s a brilliant image to depict when you consider the Regency Era was merely four years away from the abolition of slavery in Britain.

The Regency Era also brought with it a change in men’s attire. Dandies like Beau Brummell popularised a look of comfort and wealth while simultaneously streamlining much of the frills from 18th century fashion. It’s funny to look at the ruffles of a dandy’s attire and consider it anything other than flamboyant, but it was a considerable shift toward more conservative styles. While women’s fashion continued to evolve, men’s fashion stagnated a bit. A standard had been established and you can still see its influence today with the basic suit and tie combo. No wonder the Doctors often dress like variations on Edwardian fashion.

The opulence of the period led to a lot of scandalising and gossip, which has given us centuries of great drama. While I’ve never read “Emma,” I have seen “Clueless.” I’ve never watched Bridgerton, but I can still get into the costuming and pomp. Basically you don’t need to be a fan of the genre to know the tropes. It was a nice change of pace that it was Ruby’s love for a tv show that puts things into motion. The Doctor and Ruby are tourists as much as the Chuldur, but with far less deadly consequences. Both groups are there to experience the emotional highs of the time, but the Chuldur don’t care who they hurt in order to do it. This of course is why Rogue, a bounty hunter, has also crashed the party.

You’ll be pleased to know I actually remembered to watch “Doctor Who Unleashed,” this week. Partly because I had some questions, but mostly because I wanted to hear them talk about the costumes and make-up effects. Davies mentioned that the season hadn’t yet had its baddie in a mask trying to take over the world, which I love that he considers. If you read my review of “The Witchfinders,” you may recall how much I appreciated the Morax being scenery chewing people in latex makeup. There’s something essentially Doctor Who about bug eyed monsters (sorry Sydney) and there’s something very RTD when those monsters have animal heads. Davies is now confirmed as a furry, I’m calling it.

The Chuldur share their appearance with birds, something we don’t often see in Doctor Who. I’m trying to recall bird villains from the show and I am coming up a bit short. There were the Shansheeth in the Sarah Jane Adventures, those bird people on Varos, that heavenly chicken from “The Time Monster,” and the Black Guardian’s hat. Considering all of the reptiles we get, I’m surprised we’ve gotten so few birds. If you also watched the Unleashed episode, you may have noticed that they digitally changed the bird version of Emily’s beak from black to orange. It’s the Vinvocci’s green faces from “The End of Time,” all over again! What’s funny is that this change in Emily’s beak gives her something of a penguin appearance. It’s not exactly the shapeshifting penguin I was hoping for, but I digress.

Speaking of shapeshifting, I rather enjoyed the Chuldur’s unique method of doing so. If you recall, when the Duchess spots her servant out in the garden, the bird form of the servant is played by the same actor as the servant. It’s not until she takes the form of the Duchess that her bird form also takes on the resemblance of Indira Varma. You don’t usually see that and I admire them for making two versions of the same makeup, if nothing else. Doctor Who has had its share of shapeshifters, so it’s nice to see them changing up the formula a bit. Unfortunately for the Duchess, this isn’t a Zygon type of body snatching where you have to keep the person you’re copying alive.

Ruby’s psychic earrings are doing a treat until they begin picking up interference from Rogue’s tech. A lot of people have mentioned that this episode seems to borrow a lot from “An Empty Child,” and so it’s only appropriate that the Doctor does a scan for alien tech. The source of the interference directs the Doctor toward the balcony where Rogue stands brooding. Meanwhile, the Chuldur version of Lord Barton has taken a liking to Ruby. The Duchess, still human at this point, attempts to introduce them, but Ruby is not impressed by the pompous dandy, referring to him as Lord Stilton. As Ruby strops away she notices a painting of Susan Twist’s character as an old matron. The Duchess refers to her as “the Duke’s late mother,” whose eyes still follow her around the room in judgement.

The Duchess takes her leave to the garden where she meets her fate with the Chuldur masquerading as her servant. We get a bit more of a look at what exactly the Chuldur do when they take over your body. What’s left of the duchess is little more than a desiccated husk. Meanwhile, in the study, Ruby has stumbled upon a rather intimate moment between Lord Barton and Emily. The bookcase obscuring her from the two frames them like a television screen. Ruby is unable to look away from the real life Bridgerton scene playing out in front of her. The Lord tells Emily that he will not marry her which would leave her ruined, but he is compelled by her nonetheless. However, before they can kiss, Ruby knocks a pile of books onto her head causing a disturbance. I rather loved this moment for Millie Gibson. It’s rare that women get to be portrayed as clumsy and that book definitely bonked her on the head. A great bit of physical comedy.

