#dude already canonically wears chains

[aroaceleovaldez]

im just saying: underutilized dynamic of Nico as a hound and Jason as a wolf.

something something Jason a wolf in captivity vs Nico a hound in the wild. Jason who is forced to become a dog and Nico who is forced to become a wolf. Jason constantly seeking freedom and to return to his nature and Nico constantly seeking company and shelter and someone to be loyal to. Nico the sheepdog with the thorny collar that stabs anyone who gets too close, but his duty is entirely to protect with his life. Jason the wolf with the tracker collar being monitored his entire life, who even set free is never out of their sights. Jason the wolf who sees a reflection in Nico but they're from opposite worlds. Jason and Nico who are both canines but so very different. Nico and Jason who are both canines being forced to be something they're not. Nico and Jason who want everything the other has but know they can't. do you see my vision.

[theatrelove3000]

You’re On Your Own, Kid

This is the first Obi-Wan fic I have posted, let alone let someone other than two close friends read. It took me three months of no time, energy, or inspiration to finish this, but it’s finally done, and I am actually really proud of it. I am thinking about expanding this, depending on the time I have and the inspiration as it comes. Let me know if you like this and want to see more!

Sith! Obi-Wan x former padawan reader

Warnings: I suck at warnings. Uhhh, dark side, mentions of death, maybe manipulation, kissing but only a little, canon violence (dude gets an arm cut off), lightsabers, Sith! Obi. I think that is it. The reader was his padawan but they didn’t start training together until she was already an adult. The reader wears a dress but I don’t think I used pronouns?  Lmk if I missed anything else.

Summary: When your master suddenly falls into the darkness, you are left alone to be subject to the watchful, judging, mistrusting eyes of the Jedi Council. It’s one thing to lose a master, you’ve lost one before Obi. It’s something else to lose the man you love. Especially when you can still hear his whispers. 

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s You’re On Your Own, Kid! Recommend listening while reading this

Three months, two weeks, and six days.

That's how long it's been since you last saw Obi Wan. He'd go on missions that could be that long, or longer, but this time stretch was harder because you know he isn't coming back. Obi Wan is gone. He left the order. He abandoned you. 

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

You try to stay upset and hurt about it but it's becoming more difficult by the day. Watching your master walk away from the only home and family he ever knew was a major shock to everyone. He always preached about how the Jedi Order was good, right, and peaceful, yet suddenly, he was gone after causing quite the stir in a council meeting.

He had come back to your shared apartment and marched right over to you, grabbed you by your elbow and drew you into his chest. He was always more physically affectionate with you but this was something different. Something unsettling. He had wrapped you in a tight hug, breathing in the scent of you before dropping his head and whispering one thing in your ear. 

"My chains are broken. The force has freed me."

And then he was gone.

It was explained to you later that your master had fallen and you were to be reassigned to complete your training. You had been set to take your trials for your knighthood in a few weeks but due to Obi Wan's sudden switch to the dark side, they feared you harbored the same beliefs he revealed he had to the council. 

Your new master is… for lack of a better word, an ass. She is your third master. Your first one, who had selected you at a young age, died a few years back. Obi Wan decided to complete your training, since you were just three or four years from knighthood, already an adult. This new master is short and cold and uncaring. You had just been through a rapid and difficult transition and she held no compassion in her eyes, only wariness and dislike. She didn't trust you. 

No one did now. All the friends you had no longer speak to you because they fear you are unstable and dangerous. You never showed signs of leaning into the dark side but because Obi Wan fell, you also must be dark. His apprentice. Only Anakin still speaks to you. Occasionally, Master Yoda invites you to meditate with him as well, though you suspect he is doing so to check on your signature. Master Yoda is a kind and gentle soul but he must be wary. You understand. Sort of. 

It isn't until the heat of summer fades and cool winter winds start to blow that you start to hear him.

My darling.

Little dove.

Sweet one.

Angel.

The terms of endearment your master used to call you whisper through your mind, as though he were right behind you. You feel his presence when you're alone and see him in your dreams. You'd thought if you dreamed of him, they'd be nightmares but they aren't. They're sweet dreams. Almost memories but with slight changes.

Mornings after nightmares when you'd wake in his bed wrapped in his embrace, though he lets his hands wander more. Presses kisses to your neck and shoulders. Messing up on purpose during training so he'd have to wrap his arms around you to fix your form but he stands far closer, holding you tightly to his body. 

You knew you loved him before he left but he never showed signs of returning the feeling. It wasn't until he was gone that the signs appeared. For a while, you thought it was just your mind grieving the loss of him. That is, until he comes to you. 

~~~~~

Anakin manages to convince the council that you need to get out of the temple, take on a mission again. He's always been persuasive, though at first the council wasn't inclined to grant his request. Through many meetings and solid evidence that you're not like Obi Wan, they allow it on the condition that he keeps you in his line of sight at all times. He agrees readily and tells you to pack a bag. 

After explaining the mission, he takes you to Padme so she can help you find a dress. You're attending a gala the senate is holding in order to ease tensions, though with the way the galaxy is now it will only raise them. 

That's how you find yourself standing in a big ballroom wearing a long sleeve, floor length dress. Despite the dress still being modest compared to the other women around you, you still feel exposed. Your Jedi robes leave everything up to imagination but this dress does not. It's more form fitting and accentuates certain parts of your body in a very flattering way, while still being conservative.

"My, my. What have we here? Did you lose your way, Little dove?"

The voice makes you freeze. You spin around, looking for the owner but see no one. You shake your head, hoping to rid yourself of the panic and hope that had appeared with the voice.

"Did you stray too far from home? Do you need help finding the path?"

You know his voice better than you know your own. He's here somewhere. You can feel his eyes on you even if you can't see him.

You turn slightly, searching the crowd for Anakin. He's talking with some of the senators, Padme by his side. He's occupied.

You start walking.

Letting yourself out of the ballroom, you wander through the halls of the massive building the gala is being held in. You had seen a terrace when you first arrived and been escorted in. There it is. You open the doors and step out into the cool night air. 

You don't hear him as he follows you or as he shuts the doors to the terrace. You don't hear him take the last few strides necessary to stand behind you, closing the distance between you. The only sign that you were correct is the feeling of his hands on your hips. They're warm and strong and certain, just as they always were.

"My Little Dove." His greeting is whispered into your hair just above your ear.

"Master-"

"I am not your master any more, my darling." He interrupts you, his voice sending goosebumps down your arms. "I am simply a being you meet in your travels as a pawn in a game your side can't win. I am only a man who has missed you very dearly."

You take a deep breath, praying your voice won't shake as you respond, "you wouldn't have had to miss me if you hadn't gone."

The hum he gives in response is deep, seemingly coming from low in his chest. "It was time for me to go. I hope you can understand. Places to be and people to see, you know."

"You left me. You abandoned me like everyone else." 

He tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into them. "I did not abandon you. I never left you, Little Dove. I was always there, always watching. It may have been from a distance but you were never alone."

You try to control your emotions, keep your cool, "Your leaving the Order has shown me I have always been on my own. I didn't choose this life, Obi Wan. It was thrust upon me before I was at an age that I could understand it. I don't remember the sound of my mother's voice. I don't know my father's name."

"I didn't choose it either, darling. Very few of us did. To be entirely honest with you, I dreamed of leaving and yet I stayed. Do you know why, my Little Dove?" His fingers are tracing up your sides delicately, never straying into areas he has not gained permission to touch. 

Your voice cracks a bit as you respond, "Why, Obi?"

"I stayed because I needed to be around you. Your presence is my vise, your signature is, simply put, addictive to me. It was inappropriate for me to have the feelings I do for you while you trained under me so I kept them at bay as best I could." His nose grazes your temple as he speaks, the edge of his beard lightly scratching your cheekbone as he speaks, "I didn't do as good a job as I thought. Those around us began questioning our relationship. They said horrible things that I will never allow to reach your innocent ears. I could have killed anyone who ever said anything nasty about you. I still can. All you have to do is ask."

Your breathing falters, though you can't tell if it's from fear or shock or something else. If he catches it, he doesn't say a word. "I don't want that. Murder is still wrong, no matter where you stand politically."

"Ah, but don't you see, my Little Dove? I don't wish to kill for political reasons. I kill for you. Anyone who ever hurt you deserves to go."

"You're frightening me, Master," you whisper shakily. He responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest.

"I do not wish for you to fear me, my love. I only want to protect you, to keep you safe. I can continue to do that from afar as I have been these three months. Or… you could come with me." He keeps his voice low, fingers stroking your sides delicately.

"Where? Where would you take me?"

"Home, Little Dove. I will take you home."

You close your eyes, feeling your resolve beginning to crumble. Suddenly the warmth of your former master against your back is gone. You turn and he's nowhere to be seen. The only sign that you did not imagine it is the phantom feeling of his hands on you. 

"All you have to do is call for me, my Little Dove. I'll come to save you from your golden cage." 

Suddenly you hear your name being called. It takes you a moment to register that it's Anakin's voice. He sounds a little worried. You turn all the way around for the first time since stepping onto the balcony. You use the force to open the doors.

"I'm here, Ani"

His head snaps to face you at your voice and he quickly makes his way over to you, "I've been looking everywhere for you! What the hell are you doing out here?"

"It was a little stuffy in there. I just needed some air. I'm sorry if I worried you. I didn't think I'd be gone long." You let him lead you back inside. Instead of taking you back to the ballroom, he escorts you outside where Padme is waiting.

"It's fine. I'm just glad I didn't lose you. That… would not have looked good on me." He laughs a little, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly, "it's time for us to head out. We're going to be escorting the senator to her suite in the hotel and then going to our room."

"Yes, Master Skywalker," you bow slightly dramatically, tone dripping in sarcasm.

He laughs, rolls his eyes at your playfulness and shoves your shoulder as you start walking, both of you flanking Padme. 