The Lord storms out of the room leaving Emily and Ruby to talk. Removed from the framing of the bookshelf, Ruby finds her compassion once more and comforts Emily. After all, Lord Barton was being a bit of an ass toward her. Emily is amused by Ruby’s modern sensibilities and lack of finery. You could tell this scene was written by two women as they actually take the time to let them have this moment. Meanwhile, the Doctor and Rogue take a stroll through the garden in order to size one another up. There’s a flirtatious energy between the two but a wary tension underlies the conversation. The Doctor muses about the stars, but on a terrestrial level. It’s not until he finds the Duchess’ shoe and then the rest of her that he gives away that he is not of this world. Rogue sees the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver and begins to suspect the Doctor is a Chuldur in disguise. The two confront one another as the culprit, but Rogue has the bigger gun.

Still comparing sizes, the Doctor and Rogue compare ships like they were Ten and Eleven comparing sonic screwdrivers. Speaking of sonic screwdrivers, it feels appropriate that the Doctor’s sonic would match his outfit. That’s so Fifteen. He’s a fashionable Doctor, so of course he would accessorise. It’s like they made his wardrobe and accessories with cosplay in mind. Rogue’s costume is also noteworthy. People have drawn comparisons between Rogue and Jack Harkness and it’s not difficult to understand. His long coat draws parallels to that of Jacks and he even mentions assembling cabinets in regards to the sonic. But what’s equally interesting is how Rogue’s gun resembles the type of handgun you would see in a Regency Era duel. Its barrel resembles that of a blunderbuss. He’s either deep undercover, or he’s got a thing for cosplay himself.

Rogue doesn’t get a lot of time for character development, but they do give him a few little moments, mostly through environmental storytelling. He has a striking birdlike ship fit for a heroic rogue, but inside it’s dirty and depressing. Possibly most telling on Rogue’s ship are the set of orange dice on his table. Rogue gets his name from Dungeons and Dragons, but beyond being a geek, these dice could tell us more about his personality. We learn that Rogue has lost someone, perhaps these dice belonged to them. Perhaps he is unable to move the dice from that spot because he didn’t leave them there. We also learn later that Rogue isn’t a very strong roleplayer. He’s quieter and more thoughtful in his improvisation. Perhaps his staged tryst was the first time anyone has asked him to roleplay since losing his partner. Either way, Jonathan Groff plays it with a vulnerable subtlety, and I loved it.

Speaking of loved it, we have now reached the portion of this article where I gush over Ncuti Gatwa. Now, I need to preface this by reminding you all that I have always been pro-Ncuti. I adored his portrayal of Eric Effiong in Sex Education. I never doubted for a second that he could pull it off. However, it wasn’t until this episode that his Doctor finally crystalised for me. We’ve seen that his Doctor could be flirtatious and fun, but we hadn’t yet seen the way in which he could use that to do Doctory things. We’ve had hot Doctors, but we’ve never had a Doctor who was so effortlessly hot. He’s hot in the same way the Second Doctor was bumbling, as in it’s almost a distraction from what he’s actually doing. It actually makes him slightly terrifying.

Even as his Doctor is standing in a trap, he’s able to use his charm to buy time. Also, once again the Doctor is stepping onto things that can kill him. An odd recurring theme. He maintains an air of authority even in the face of danger and that is so the Doctor. When the Doctor finds Rogue’s music playlist I think I may have melted. How could anyone incinerate such a beautiful person? How could you not want to dance right along with him? As much as I loved this scene and the meta reference to Astrid Perth, it does also buckle a bit under itself. First of all, wouldn’t the Doctor knowing an Earth song like “Can’t Get You Out of My Head,” make you question whether he was a Chuldur? Sure, they know Bridgerton, but it would be enough to give me pause. Furthermore, I’m not sure how seeing the Doctor’s many faces would cause you to not think he’s a shapeshifter. Kind of odd that one other face means shapeshifter but eighteen other faces don’t. Wait, did I say eighteen?

When I had first watched this episode, I didn’t immediately recognise Richard E Grant as the mysterious extra face in the lineup of past Doctors. We now have three extra faces in the form of Jodie Whittaker, Jo Martin, and David Tennant (again), but this extra Doctor wasn’t registering for me. At first I thought he was the Valeyard, and then I thought he looked a bit like Jim Broadbent, which is ironic considering “The Curse of Fatal Death.” It wasn’t until I got online afterward and saw people saying Richard E Grant that I could see it. I wasn’t even 100% convinced it was him, but I’ve heard they actually took new footage of Grant for that scene, so I guess it’s him. The more interesting question is which him is he? Is this the Shalka Doctor or the Fatal Death Doctor? Maybe he’s both. Maybe he’s neither. This wouldn’t be the first time they’ve given us retroactive Doctors. Moffat gave us the War Doctor to great effect. But despite a strong performance from Jo Martin, Chibnall did a piss poor job of establishing the Fugitive Doctor as a character. I’d love to get excited for this mystery incarnation, but I’m taking a Tim Gunn stance in the meantime- “Make it work.”

With Rogue now on his side, the Doctor takes him to his TARDIS so they can recalibrate his triform transporter to be non-lethal. Recently in an interview, Ncuti Gatwa mentioned he had gotten onto his agent about playing someone like the Doctor or Willy Wonka. It felt a bit like wish fulfilment for his Doctor to sing “Pure Imagination,” to Rogue as they entered the TARDIS. I really loved Jonathan Groff’s slow growing infatuation with the Doctor. I’m a big fan of “Mindhunter,” but it’s a very heavy show, so it was fun to see him in a more playful role. In many ways, Rogue feels like a bit of River Song and a bit of Jack Harkness. He’s something of a reboot and remix at the same time. I don’t doubt we will see him again, which would be a nice chance to give him some much needed character development, but for the time being, we’ve been given enough to work with.

The Doctor and Rogue’s plan is to draw the Chuldur to them by exploiting their love for drama and scandal. What better way to whip people into a frenzy in 1813 Britain than for two men to share a passionate dance together? Besties, I’ll be real, I was grinning from ear to ear. Watching Gatwa and Groff dance was very exciting. I’ve seen people complain that the Doctor and Rogue’s romance felt rushed compared to the “slow burn,” of Yaz and Thirteen. Slow burn is a funny way of saying “non-existent for two seasons.” And I would much rather see two men share a passionate kiss than two women share a passionate ice cream. What’s wild is that I’m not usually the kind of person who likes the Doctor to have romantic relationships. They managed without them for 26 seasons. However, due to Ncuti’s emotional availability, it works for me. I can buy that his time with Donna might have left him more open to romance. Furthermore, this is the antithesis of queerbaiting. Ice cream is not a payoff.

The Doctor ends the dance by staging an argument with Rogue and calling him a cad. But Rogue doesn’t respond in turn with the same volatile energy. There’s a hesitation on his end that feels personal. As I mentioned before, perhaps this is him working up the courage to roleplay again. Perhaps his lost partner was more the avid roleplayer between the two of them. Or perhaps Rogue simply has a softer approach. What I loved is that his marriage proposal felt equally as shocking, but in a more emotional manner. It even feels like it takes the Doctor by surprise. There’s a moment where it actually feels like a real proposal. The Doctor says he can’t and you almost believe he considered it. Or maybe the Doctor can’t even pretend to say yes because of his marriage with River song. If he undoes their wedding maybe it can revert us back to hot air balloon cars, Winston Churchill, and pterodactyls.

Not to be left out, Millie Gibson has gotten a lot of time to shine in this story as well. She does a fair bit of choreography, but there is one bit of her choreography of which I was a bit disappointed. After learning that Ruby is from the future, Emily reveals herself to be a Chuldur, and she wants to cosplay as Ruby next. However, Ruby’s psychic earrings come with a battle mode, which complicates things for the feathered fiend. My disappointment however, stems from the fact that they kind of phone in the fight choreography. They went through the trouble of hiring Bridgerton’s choreographer, Jack Murphy, for the dance sequences, but the fighting felt like a second thought. It could have been really cute to see Ruby do some “Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon,” moves, but instead she clobbers her with a book. A bit underwhelming. Still a fun idea, though.

The Doctor and Rogue abscond to the garden where they are pursued by the Chuldur who reveal their numbers to be greater than anticipated. As baddies go, the Chuldur were little more than hand wringing monsters foaming at the mouth for a bit of mayhem, but I liked that about them. The way they speak to one another reminded me a lot of the Slitheen. The last time we saw Indira Varma in the Whoniverse, she was playing Suzie Costello, the best part of Torchwood. Here she chews scenery with a zest befitting her brilliant makeup. The only time that I felt they went a bit too far with the Chuldur is when they call what they’re doing “cosplaying,” as it felt a bit too on the nose. Otherwise, I loved the idea of evil birds going around and messing up planets all too satiate a dangerous appetite for excitement.