~~~~~

And that's how it began.

You start answering him when he whispers into your mind. You didn't even see him that night but you know it was real. Even if it wasn't, you hope that you continue to hear him. You start feeling him as well. You even catch hints of his scent from time to time. Always when you need him the most.

Those moments became more and more common. The weight of arms around you in those few blissful moments between sleep and wakefulness make you think of him. He whispers encouragement as you train with your new master, even the occasional reminder to help you correct your form or a suggestion to make a motion easier for you. He's still helping to train you. Apparently your four years with him didn't make him sick of teaching you.

It's your next off-world mission that starts to cause your foundation to crumble.

Anakin had convinced Master Windu that he could take you off-world with himself and Ahsoka instead of being with your own master. It was a simple mission. Get into the separatist base, steal the information, get out. 

When is anything ever that simple?

Your cover was blown quickly and it doesn't take long to realize this was a trap. You are separated from Anakin and Ahsoka somewhere in the crossfire between your troops and the battle druids. You find yourself in an empty hallway alone, not even a clone behind you.

Looking around, you move back towards the way you came, only to realize you are more than a little lost in this base. You reach out your signature to find Anakin but are met with a different signature. Another, more familiar one.

Obi Wan.

Before you can take a moment to think it through, you're running towards it. You chase the warm, blue signature you've grown oh so attached to deeper into the base. When you reach a door that you can feel him behind, you pause. Pressing your palm flat against the cool metal, you reach out again. Reaching for him. He responds by tangling his signature with yours, but doesn't open the door. You hear a click and realize it's the lock. He unlocked the door. The door still doesn't open. He's giving you the choice. It almost makes you cry.

He is giving you the option to reach him. He isn't forcing you into anything, simply waiting to see how you decide. The Order never does that. All they do is command and demand and give expectations to meet. It's exhausting. You're tired. You miss him. 

"Obi?" You whisper to the door. As a response, you hear a small thud on the door as he presses his hand to it where yours is. You can feel the pressure of his power through the door. He whispers your name back to you.

"I'm frightened," you feel your eyes start to water, voice breaking softly, "I just want you."

"I know, my darling. It's alright if you are not ready yet. I'll wait for you. I'll wait an eternity for you." His voice is louder than yours, but not by much. You want to open the door but can't bring yourself to do it. He can feel it. You know he can. His signature brushes over yours gently again, soothing you. He was always good at that.

"I have to go, Master. I'm sorry. I need to find Anakin." 

"It's alright, Little Dove. I'll be with you. Always."

You nod and take another moment of weakness before pulling away and running the way you came. It takes you twenty minutes to find Anakin and Ahsoka again. As you reappear, Ahsoka crashes into you, hugging you tight.

"Are you okay!? Your comms weren't working. We've been calling you and sent troops to find you but we couldn't! What happened? Where did you go?"

You push Ahsoka back to look her into her eyes, holding her shoulders. "It's okay. I'm fine. I got lost in the hallways. The droids were coming from that way so I handled it. I just got confused on my way back to you. All the halls look so similar."

You try cracking a joke as you notice Anakin watching you cautiously. He knows something. Looking over, you cast what you hope is a charming smile in his direction. He nods and gives a small smile in return but still looks concerned, though you can't tell if it's for you or because of you. 

When you return to the Temple, the council convenes to be briefed on the mission. Anakin credits you with destroying a majority of the Droid squadron within the base. The council seems to be a mixture of impressed and put off by this news. You're not surprised.

You feel nothing for them anymore. They don't do anything but cause more problems for you and those around you. Most Jedi would say the most dangerous feeling to have is hatred. Some say anger. Others will tell you that hope is the worst thing to feel, especially in this war.

No. The most dangerous thing a Jedi can feel is indifference. Indifference causes one to not have loyalty to those they have been sworn to. With anger or hatred or even hope, it shows one still feels attached to something. With indifference, it is not so.