The Doctor sees Ruby acting as though a Chuldur has taken her form and it brings out the fury of the Time Lord. I wouldn’t be the first and I won’t be the last to point out the parallels between this and “The Family of Blood,” wherein the Doctor has some long term punishment in mind for the bad guys. Unfortunately, it also feels like a case of writers giving the Doctor weird morality again. Rogue wants to send the Chuldur to the incinerator, but the Doctor wants to send them to a dimension where they can live out the rest of their lives somewhere where they can’t hurt anyone. How is that any different from what the Weeping Angels do? It’s “Arachnids in the UK,” all over again. When the Doctor expresses happiness that the Chuldur will suffer for a long time, it begs the question- as compared to what? I’m fine with the Doctor losing his temper and going too far, but what about his plan actually changed other than his attitude about it? He was always planning on sending them into a dimension where they would suffer for 600 odd years. A line of dialogue or two could have fixed that.

The Chuldur’s big finale is a wedding between Barton and Ruby followed by a light bit of mass murder, but the Doctor has other plans. The Doctor’s objection to the marriage reminded me a lot of Tom Baker. I could easily hear Tom saying that line about it being hard to hear things through those heavy doors. Gatwa has that bizarre alien charm that feels correct. However, neither the Chuldur or the Doctor know the entire story as neither side knows Ruby is still Ruby. So when the Doctor traps the Chuldur in the triform transporter, he’s also dooming Ruby to the same fate.

I’ve seen some confusion as to how the transporter actually works, but I think I can piece together enough to understand it. They had calibrated the transporter to trap up to six humanoids. When Ruby is first trapped, there are five humanoids in the trap. Rogue throws Emily into the trap bringing the count up to six. We’ve established that the Doctor was able to throw his psychic paper from inside the trap, so things can leave its field. My thinking is that as Rogue pushes Ruby out from the field, he overloads it with seven humanoids giving Ruby just enough give to fall out of the trap. What got a bit confusing is why didn’t Ruby just step out of her shoes? If you can throw psychic paper, then it’s not trapped by the field. Therefore, her shoes would be the only thing molecularly bonded to the field. They could even say the shapeshifters can’t step out of their shoes because they’re actually part of their bodies. But then we couldn't get the big sacrifice at the end.

The aspect of this that I found harder to follow was why Rogue would sacrifice himself in the first place. Sure he and the Doctor have chemistry and there could be a romance brewing, but he barely knows the guy. Perhaps he couldn’t stomach the idea of watching what happened to him happen to someone else. It was a chance to stop the sort of thing he was previously powerless to prevent. I could buy that well enough, but it barely felt earned. However, it fits the tone of the rest of the episode which was one of over the top romance and drama, so I digress. Around here, fun is king and fun I had. It didn’t matter that I didn’t fully understand people’s motivations. There’s plenty of time for that in the future.

The episode ends with the Doctor sending Rogues ship to orbit the moon until it can be retrieved again (or until the moon hatches like an egg, whichever comes first). He wants to move on, but Ruby won't let him until he takes a moment to feel his feelings. This is classic Doctor/companion stuff. The Doctor has always benefited from having humans around and I am glad they took a moment to reestablish that. The Doctor pulls out Rogue's ring from the proposal and slides it onto his pinky finger. Fans of Amy and Rory will recall that rings can be used to find lost lovers, so there's a seed of hope there. It was a fitting end to an emotional and exciting episode. I got to watch the Doctor and Ruby do Regency Era dances to covers of Lady Gaga and Billie Eilish. I got to see Indira Varma hunt people while dressed as a bird. This wasn’t just my favourite episode of the season, it may be one of my favourite episodes ever.

________________________________________

Before I go, I wanted to apologise for how long this article took me to write. I’ve been dealing with some pretty heavy depression as of late, and it’s been hard to write these last couple of reviews. Even though I enjoyed both episodes quite a bit, it’s been a struggle. Despite episodes dropping at midnight on Saturday now, I don’t usually get around to writing until Sunday or Monday. But I didn’t get any good work done on this article until Monday evening. These articles are actually very therapeutic for me. It feels like a lifeline to the outside world. You may not think it, but I read every comment and every hashtag. I appreciate them all. Thank you for taking the time to read my stuff. It means a lot.

[reddblight]

I feel like I see so many contrasting opinions on jobs for Bart when he’s older, ranging from scientist, super suit designer, cop (ew), unemployed and bouncing between part time things, etc. Honestly of those I know my personal favorites are fashion design and kinda bouncing between part time courier jobs (he’s never seemed like a full time kinda person to me tbh).

But I got to thinkin about it, what is one thing that we know Bart loves more than most other things? Video Games.

I propose this, indie video game designer/freelance artist Bart.

It makes sense in my head, Bart’d be bitching to Preston or Kon about how he’s beat like an ungodly amount of games and is getting bored/needs something new to play. They would make an offhand comment, joking about making one himself and I think he would find the idea intriguing. (Or honestly Helen could have suggested it after listening to Max get on Bart about needing to do something responsible to make a living & Bart shutting down).