Your indifference is what Obi Wan was waiting for. 

~~~~~

The next mission you are sent on is the one that sends you over the edge. 

It's another gala you are to attend, this time undercover as a senator's aid. The moment you arrive, you reach out for Obi Wan. You search the room with your eyes and your signature, praying to the Maker that he is there.

As the evening progresses, you stop looking for him. You become distracted by doing your job, working the crowd and getting more information you've been sent to collect. Though the council has seemed to develop more trust in you over the last couple of months, they don't trust you entirely. You have another Jedi with you to keep an eye on you. You don't remember his name, and it doesn't particularly matter to you anyway. He's just a security measure to protect the Order. 

"Pardon me for interrupting, Senator Gunray. I was hoping I might ask this lovely young lady for this dance." His voice drips across your ears like bacta over a burn. Your posture relaxes as the senator you were speaking with bows out gracefully, promising to speak with you again later.

You turn and finally see the man you've dreamt of for five whole months, though if you're honest, it's been longer than that. He looks dashing in his white suit and cape. As your eyes trail up from his chest, you catch the hairs of his auburn beard lift as he smiles at you. You see that smile next, the shining and slightly arrogant one you grew used to throughout your few years of training with him.

He reserves this smile for you. The one that shows his pride but also a glimmer of praise for you. He softens whenever he sees you, even if it's isn't noticeable to anyone else. It always was to you. He was a good and kind master, but a better friend. In this smile, you see your friend. 

You raise your eyes to meet his and your breath catches. The cerulean ocean you are used to seeing is gone, replaced by molten gold, framed by dark lashes, which seem darker than they used to. Maybe it's just your imagination.

"Remember to breathe, Little Dove. I fear you will pass out if you don't."

You let out a small huff of a laugh as you smile and glance down to your feet. You see him lift his hand to under your chin, raising your eyes back to his. You can see him searching your face for something. He must find it or you are imagining it because he draws away again, offering you his arm to take.

"I believe I offered you a dance, my love. May I have one?"

"Yes, my lord." He leads you out onto the floor. A waltz starts not long after he pulls you into position. As you dance, he keeps you closer to his body than the other partners on the floor. You don't mind, letting yourself melt into his arms for the first time in several months.

Obi Wan was the one who taught you to dance. He had been trying to help you learn to make your movements smoother, more choreographed as you dueled. You kept making jagged, uncoordinated movements that caused you to lose your footing or leave an open spot for someone to strike. Obi had taken your Saber, tossed it and his own to the side, then pulled you in gently. He kept a respectable amount of space between you as he placed your hand on his shoulder and his own on your waist, holding your opposite hand. And he taught you to dance. Slowly, you got the hang of it and he moved back into the forms you were learning. You never lost to him in a duel again.

The dance sessions became almost a regular occurrence. He'd hug you when you were upset and slowly rock you, letting it turn into a silly little dance to make you smile and giggle. He'd kiss your head and twirl you just to make you squeal or blush. Those are his fondest memories of being in the order.

"I have a question for you, Darling."

"I will answer anything you ask of me, Darth Nighte," you respond without hesitation.

He grins widely and lets out a laugh. "You always have, haven't you? My good girl."

You blush slightly and look away from him to hide it. He doesn't like that. He lifts your chin again and raises an eyebrow, warning you not to look away again. 

"Did you pick this gown to get someone's attention?" He says it in a teasing tone but you know what he is asking. Is the dress for him?

The dress you selected for the gala was bought with what little you had saved over the years. You had gone out into the city on one of your rare days off to buy it. It was in the shop window and you'd asked to try it on. It was a long sleeved, dark blue dress with tiny gems to make it appear as though you were a part of the evening sky. It's a bit lower cut in the bust than you thought you'd be comfortable with but seeing the way he admires it, you know it was the right decision.

"I must confess, my lord. I fear I am no longer a good Jedi. You see, I find myself disagreeing with the rules and growing agitated trying to suppress my emotions. It feels like I'm being pulled down a different, new path. I can't stand the rule against attachments. I have found that attachments only make you stronger. Maybe that is what they are afraid of…" you trail off as you realize how much you spoke but he holds your eye contact and nods for you to continue. "I have found myself deeply attached to a lord at this very party and I had hoped he'd find the dress pleasing."

"I'm sure he does, my darling. Do I know this lord, do you think?" He knows. He always does.

You smile and glance around as though making sure no one was listening, "I think you know him very well, my lord." 

"Then I suppose I'll leave you to him." He starts to release you but you grip onto him tighter. He laughs again, a sound you truly and sorely missed.

Together, you and Obi Wan danced for several more songs. You talk occasionally but mostly bask in the comfort you bring each other. As the night dwindles on and draws to a close, you know you have a decision to make. A path to choose.

Obi Wan senses your panic and turmoil. He searches your eyes again before leading you off the dance floor to a little alcove on the side of the ballroom. He presses you back against the wall and lets his body tower over yours. 

"My angel, you do not have to do anything you don't wish to. I don't intend to steal you away and hide you from the galaxy. It is your decision. This is your life. Lead it how you wish to. No matter what you decide, I will always love and support you. Even if I must do so from afar." He leans down and presses his forehead to yours. You can feel the love in his signature. True love. Pure love. How can a feeling so pure be so bad? 

Lifting your chin slightly, you let your nose brush his and hear his quick intake of breath. He leans further into you slowly, giving you time to pull away from him. To say no.

You never will.

He lets his lips brush yours. It's gentle, simple, peaceful. He lets you decide how to proceed. Slowly, your hands move from where you had pressed them to his chest up into his hair to pull him closer. He hums in pleasure and pushes you further into the alcove. He kisses you the way you imagined he would. Gentle but dominant. Kind but leading. Persuasive. The Great Negotiator, indeed.

You pull away first, needing to breathe. He lets you go but keeps his forehead against yours. 

"Obi?" You whisper to him.

"Sweet One?" He responds.

"Am I ready now?"

"That, my dearest little dove, is not a question I can answer for you."

You nod, feeling the tears form. His hand is holding your cheek and jaw on one side. He can feel when they start to fall. He coos gently and pulls you into his chest, whispering reassurances and words of love.

"I don't want you to go again. It hurts when you go, my Obi." You mutter through the tears. Obi Wan pulls away enough to hold your face with both hands.

"I don't have to. You can come with me, Darling. I have a place for us. It's safe and quiet and peaceful. It's perfect. I made sure it's perfect for you. All you have to do is say yes. Little Dove, you can stay with me. Come with me."

His voice isn't commanding or ordering you. It's… begging. He's begging you to stay with him.

Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you look up at his eyes. They're no longer gold the way they were before. They're darker now. Green. Your breathing picks up as you kiss him again. It's a soft, quick kiss. He reciprocates, waiting for your decision.

"Home?" You ask him. He smiles against your lips and nods.

"Home." 

"Obi Wan. Take me home."

The burst of joy in his signature is more than enough to convince you that this was the right decision. He kisses you fiercely before retreating and standing up straight. A lord once again. Offering you his arm, he leads you back into the public eye.

As he escorts you through the front doors of the building and towards the hanger, you are stopped by a voice yelling your name. Your Jedi babysitter. You forgot about him. Obi Wan stiffens as he hears it as well, turning his head just enough to see the man behind you. You try to keep going but Obi Wan has stopped. Your panic is beginning to rise again. You'll never be free.

"You are to return to the Temple with me immediately, Young Padawan. This is not a debate."

"I-" 

"My apologies, Jedi, but I believe she has made her decision." Obi Wan's voice is calm but there is a hint of a threat in it. He's daring the man to oppose him.

"I'm sorry, Senator, but that will not be happening. She has been asked to return to the Temple."

"Senator? Do you hear that, my darling? Senator. The level of disrespect tossed about by the Order is truly insulting. He doesn't even know my name."

You keep your eyes on Obi, pleading with him through your signature to just take you and go. In your bones, you knew it wouldn't be this easy. If only.

Obi Wan turns and the Jedi recognizes him. His eyes, now returned to gold, are a dead giveaway. The Jedi draws his weapon and beckons you over, holding his hand out as he calls your name again. 

"This man is not who you think he is, Padawan. Come with me." He reaches for you again but you take a step back, closer to Obi Wan. 

"Maybe I'm not who you thought I was, Master. Or… I think perhaps I am." Glancing up at Obi, you see him watching you with curiosity and… hope. You haven't seen hope in so long you almost don't recognize it. 

Your Obi nods at you, just once, and takes a step back. The Jedi is gazing at the both of you with confusion and horror as you look at Obi Wan.

"I told you already, Little Dove. This is your decision. No one can make it for you." His voice calms you. There's no malice in it when he directs it at you.

"He's trying to trick you, Padawan. It's time to go now." The Jedi got close enough to grab your wrist and begin to pull you away. The moment he touches you, your lightsaber is in your hand and the Jedi is screaming. You open your eyes and see the man's arm on the ground between you. His lightsaber falls from his other hand and Obi Wan comes to pick it up. You feel your hands shaking as you watch him replace the Jedi's Saber on his belt before reaching a hand out to you. 

"Are you ready now, darling?"

You look between Obi's hand and the man's arm and then at the blood on your gown. You take Obi Wan's hand and leave the Jedi kneeling on the ground of the hanger as you're taken onto your love's ship. He sits you down and pulls off his cape, draping it over you. It's heavier than it looked. He helps to strap you into the co-pilot seat before getting into the pilot seat.

As the ship lifts off, you catch a reflection in the glass of the cockpit window. Your eyes are surrounded by a ring of gold.

You feel Obi Wan take your hand as you reach hyperspace and let him smooth his thumb over your knuckles. You glance up at his beautiful eyes and see they are the blue you missed. You realize something that nearly brings you to tears again. You've been on your own for most of your life, especially when it got hard.

You don't have to be alone anymore. You have your Obi Wan.