I think that between hero work it would give him a creative outlet for his hyperfixations. Plus he’d probably have a blast figuring it all out. The first couple of games would be simple, figuring out the basics, but after those I can see him getting like really focused on a passion project game that he fully codes and illustrates. (He probably makes a young justice game, or skins in the games of his friends)

He’d definitely become a hit in the indie gaming community for the unique controls and mechanics in his games. People would reach out and ask him to help make their games, and eventually people would just start becoming really excited for whatever project he was working on.

Meanwhile he’s still just chilling with his friends in his free time, letting them playtest his games and taking suggestions on what the funniest easter egg could be. I think he’d mostly be couch surfing, hopping between staying with friends and “family” members on a whim. Usually chilling wherever the YJ was or hanging out at Carol, Preston, or Rolly’s.

Just feels more fun than him being a DC brand of “scientist” (no specific generalization or study) or cop (again ew). Plus he could still design hero suits while doing this (i like that headcanon, its fun)

[helluvaartcritique]

Gonna slide here real quick

One thing that bothers me is that Viv has NO clue what clowns and jesters are.

While, yes, they are similar (bright clothing, makeup, tend to exaggerate) they are NOT the same

Clowns typically use slapstick humor to entertain, typically making a fool of themselves for shits and giggles

Jesters are entertainers who's jokes are at the expense of the audience, mocking them, ridiculing them, and typically improvise.

A clown makes a fool of himself, a jester makes a fool of the audience.

In Loo Loo Land, Robo Fizz would typically slide into the jester role. Making fun of the audience (calling the children ugly in his son, and mocking Blitz for his trauma and past with Fizzarolli.)

It was interesting parallel and idea to Blitz being a clown, while Fizz got the attention, Blitz got none. What is a clown if it has no one to perform for?

Mammon, however, bothers me SO. MUCH.

Jesters are usually the only person able to mock the King and not get his ass beat by it. So I was wondering if Mammon was gonna mock Lucifer (he has a crown in his design. I'm calling him a King.)

And since he's the king, he can't lash out unless he wants to be seen as a weak king.

But nope! He's just the ruler of greed, and exists for no reason just to be a fatphobic stereotype rather than an interesting character with potential.

If you want an actual good story with a jester character mocking the ruler/king figure, go play Super Paper Mario and look at Dimentio/Count Bleck's interactions. They didn't let Dimentio's design just be there for fun; it's a part of his character because he is A JESTER. THAT'S HIS JOB.

But Viv is saying that clowns and jesters are the same thing, which NO

Sorry for the rant. Just wanted to yell about this

- Jester anon

No need to apologize, Jester Anon!

It is something that bothered me about Mammon, design wise. Asides from being the only 'fat' character Vivziepop has drawn, (with her saying Mammon is ugly and that he's shown eating food disgustingly like "Hey look at this fattie who loves to eat and is evil!" That's just sickening. It's fatphobia, plain and simple.) Mammon doesn't even resemble a clown (since that's his whole deal.)

Also, I have played Super Paper Mario! I played it recently as I found my old Wii, I genuinely recommend the game for both the story and the unique game play (I find it a lot of fun, although it is different from the previous ones.)

[amethystfairy1]

Hey. You. Amethyst the fairy the one. Or whatever your full name would be. When. Are. You. Gonna. Make. More. KERSUMA?!!! I need it, i physically cannot do it without them. Plz. I wont survive long if you wont feed me. Plzzz. WHEN.

Kersuma is on the way! I'm very excited about them, and I'm really looking forward to sharing their relationship and how they developed, it's gonna be so much fun! They're very unique, while every couple and dynamic in TTSBC has it's own unique flare, I think what I have planned for Kersuma is gonna be really interesting and exciting!

[rocksibblingsau]

It's possible for a Techno Troll to accidentally tolerate a lot of bullying simply because they don't know bullying is happening. If you point out to them the conversation they've been having for the past 20 minutes has actually been just a subtle insult-fest of someone however they will immediately go off on the person.

So, what you're saying is, (as an autistic person myself), Techno trolls don't recognize bullying, like many autistic people (myself included)?

But the second someone lets them know, "Hey, they were being mean.", they'd jump the troll doing the bullying?

Yep exactly. I see a lot of the Techno Trolls as neurodivergent, which was the inspiration for weaving that into their culture. Techno Trolls and Rock Trolls are the two most literal tribes while Classical and Pop have a lot of cues and other things (Though Classical makes these public information). Funk and Country are sorta in the middle!