~~~~~

@meshlasolus @vi-does-stuff @star-whores-a-new-hoe @turtlelover59 @lowkeyorloki 

[aria-ashryver]

the boys exchange rings sometimes even if the rings are too big/little for their fingers

i can absolutely see them doing this aahh 🖤🖤🖤 like, these dudes are so into their accessories in ID canon, like just look at them in their default outfits (yes, the diamond option is Luca's "default" in my head, shh)

im counting

Gabe - 1 ring, 1 watch, 1 belt, 2 bracelets (mixing silver and gold tones bc he's a baddie who does what he wants)

Luca - 2 rings, 1 watch, 1 necklace, 7 bracelets (why do you need 7, my guy? i love this for you)

Cas - 2 rings, 1 necklace, 1 eyebrow piercing, 1 ICONIC chained ear cuff and piercing, 2 bracelets, 1 belt (with a chain, because LIVE your best early 2000s SK8R BOI lifestyle Cas!!! 👏 I am here for your outdated choices, you make them work!!)

and we have already witnessed Luca stealing Cas's jewellery in Starlight on at least 2 separate occasions.

From the guys who brought us "I made u this vampire token it has my heartbeat in it pls date me", there will undoubtedly be future exchanges of rings and necklaces and little tokens of affection between the three of them, yes -- both as Significant Gift Items, and just smaller, more impulsive, "I saw this and thought of you type presents".

Then, of course, once those gifts have been given, it goes without saying that they unofficially just belong to all three of them. They will be wearing each other's stuff all the time.

Luca's rings are too small for Cas? No problem, he wears them on his pinky.

Gabe's rings are a little loose on Luca's fingers? Totally fine, we put a big chunky ring on, and wear a second, smaller one on the same finger to keep it in place.

The boys are holding hands and their rings are getting in the way of their laced fingers? Easy fix, Luca can tug the rings off of Cas's hand and wear them on their opposite hand instead. Problem solved!

I think they would take a lot of comfort in always keeping a piece of each other close, especially with keepsakes as sentimental as rings can be. Don't even get me started on their shared wardrobe situation, oh my god. I love these three 🥰

[pransesdp]

So I know this really old but what is HONEST opinion of those horrible 10 year later designs. Im sorry but they are so terrible looking ugh!! Dx

Hmmm, lemme see if I can dig up those designs cause this’ll be a fun question to answer lol:

Danny himself; *almost* had potential to be good and I see what BH was going for with the green accents… buuuut as-is it just looks too cluttered tbh. Dunno why his neck looks like a string of piano keys either (unless that’s meant to be metal shading? Idk lol)

Sam; I love you girl… but whyyy are you basically wearing the same outfit/hairstyle you did as a 14 year old?? The long boots and purple coat are cool accessories, but without an actually cool outfit underneath to put it all together, I just ain’t feelin it 😔

Tucker; Tbh I don’t mind the new blue colors added to his design… I just don’t get the random tri-colored beanie thrown on top of it?? If BH wanted to incorporate his canon teen colors then he should’ve just put them throughout the outfit itself ngl 🤷‍♀️

Jazz; …Um, since when was Jazz some kind of Professor X-level character to need to be confined to some mechanical suit/chair like this…? .-. Poor girl just wanted to be a psychologist ffs, let her be free-

Maddie; …No, just no lol. Is Maddie going through some midlife crisis to suddenly be doning some edgy rebel teen style?? Why is she chaining ghosts by the neck when her son is half-ghost?? BH I have questions 😭

Jack; This one’s… kiiiiiinda okay, at least with the bearded/veteran ghost hunter look as a concept. Dunno why Jack would have a robot leg though? (Unless BH mentioned the reason in his video but idk I’m too lazy to hunt for it lol)

Dani; The punkish vibe of this design *could* work okay with her… buuut since I’m sure by this point Dani wouldn’t wanna be compared to Danny all the time, why would her ghost form be lowkey identical to his?

Vlad; Guess Vlad getting imprisoned for his crimes would be a fitting future fate for him… but why does it have to be by aliens, exactly? Couldn’t just some higher power ghost like Clockwork or The Observants work for that fine? They already have custody of Dark Danny, so 🤷‍♀️

Ember; The half-shaved punkier look of this design could’ve worked… but idk where the heck Ember became some Danny fan girl with a crush when she didn’t care an inch for the dude in the OG show 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️Guess BH was trying to appease the D/E shippers for more fan views or something-

Skulker; …wait, I thought this guy was pretty much a robot, why does he just look like any other aged older guy/ghost? .-. Guess it could be worse but… still, wut-

[pharawee]

okay so i was reading your theory about chains of heart and i just gotta share mine.

din is still alive. i think it's obvious at this point that he is because he managed to survive the fall from the cliff, we saw that in episode two (about twenty minutes in) where he and ken were laying in the river bank and din was begging ken to live for him. i don't think he died after that, though. he somehow survived, the body they found in the forrest wasn't him, and he got plastic surgery to not look like himself so he could continue on surviving. so who is he then? none other than talu/lue, the leather glove wearing weirdo basically stalking ken. and he can't tell ken either because he's afraid word would get out - ken might tell his friends or his family, it'd likely get back to din's parents and since they're "close" with the chief (idk if they gave him another name, the man with the scar and altered eye) whom we just saw was the one who shot din, it'd obviously get back to him as well so din wouldn't be safe still being alive - or maybe din is afraid ken wouldn't accept him as he now looks/is so he's gotta adapt to this whole new persona to survive and he's got no other choice but to start over with ken.

it's the way that "lue" looks at ken, like they already have history and he's already in love with him. his willingness to protect and save ken, a supposed basic stranger. like sure, you can be a good guy, but who would really jump in a fight with a bunch of dudes to save some random guy in the middle of an alley unless you know them personally like din knows ken? "lue" saw his way in and snatched it so damn fast. now that he's wormed his way back into ken's life, there's no way he's going to leave him and that's why he "coincidentally" keeps showing up whenever ken needs help.

it's also strange that he's always wearing clothes that cover his entire body and those leather gloves... in thailand where it's hot as heck. someone explain that to me please, there's gotta be a reason why he has to hide his body.

Hi 💜 and also: yay, someone to talk chains of heart with!

I agree with your whole theory. I think it's becoming pretty obvious that Lue and Din (and Tee? idk if you agree with me there) are the same person (and S P O I L E R someone else has confirmed it as canon in the novel / S P O I L E R).