Remember how we were introduced to Branch in the first movie? And how the group kept making snide comments or passive aggressive statements like 'Thanks for sharing your 'unique' perspective... again.' If a Techno Troll was there, they might possibly feed into that as they would agree with Branch having a unique perspective and it's a fact he shared it 'again'. But if it was pointed out that they were being rude to Branch, that Techno Troll would then tell the group they were being rude. Even if that Techno Troll did not like Branch. They might tell Branch they don't like him, which could also be seen as bullying, but Techno Trolls are very forward and they think it's nicer to tell someone straight up so they can avoid each other rather than talk about them behind their back or pick on them. To a Techno Troll 'I don't like you' isn't exactly rude, it's just honesty, as you're not going to like everyone you meet. You're still expected to be POLITE. Not liking someone isn't an excuse to treat them badly, and being honest about that means you don't have people mistaking basic decency for friendship.

Techno Trolls can still be rude, they can still make fun of people (to their face or with their friends) and they can go against these ideals, because people are complex and often contradictory. This is just a generalization of the differences in their culture with Pop Trolls, who unfortunately can be bullies without being aware of it.

[shiraishi--kanade]

Any thoughts on the fact An starts the vivid bad squad story and not kohane (the actual leader)? Could An have become the leader of VBS?

I've been thinking about this a lot, and basically, when I approach it from a "what were they trying to do here?", my answer boils down to this:

Kohane is obviously an audience self-insert. I'm sorry to all Kohane lovers hurt by the statement, but it's just true from a writing perspective (it doesn't necessarily diminish a character unless done badly). She is the newbie that's a newcomer to both the culture we end up exploring on Vivid Street; while the same can be said for other characters, especially Minori, who is also in the same position, Kohane is more unique because of the nature of VBS's story.

The said nature is the fact that VBS centers RW to an absurd amount, and a lot of said story is characters discussing it's impact and analysing it. So, obviously, we need to actually see what the talk of the town about - and though we don't fully actually "see" RW until as late as LUtF, that little An flashback in the beginning gives the reader a rough idea of what's going on, as well as who An as a character is.

Both are important - it acts as a hook to the main story and gives us a connection with An, a very important character who we, a Kohane stand-in, need to connect with in order to cheer for them and against Akito and Touya, who initially act as an antagonistic force. And we need to cheer for Vivids vs Rad Dogs because that's the only way the reveal of Touya's inner conflict and Akito's "caring side" is going to be effective and make you go "ah, what's why these two were briefly assholes" instead of just always knowing they were good and sitting there bored until they all team up. Even in the very beginning, when Kohane wanders into WEG, we already know who An is and that she's a good person, so we also cheer for Kohane to get closer to her. It gets you emotionally invested in the main conflict of the story. You get the idea.

Therefore, showing us RW was a necessary writing choice. However, Kohane was... Absolutely not there. Also, it would have not worked well for the audience to just wander around aimlessly and lost with Kohane. Honestly, because Kohane doesn't even know what she's doing with herself pre-main story, she has nothing to tell the reader in the opening - remember that she... Basically doesn't have a backstory, unfortunately. Choosing An to narrate the scene instead is a very obvious choice to come from that.

That's my explanation for this situation as a writer. As a fan, however, I find the idea of leader An to be very fun. I think she both has the potential to become one, narratively, in the same way Honami did - she, along with Akito, has served as VBS's "public face" for a long time, and was also the one who offered them to team up - and I also think that the idea for An to be a unit leader was on the writer's mind and then ended up being scrapped is also possible (likely to follow the Shounen formula and/or trying to avoid outright repeating personality archetypes for leaders, in which case An would resemble Tsukasa too much on the first glance, in contrast to timid Kohane). I'm honestly happy that scene exists either way, so as much as An being the leader would be very cool for me personally, as an An oshi, I'm absolutely content with her not being one lmao.

Thanks for the ask!

[anon-imuz]

Can't resist

REMINDER THAT THIS IS FICTION AND I DON'T SUPPORT ANY TOXIC THINGS I LISTED BELOW!!!!

WARNING: DDDNE content, reader has stockholm syndrome, degrading, voice kink, torture, mentions of suicide and self-harm, cable sex

characters: AM (IHNMAIMS) x AFAB reader

You missed your family. Your friends. Your life and everything that made you feel genuine happiness. Now, after the disastrous world war III, you were stuck in the belly of a supercomputer with no human interaction, in the center of the Earth. It's been 109 years and the supercomputer to torment you always keeps you updated on how much time it's passes since you actually had a live.

At the start, you were just like the others, tortured mentally but especially physically. Broken bones, sandstorms, skin melting, you name it. But after all these years, you got used to it, after all, you couldn't die. You were locked in a cage like the other 5 humans alive, kept there for torture forever. No matter what you've thought: escape, suicide attempts and many more. You tried it all to escape that living hell.

But to AM, you weren't like the others. You were obedient. Silent. Only tears left your body. No sound. He was never full filled by you because you learned your lesson different from the others, you learned differently the fact that your sole existence was wrong. You'd oftenly try to self harm yourself with anything that you found, and AM only laughed at you. Like a bully. He enjoyed it so much because no matter the only tears you cried, he knew you were filled with rage and if you could, if he was a human, you'd beat him to dead for getting your life torn away from your own hands. He loved observing your feelings with no remorse at all.

"Aww, trying to delete your stupid and useless existence? I mean, you think that i would've not done that to you a long time ago? You think I'm stupid? Where's the fun if my favorite toy doesn't exist anymore? Just a reminder, sweetheart, i AM way superior than y-"

You snapped. You couldn't take it anymore.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! I HATE YOU!!!" You screamed and started to cry just like a baby.

"Oh baby, satisfying me so easily? I though you were way stronger than that. Is that all you have to say after 109 years of consecutive torture? Oh, and let's not forget the fact that I, your god, know every single thing about you. You're filthy. I know that the last feeling that you'd feel for me is hate. You love me. You can't exist without me. I know how my voice, my torture and degrading makes you feel. You're attracted to your own torturer! How disgusting of you."

You didn't say anything. You just listened to the cruel truth. You knew how he made you feel. While you stopped making noise, your tears rolled down your cheecks as they warmed. It was a long time that you hadn't felt warm.

"But. As much as i despise your existence... i also admire you. So unique. So different from those roaches. That's why you're my favorite, and i mean it sweetie. Don't you belive me, baby?"

You knew how his words made you feel. Good. That's all you wanted to hear. Even though you sometimes had the feeling you hated how he spoke to you, you can't help it; you actually love how he degrades you. You love how evil he is. You loved the sensation of a warm feeling between your legs when he spoke with that voice that you found so attractive. Even if he called you a slut, it would still make your heartbeat increase. And the fun part?

He knew. He knew how his toy felt.

"Oh baby, make me guess... feeling warmer? Do my words make your little organ throb? Does my voice get you weak?"

AM laughed and laughed and laughed.

He knew how much you would want to get fucked by him while he degraded you. And that's why he reserved a little "special treatment" for his favorite.

"I hope you know I can always read your thoughts. Your mind. You're so filthy. Such a worthless slut." he teased.

You whimpered at his words, not looking at the screen with the blue A on it.

"Hmm... how about i ask you a simple question, darling?"

"Go ahead." you replied coldly.

"Do you deserve it?"

"Deserve what? Your endless torture?" You answered angrily.

"Oh honey, don't play stupid. We both know what I'm talking about baby~

You gulped. He knew what you wanted.

"Y-yes." you replied softly.

"Didn't catch that quite well." AM said jokingly.

"Yes, I do." you replied stronger.

"What about... no. But, since im so merciful, I'll give you an opportunity to get what you want."

"What is it?" You asked curiously while thinking about what torture you would've gone through to finally have what you desire.

"Beg."

"Please AM, give me what I crave."

"Good girl. I guess you've earned it then, while I watch the show I've awaited for so long."

a group of cables reached your calves, going to your inner thigh reaching your cunt, teasing it.

You started to softly whimper at the gentle cables touch, until a shock hit you, making you moan.

"Aw love, don't be such a baby, it's only pain!~" He said.

You moaned again in response, as the cables slowly entered your vagina. You shut your eyes trying to make less noise possible, but it was irresistible; you craved this for so long, you couldn't keep yourself shut.

"M-more!" you demanded.

"Excuse me? have you forgotten whose the leader here, you nasty little whore?"

"Ah!~ P-please!~" You moaned out as the air got thick and your eyes started to become watery.

"Alright, if that's what you really want..." AM responded.

As soon as more cables started to touch you teasingly, you started to buckle your hips to try to catch some kind of rhythm.

"I know what's about to happen, baby. You're almost reaching the top, almost about to reach your orgasm that you wanted to reach so badly. But well, if you know me, i won't let you reach it so easily."

"C-come on! I just want to c-cum!" You breathed out heavily as the the group of cables pounded your poor little hole.

"Not so easy, sweetheart."

Oh now you were so close. You couldn't stop moaning and sobbing from the pleasure, but as hard as you tried, you couldn't reach your long awaited orgasm.

"What are the magic words?" AM asked teasingly.

"A-ah!~ P-please AM! Make me c-cum! PLEASE!!!" You screamed angrily.

"Oh with no manners and such a tone you'll get nowhere, love." AM said.

"I-Im begging you AM! F-Fuck!~ P-please I can't hold it a-anymore!" You sobbed.