How Lue doesn't just die under the turtle neck, suit jacket and gloves is anyone's guess. They're not even in North Thailand, I think. But yeah, it must be because of the scars. People in the mdl comments are complaining that no one ever commented on it but the first time Lue and Ken shake hands Ken definitely looks at him funny and then decides to leave it uncommented (which tbh is the polite thing to do).

But yeah, it's the way Lue looks at Ken. There's so much yearning and sadness and love there. And Ken must see it too and he's probably confused about why he reacts to this stranger at all, but he's too loyal to Din to even consider it.

But. I'm not even sure Din/Lue wanted to reveal himself to Ken - at least not that soon. He was totally already watching (over) Ken from afar but he had to intervene in the street fight in ep 1 to make sure Ken was safe. And I guess then he just went with the flow because he couldn't stay away (cue to the many many stares~).

I'm still not sure why he had to explode three random street thugs to do all that but ok 🤣

And I'm also reasonably sure that Ken will be devastated once he finds out. No way this revelation will go over well.

[black-coffee-and-sugar]

Magical thinking indeed:

- im just over here feeling warm cuz lena really referred to kara's apartment as 'home'. lena truly looked like one partner stuck entertaining the friends alone because the other partner is running late and didn't give an excuse for why

- also kara flying in through the window sans the suit cuz everyone knows now. im living for this

- nia just jumping over the backrest of the couch. it's about time these people actually started acting like friends and i would like to point out that we didn't get to this until lena was back and finally a full member of the super friends. i know im beating a dead horse but we could've had this seasons ago

- i actually forgot about the voldemort/harry thing going on with nxyly and kara but that's honestly on me for always watching these episodes after 2 glasses of wine

- brainy wasn't in this episode because??? like what does he have going on outside of the tower? are him and nia even dating? did we really give his screentime to william and fucking mitch? this is the 3rd game night scene he hasn't been in and im not a fan

- andrea is so mean but like...it's william

- also this embedding william with the super friends thing is utter BULLSHIT. have you ever watched a show that literally has to force a character into scenes? nothing about william's involvement is ever organic and the problem is persisting all because of a contrived connection the writers want to forge between him, kara and the super friends

- alex n j'onn, the gatekeepers of kara's secret, the former blacksite clandestine agents actually agreed to this and WHY

- alex not protecting her identity WHY

- lena's identity and magic needs to be a secret and yet there lena is, eye fucking with kara in the middle of tower in front of william, god and my fucking salad

- honestly if william doesn't figure out who they all are, since they're doing a shit job hiding it, he's just plain stupid

- i get the impression that kara is still too terrified of lena getting directly involved. she doesn't want her on nxyly's radar at all

- esme!

- rainbow bracelet. kelly as guardian still wearing that shit like a proud mom hanging their kids art on the fridge. im soft

- the foster parents were suspect from minute one but the way that woman just pushed that small child outside to defend them. like...what kind of psycho does that? and more importantly why were they NOT ARRESTED?!?!

- 'lena broke my brain'. you know that line was 100% nicole and i thank her for her service. that was hilarious

- nxyly is the first supergirl villain ive enjoyed since S2 lillian

- lena is not amused by william. same girl same

- but credit where credit is due, his baking story for once actually had some relevance and gave lena her epiphany about her mom's spell

- kara offering to go get the flower or whatever for lena because it's dangerous and lena's little and she doesn't want her to get hurt. protective kara we love to see it

- william: you protect lena, supergirl

my dude, unneeded instruction.

- kara being all cocky is peak content. lena's little smile at kara's casual display of strength. SAME LENA SAME

- for a minute i thought kara totally killed that guy with the flicked bullet

- nia's spidey senses tingling at the lover's quarrel kara and lena are about to have.

- im surprised they didn't bring up the brain washing because that was definitely the moment where lena believed it was for the greater good and she was being manipulative and ruthless with her vampire shirt

- can we say GROWTH tho. i love that kara and lena can disagree without all this bullshit drama like before. secrets are OUT honesty is IN. they're communicating and expressing their fears and leaning on each other. this. this is what i want

- also have to point out that lena is kara's humanity. WE BEEN KNEW but that shit is canon now. so is kara being hopeful and happy around lena. and kara no longer feeling alone because lena is back. i can't believe im winning

- so so so last week lena says 'i believe in you' and now kara says it. before it was 'good luck' 'you too'. the way the writers avoid the explicit use of 'i love you' just makes it louder

- currently thinking about the 'i believe in a thing called love' episode and im already losing my mind

- lena and nia god i love them together. their scenes totally feel like genuine katie and nicole vibes.

- yo the stunt work was actually decent? dreamer's black widow style flip. the dansen banter while kicking ass. is...is this still supergirl? im not used to being fed like this

- dansen telepathy. they just agreed 'yep esme is the one'

- did veeta not say that there's a 'prescribed order to the totems'? so why are they now picking whichever totem they feel like?

- ngl the super friends have been the cause of literally all the city's major issues this entire season

- lena does the spell she didn't want to do because??? like that's not even me being a little shit i think i might have missed that cuz i don't understand the chain of events that led to her changing her mind when she was so adamantly against it

- these incompetent heroes continue their idoicy by letting william write this article WHY. they are not running on taxpayer dollars. they don't owe the public shit. they're actually breaking many laws as vigilantes and 'borrowing' satellites and god knows what else

- andrea has no journalistic integrity. or common decency. she's still hot tho

- william growing a pair. good for him but did he and apparently Andrea forget about the 'no competing' clause in the contracts?

- ending with supercorp domestic fluff 2 episodes in a row. bruh don't touch me

- lena: I'm not using my fingers

kara: I'm going to

this is the new 'i don't think about you while im doing it'

it's all so deliberate. they're SO LOUD

[s0ckh3adstudios]

I posted 325 times in 2021

133 posts created (41%)

192 posts reblogged (59%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.4 posts.

I added 445 tags in 2021

#ahit - 79 posts

#a hat in time - 78 posts

#sock talk - 67 posts

#a hat in time au - 52 posts

#ahit au - 52 posts

#moi <3 - 31 posts

#ghost mcdonalds - 25 posts

#ahit haunted hats au - 25 posts

#ahit mustached royalty au - 20 posts

#ahit timmy - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 113 characters

#'haha loser got chained up in a basement bc he bought flowers and his partner thought he was cheating on her lol'

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

THESE DORKS.. COMIN TO BEAT YOU UP..

37 notes • Posted 2021-12-03 03:55:20 GMT

#4

Doodles I had to get out of my system 👀 MRAU is back in my head.

53 notes • Posted 2021-11-15 05:20:19 GMT

#3

2 A Hat Kid

the beloved alien

60 notes • Posted 2021-12-04 17:43:39 GMT

#2

Similarities/Parallels between Mustache Girl, Snatcher, and Vanessa, and how MAYBE there’s relation between them 👀

Because there’s a... surprising amount.

Similarities and Parallels:

1: Mu and Hat Kid’s story parallels Snatcher/Prince and Vanessa’s. Brown haired person and blonde haired person meet, become close, but it’s the blonde one who gets upset and ruins everything for the both of them, eventually covering their home in a specific element (Mu: fire/lava, Vanessa: ice)

2: On a related note, Snatcher and Mu both lose their homes to some sort of tragedy. The mafia invaded Mu’s island, and Snatcher’s entire kingdom was frozen by Vanessa.

3: All three are related to an element. Vanessa has ice, Snatcher is seen with blue fire, and Mu literally covers the planet in lava and has a castle full of fire.