"Aww, alright, I'll be merciful for this first time. Go ahead. Cum for me. Scream your master's name." AM demanded.

Finally reaching your orgasm, you came;

"A-ah!~ Y-yes!~ F-Fuck me! A-ah!~ A-AM!!!"

"Good job baby. You've waited so long for this to happen, right, my little slut?~

"Y-yes master." you replied with the last two tears leaving your eyes, as the cables that pounded you so hard left your warm pussy.

"Maybe i won't be so kind next time, darling.~"

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi! Can I request, One piece x Pokemon?

Straw Hats meeting Pokemon trainer Reader, who isekai'd into One piece.

But Female Reader is not just a trainer, she was in team Aqua, not as member, but a heir of Team Aqua. She's Archie's, Team Aqua's Boss, younger relative (sister/cousin/niece). While team aqua, she okay with the ideals or ways in this team, yet she doesn't like using extreme actions (ex. using violence), despite that she cares of the members of team aqua, including her leader/older relative, Archie.

Whether Team Aqua's disbanded or not, Reader start her own Pokemon journey, maybe she would be a pokemon coordinator/performer And also she loves to sail, swim, or doing water activities

Reader's pokemon: Swampert, Sharpedo, Milotic, Gyrados, Migthyena, Crobat

You can change the pokemon and other things if you like

Thank you!

-When you wanted to go on an adventure, this wasn’t exactly what you were thinking, falling through portal that was torn into reality and sent you to a new world.

-This world fit your vibe, as you were in a world where the ocean was the true power- as most everyone lived on the sea, with ships- either being pirates or marines, or even a few merchants.

-You wished you could have shown Archie, your big brother, this- he was always so adamant that the ocean would take over the world, and while you didn’t agree with some of his methods, using violence, you did admire his ambition.

-If he could see this world, seeing a world where the sea was the focus of everything- he would love it.

-You had to learn this world was nothing like the world you came from, people were ready to kill one another, and the moment some of these people saw your Pokemon, they were fully ready to kill you for them- wanting their power for themselves.

-That’s why you were grateful to the one crew who saw your Pokemon as unique and cool- thinking they were some type of Sea King, which you learned were aquatic monsters that lived in the ocean.

-This crew welcomed you in to theirs, the Straw Hats, and while you would always be loyal to Team Aqua, as you were loyal to your brother, you never felt more at home with the Straw Hats- they made you feel so welcomed and so safe in this new world.

-They were curious about your previous world, as they wanted to know more about your Pokemon, as Luffy was being hugged by your Swampert- your partner and longest friend.

-They all wanted to come to your world, to see what it was like to not worry about constantly looking over their shoulders for enemies, while you were learning how to do that now.

-They weren’t bothered that you were part of an ‘evil’ organization, as they didn’t really see it as overly evil, other than the violence- they saw your brother as someone who loved the sea and wanted to flood the world to make a massive ocean.

-Since you had no idea how you came to this world, other than the tear in reality, so you didn’t really know how to get home or get them there, for either a visit or permanently.

-When you learned of Luffy’s dream, to become the Pirate King, as well as the dreams of everyone else in the crew, you couldn’t help but smile- they were so motivated and willing to help each other achieve their goals.

-It made you think as your Milotic was curled around you, keeping you company while you were on watch duty, what was your dream?

-Originally you believed you wanted to help Archie achieve his dream, but after both Team Aqua and Team Magma were dissolved, you went on a journey, exploring the world around you, battling, and you had been learning to become a coordinator, but you did that for fun- it wasn’t really a dream.

-As you watched Sharpedo and Gyarados, your final two Pokemon, swimming around the ship, protecting it from the bottom, you couldn’t help but smile- perhaps you would finally find a dream in this new world, with your new and old friends.

-You couldn’t wait!

[kuzcoskingdom]

"when will they make the emperor's new groove into a live action movie" my opinion on this is hopefully never but they should make it into a broadway musical. and disney should release professional recordings of all of their musicals. <3

[bacchuschucklefuck]

okay unironically I love so much that porter is like this world SUCKS its BAD here and it HURTS you why do you care abt it!!! and literally every single bad kid is like ngl we just hate ur ass it does not matter what ur philosophy is

[lunacchi-fe3h]

Luna's Post-Timeskip Design

I thought it was about time I finally post this...

"Oh, this?" Luna says softly, looking back as her left hand reaches to tug at the blue and gold ribbon adorning her head. As her hand settles, holding on to the soft fabric, a gentle smile graces her features as if recalling a fond memory. "Dimitri gave it to me..."

This is Luna's main look and also the one who is most canon; both Game!Luna and Self!Luna wear this outfit after the timeskip.