4: Similar wording (and violent tendencies..). During the finale, towards Hat Kid, Mu says “Oh, it’s you.” while another music theme of Snatcher’s is called “Oh, it’s You.” They also, uh, both talk about strangling people. Like father like daughter?...

5: Mu even has similar details to Prince and Vanessa. Blonde hair like Vanessa, yellow eyes like Prince possibly had since Snatcher has yellow eyes, same skin color, shortness like Prince (I know she’s a kid but I wanted to mention how Prince is short too akgkhjkgkgs and all the other kids are taller than she is). Mu and Vanessa also have the same accent (and the same voice actor).

6: Similar outfits! In color, I mean. Both Mu and Prince wear red and purple, and are both seen sporting a cloak/cape.

Why Mu could be their daughter:

It’s funny how Mu, Snatcher, and Vanessa share all these similarities and coincidental details, tell me if you find anymore, would love to know.

I love to believe Mu is their daughter, since it’s a fun idea to think about and would honestly make much more sense than Hat Kid being their daughter. She looks more like them, sounds more like them, and carries over certain aspects of them. Yes, I know that’s not a genetic thing, but this is a game and they’re funny coincidences.

How would it be possible considering Snatcher and Vanessa probably lived hundreds of years ago? Idk man, anything is possible. Or, in the case of people thinking that the freezing of Subcon actually happened in recent years, that would also make sense.

There was a child’s nursery in the manor with a crib and toys and everything and it just sat there empty. Did they have a kid? And what happened to them? Sure, they could have been planning on it, but if they already had one, how come they were never mentioned? Nothing in Vanessa’s diary, nor any pictures, or the photo album. Left up for interpretation.

We also never hear anything about Mu having any parents. Where were her parents when the mafia invaded? She had to live in a CAVE, where were her parents and her home?? Like, dude??

Why Hat, Bow, and Timmy can’t (canonically) be Prince and Vanessa’s biological kid

Look, there can be some sorta evidence to why maybe Hat could be related to them. Brown hair like Prince, and a purple and yellow color scheme. But honestly? That’s about it. And Hat Kid is an ALIEN. It’s important to the game that she’s not from Earth, she’s traveling in a spaceship, and she’s trying to get home, and home isn’t Earth.

With Bow, I think it’s kinda obvious why she wouldn’t be related to them, she doesn’t look like Prince and Vanessa at all akgkhjhk. Though I’m not opposed to Dadtcher and Bow Kid, I honestly prefer it over Dadtcher and Hat Kid. I think we all know I like Dadtcher and Mu more though haha.

Timmy, ehh. An argument could be made. But I don’t think so. Also probably more related to Tim anyway??

Can arguments be made against Mu being their kid? OH OF COURSE. Dude, chances are that Prince and Vanessa have NO kid at all. But I’m having fun in my little corner over here. -u- And I’m not saying “no nobody is allowed to have their own interpretation of the other kids being Snatcher and Vanessa’s kid it’s not true” because it’s free game here, we can do what we want, and despite Datcher and Hat Kid not being my cup of tea, I do enjoy some versions of it, like the Coffee Shop AU kinda haha.

Dadtcher and Mu is a rare variety of Dadtcher and you know what? There should be more content! It’s a much more fun dynamic in my opinion. Feral girl trying to be a hero while trying to keep her evil ghost lawyer dad in check and make him less evil while also respecting him because let’s face it Snatcher is awesome. And they wouldn’t just have soft moments all the time like I see around with other Dadtcher variations. They ANNOY each other. They get on each others nerves. They’re both stubborn and mischevious and have fun with destruction and chaos. But with the soft moments here and there, they can relate to each other and comfort each other because of their past situations. No, Snatcher wouldn’t trauma dump on Mu right away. He wouldn’t tell her “yeah your mom chained me up in the basement and idk why”. When first exploring the manor, Mu could have figured that out from stuff in the basement and diary entries herself, but Snatcher knows better than to unload all that on a 12 year old who’s already dealing with her own crap. To Snatcher, everybody can peck off except for this cool kid who knows how to murder.

Anyway random tangent over. Reblog and let the world see. Maybe I’ll update this if I come up with more (if anyone finds anymore evidence or similarities, feel free to comment or reblog, just sayin,,)

And let's get some CONTENT with them! Some art, some doodles!

65 notes • Posted 2021-11-10 04:44:35 GMT

#1

A discovery I made in AHIT's new DLC!

So, in the dining room, there's a statue of the prince and I noticed there were familiar symbols on it...

It's the Nyakuza Metro Alphabet!!

So, I went and decoded it! And you'll never believe what it read.

"M is real 2041."

THEY REFERENCED L IS REAL....

REBLOG AND SPREAD THIS DISCOVERY.

172 notes • Posted 2021-11-29 04:06:23 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[therealsaintscully]

Mary and butterflies - the inevitability of death, murderous calling cards and collectors

Some ramblings with links to other people’s excellent meta, in which I suggest that butterflies (and/or moths) symbolize Mary as Moriarty’s reincarnation and or calling card, while also hint at her inevitable death.

Disclaimers: credits are below the cut. I’m not an expert in any of these topics. Thank you, @thewatsonbeekeepers​​ for the beta. In this post I’ll be using moths and butterflies interchangeably, apologies to any entomologists.

Mary’s appearance in the show brings with it new imagery we haven’t seen prior to The Empty Hearse - butterflies. Once Mary’s in the picture, there are butterflies in some very strategic locations, all are either visually or subtextually leading to her. The show has done that previous to season 3; Moriarty is connected to some well established symbols like magpies, apples and IOUs. 

When I first started reading meta I used to think these themes were a bit of a stretch, but I’ve since accepted  that this is a show that puts barely noticeable phoenixes in a restaurant scene that shows us Sherlock rising from his death.

Here are some of the butterflies I spotted so far:

Butterflies (and in the case of this piece of meta, moth) symbolize most commonly resurrection, change and renewal. Behind the symbolism stands the transformation of a small, ungainly creature into something full-grown and unbound. In that case, in the simplest way, one could argue that butterflies were chosen to symbolize her because the ‘Mary Morstan’ persona was a stillborn’s identity that was stolen and used ‘reborn’ to create a new person.

But more than this simplistic idea; butterflies carry multiple symbolisms. When it comes to Sherlock, I and many others tend to look at Victorian symbolism, considering the detective’s Victorian roots. 

I find the appearance of butterflies interesting in Mary’s context, much like I find the skull interesting in Sherlock’s. The skulls, in Sherlock’s case, serve plenty of purposes, but one of them is the idea of memento mori.

Memento mori (Latin for 'remember that you [have to] die') is an artistic or symbolic reminder of the inevitability of death. These are representations that can appear in any form of art such as paintings, literature, poetry etc. It’s a concept that existed in many ancient cultures but is also deeply rooted in early Christianity. It serves to remind people of the inevitable; that even if we choose to ignore it, not think about it, it’s always there lurking, and the purpose is not to scare us but to encourage us to make good use of our time when we’re alive. Memento mori was the philosophy of reflecting on your own death as a form of spiritual improvement, and rejecting earthly vanities.

Victorians were obsessed with the concept (weren’t Victorians obsessed with everything?). They would take photographs of the dead and keep locks of hair of those who died in mourning brooches. It is said that they found these practices comforting. 

Another expression of the ‘remember that you must die’ concept was vanitas art;  vanitas is a symbolic work of art showing the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. The Latin noun vanitas (from the Latin adjective vanus 'empty') means 'emptiness', 'futility', or 'worthlessness', the traditional Christian view being that earthly goods and pursuits are transient and worthless. It alludes to Ecclesiastes 1:2; 12:8, where vanitas translates the Hebrew word hevel (הבל), which also includes the concept of transitoriness. 

This concept reminds me, most especially, of the skull used in The Abominable Bride, which is actually Charles Allen Gilbert's 'All is Vanity' Illusion art.

Back to butterflies - butterflies are a staple component of vanitas art - paintings executed in the vanitas style were meant to remind viewers of the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. They also provided a moral justification for painting attractive objects - in a way, it’s a justification for the vanity, or the human need of enjoyment of beautiful things.  Below is a vanitas by Jan Sanders van Hemessen:

But butterflies are also considered an omen of death: 

“Butterflies and moths were associated with death, sometimes merely as omens, sometimes as the soul or ghost.” These butterfly omens came in many ways.  For example, in the nineteenth century United States, some people thought that a trio of butterflies was an omen of death.” [x]

Oh.

But I also think there’s more to the butterfly symbolism than Mary’s imminent death; I suggest that, in keeping with @loudest-subtext-in-tv​ M-Theory (suggesting that Mary was planted in John’s life by Moriarty), they symbolize Mary as Moriarty reincarnated following his death in TRF. That Moriarty had indeed not disappointed Sherlock - there was a posthumous game after all! That Sherlock was supposed to understand that while one form of Moriarty died on that roof, another had emerged, continuing the mission of burning Sherlock’s heart. Mary is Moriarty’s calling card, left behind in the crime scene. They’re different, but not separate, which is why Sherlock is so obsessed with Moriarty between HLV-T6T; he’s both wrong and correct at the same time.

So far, what I’ve suggested is that in Sherlock, skulls are Sherlock’s symbolic memento mori - the skulls are associated with Sherlock in some very significant ways. 

However, Mary’s character was doomed from the start - she dies during Sherlock’s hiatus in ACD canon. I believe many fans assumed Sherlock’s Mary expected the same fate when she was introduced to the show. Although the story of Samarra is told by Sherlock, who expects his own death in T6T, Mary is the one who ends up dying. 

Butterflies in ACD canon

Searching for the significance of butterflies in the ACD and BBC canon led me to a number of interesting directions in meta written by others. 

The first and probably the best place to start is this meta post by @tendergingergirl​​, which I strongly suggest you read in full: Butterflies, Sexual Deviancy & The Bloodline Theory in The Hound of The Baskervilles. 

Stapleton also has a hobby. He collects bugs…Butterflies, to be exact. This can often be seen as purely academic, but depending on the actions of the hobbyist, they can indicate more disturbing things. That of holding something vulnerable captive, treating it as your hostage, pinning it down. The torture of animals has come to be a good indicator of someone who would do this to a human. He had already shown callousness by laughing as he recounts to Holmes of ponies wandering onto the Moor, becoming trapped, and dying. In 1974, there was a release of a new edition of Sherlock Holmes stories, with the forward of The Hound of The Baskervilles written by British author, John Fowles. He is responsible for several well-known works, including The French Lieutenant’s Wife. Another, was a novel that Mason finds himself wondering why Fowles doesn’t mention in his introduction, since the villain is such a close parallel to Stapleton.(but as we have learned through the study of ACD, most writers will not come right out and say where they got their inspiration. They like for you to guess!)

A lonely young man, works as a clerk, and collects butterflies, becomes obsessed with a pretty young girl, Miranda, an art student. He chloroforms, and kidnaps her, taking her to his cellar basement, to add Miranda to his collection. That book was called The Collector. But what else does it sound like?

“So yes, I googled. From an article on the release of the movie’s Documentary. "The docu proves a poor reference point for anyone who wants to understand the literary and movie links for “Lambs.” There’s no mention, for example, of how Harris partly based the butterfly-loving Bill on John Fowles’ kidnapper in “The Collector” …And here I thought Mofftiss added allusions to Silence of The Lambs into Sherlock just for fun. SMH.”

@tendergingergirl​ also added this photo to their post:

So what we have here is a chain of metatextualities/inspiration, starting with ACD’s THOB, where Jack Stapelton inspires a book about a disturbed butterfly collector (The Collector by John Fowles), which inspires a the author of Silence of the Lambs in creation of his character Buffalo Bill, a serial murderer who inserts a death's head moth into the victim's throat because he is fascinated by the insect's metamorphosis. Silence of the Lambs served as inspiration for Sherlock  as analyzed by @garkgatiss​ in Bond, Hannibal, and Holmes (I suggest you read the whole Hannibal section) . 

Let’s look again at some imagery from His Last Vow. Mary shoots Sherlock’s heart, essentially burning his heart out, and who does Sherlock meet in his Mind Palace in a very cocoon-like straightjacket? Yes, the dead dude who encourages him to die already (“one more push, and off you pop”).

What’s the next thing we as an audience see once Sherlock opens his eyes? Mary coming to the hospital to hear that Sherlock had, in fact, survived. And what is she wearing? Her butterfly scarf, one which will another appearance later in the episode, during the tarmac scene.

I also find it interesting that in the context of Sherlock and Silence of the Lamb, there’s an element of gender-switching between Moriarty and Mary. Buffalo Bill, the murderer from Silence of the Lambs, skins bodies of women to create himself a woman’s 'suit’; in Sherlock, Moriarty is a man-villain who transforms into a female-villain in the form of a bride and/or Mary. 

By the way, who else is obsessed with his suits?

Also, let’s not forget the worms, maggots and other such crawlers in the grave scene:

Now, let’s go over some of the photos I included in the beginning of this post a bit further.

Mrs. Hudson’s butterfly tea set is first shown in TEH - she uses it to serve John tea when he comes visiting her and tellis her about Mary. We also see it near John’s chair on the day of the wedding. This isn’t Sherlock’s set - his set is different, featuring the British Isles. Moriarty drinks from it in TRF. The next tea set we see, now that Moriarty is dead, is the butterflies one. In TLD, Mrs. Hudson uses Sherlock’s tea set - the butterflies are gone.

Mary’s bedroom wallpaper is very feminine, with flowers and butterflies, both complementing symbols while also very common in vanitas art. Much like Mrs. Hudson’s wallpaper in Baker Street, Mary’s wallpaper is supposed to show the contrast between Mary’s flat/Mary and Sherlock’s flat/Sherlock.

There’s an interesting moth reference in The Empty Hearse, which in my opinion, is Mary & Moriarty related. In short, in a previous piece of meta I wrote, I suggested that the Jack the Ripper case in TEH is subtext alluding to Mary’s skeletons, which Sherlock ignores because he’s upset by his reception by John. And what’s one of the first things Sherlock notices about the skeleton? New mothballs smell, hinting at an attempt to get rid of moth/butterflies - maybe a hint to  the fact that Sherlock has a chance to discover the truth about Mary but misses it. Also, in the context of Mary and the Jack the Ripper case, notice this transition:

Transitions are important on Sherlock - they’re nearly always there to draw our attention.

This, I think, is perhaps the most telling about a possible connection between Mary and Moriarty: we have both magpies (a Moriarty hint) and butterflies together here. This isn’t the only hint of Mary’s past we get in the wedding; there is, after all, the telegram from CAM.

Mary’s scarf is colorful, and it appears by the time Sherlock’s subconscious suspects Mary. Mary’s black butterfly dress - an ominous dress, I’d say - is the one she wears during the labour scene in the car. The third photo is a behind the scenes photo uploaded by Amanda Abbington, although I’m unsure whether this necklace is AA’s or Mary’s (but I couldn’t pass on including this).

Interestingly, the butterflies do not appear in Rosie’s context - either because it’s a telling sign that Mary won’t be with us much longer, or because Rosie is spared being considered a part of the ‘burning Sherlock’s heart’ plan. Sherlock, on the surface, seems to love Rosie and accepts her.

Also, another BTS photograph I came across during my research which I’ve never seen before and ties nicely to the vanity topic is this one (found here):

The Death's-head hawkmoth and ‘Death with Interruptions’

You’ll recall that I referenced The Collector and Silence of the Lambs, both featuring butterflies on their cover art. 

The Silence of the Lambs cover features Acherontia atropos, otherwise known as the death's-head hawkmoth. It gets its name from the sinister-looking skull shape on its back. In many cultures it is thought to be an omen of death. In a bit of another coincidental but stunning piece of symbolism, all three species of the Death's-head hawkmoth are commonly observed raiding beehives of different species of honey bee; A. atropos only invades colonies of the well-known western honey bee, Apis mellifera, and feeds on both nectar and honey. They can move about in hives without being disturbed because they mimic the scent of the bees and are not recognised as intruders.

Anyway, the use of Acherontia atropos reminded me of the book ‘Death with Interruptions’ by Jose Saramago. Interestingly, this is another book about a deathly collector with a butterfly on the cover:

In Death with Interruptions death is a woman, and she falls in love with one of her future victims. She decides to spare his life: Every time death sends him his letter [notifying him of his imminent death], it gets returned. death discovers that, without reason, this man has mistakenly not been killed. Although originally intending merely to analyse this man and discover why he is unique, death eventually becomes infatuated with him, so much so that she takes on human form to meet him. Upon visiting the cellist, she plans to personally give him the letter; instead, she falls in love with him, and, by doing so, she becomes even more human-like.

It’s pretty common to read theories about Mary who maybe was one of the assassins due to kill John both at the pool and in front of Barts. So we have a death harbinger trying to kill someone twice and failing. She then falls in love with him.

But how does the butterfly fit in?

Well, at some point in the story, death (that’s her name, sans a capital d), contemplates that using the death head butterfly, instead of a violet piece of paper, would have sent a much stronger message to those whose death is coming for.

And here’s another last bit of coincidental reference to Sherlock: I’d argue shades of purple, among them shades of violet, are associated with Mary and her secrets. There’s the purple dress she wears in TEH, her bridesmaids’ dresses include various shades of purple (including what I would argue was a violet sash) and let’s not forget:

Oh and, by the way, remember the song Donde Estas, Yolanda from TEH, about a woman called Yolanda? Always thought it was a bit of an odd choice for a song?

Yolanda is a female given name, of Greek origin, meaning Violet.

:)

Thoughts?

Credits: thank you @lukessense​ for directing me to @tendergingergirl​ meta about butterflies. Episode screenshots are from kissthemgoodbye.net.

@sarahthecoat​  @tjlcisthenewsexy​ @devoursjohnlock​ @inevitably-johnlocked​ @shylockgnomes​ @possiblyimbiassed​ @raggedyblue​ @ebaeschnbliah​ @gosherlocked​ @waitedforgarridebs​ @helloliriels​ 

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Trois:

Chapter One. 

The leading lady will be introduced eventually but I feel like with the way this is written I need to focus on Adonis and Erik first. 

Warnings: AU!Erik, AU!Adonis, smut, bisexual, mentions of blood, threesome.

The 2019 Comic Con at the Los Angeles Convention Center was populous to say the least. Adonis Johnson felt like he was elbow-to-elbow with the animated and roused crowd of event goers. Everyone is grouped like teenagers in those cheesy high school flicks. You have your Nerds—never worried about being challenged to prove their knowledge about the gaming character or superhero on the shirt they're wearing, yelling out quotes in a spirit of shared fandom. Then, you have your cos players—rehearsed smiles on their faces whenever they are stopped to have their picture taken, sort of deteriorating and looking less magnificent as the day goes on due to wig issues, broken weapons, or itchy and hot costumes. Then, there are those individuals like Adonis who endure the hectic universe. 

Adonis is wearing a faded orange muscle tee with a mixture of his favorite anime characters such as Saitama, Goku, Sasuke, L, Yusuke Urameshi, and Spike Spiegel. He styled the tee with a pair of Nike Dri-FIT Basketball shorts in black, black Jordan socks, and a pair of orange and black Air Jordan 1’s on his feet. He couldn’t forget his layered silver chains and finger rings to make it more stylish, or his charcoal black Coach backpack to carry his essentials like the sun screen he needed and some water from standing in that long ass line in the blazing afternoon sun. The cast of Zombieland: Double Tap will be there, and over 800 exhibitors. Adonis didn’t even know where to start or end and at first he figured the map in his hand that he grabbed at the entrance was a great idea but he tossed it in the closest receptacle. 

Adonis scratched at the steri-strip on the corner of his pouty bottom lip since the regular stitches were removed by his doctor almost 48 hours ago. Adonis earned that busted lip from a fight he triumphed in. He didn’t get that wound from the type of fights you see on paper view—he’s an Underground Boxer who participates in Street fighting. Yes, Adonis fights in ‘unlicensed’ matches. This means it operates outside the governing bodies of the sport and is susceptible to rules being broken and fights being fixed. It is illegal in many countries because it is dangerous and disruptive to daily life—running the possibility of being charged with several crimes especially. It’s Adonis’ personal fight club, a badge of honor for him. 

Adonis was introduced to the idea of a fight club by a childhood buddy of his that died five years ago. His name was Clark Wilson. Adonis and Clark used to be in Juvie together—two angry kids who used their fists because of the violence and hatred surrounding them. When Adonis’ father, famous Boxer named Apollo Creed’s wife Mary Anne came looking for Adonis while he was in Juvie, she took him in as her own son and started him out in therapy and anger management groups. For the most part, Adonis felt as if his anger was suppressed but he missed the way fighting made him feel——alive. First, Adonis had to understand the reasoning of a Fight Club. Fight Club is about releasing his anger and stress; about fighting his problems; about going against normalcy and the safe little bubble he has become accustomed to living in. 

Rules were put in place and Adonis found a private property hidden from the public eye so that the authorities can’t interfere. Adonis uses a basement of a record shop for his Fight Club location. If someone would die in Fight Club, there isn’t anything anyone could do. There has only been one case where someone died in Adonis’ Fight Club and he swore to make sure it didn’t become deadly. Brutal, yes, but no murder. Pinching the steri-strip on his lip to keep it in place, Adonis visits an exhibitor—Comic Madness. Pulling out his iPhone so he could use his Apple Pay, Adonis sifts through the comic books to find the ones he wanted. The price tag on them was a bit much but this was a once a year weekend event so he could break the bank. 

Entrepreneur of a fitness company called Elite Body Edge, Erik Stevens strolls through Comic Con after checking out the Hellboy cast members doing a Q&A. Stylish per usual, dangling gold cross earring in his right ear, yellow and black camouflage cargos on, all-white creaseless Nike Air Force 1s, and a lax graphic tee with The Lost Boys on it, Erik pans his Canon PowerShot G7X Mark lll Camera around him, Vlogging his Comic Con experience for his YouTuber’s. When he’s not recording fitness and nutrition videos, Erik is vlogging about his daily life or giving advice to the anonymous subscribers who send him emails. He wanted to edit the video to look like a VHS video for a different aesthetic. Erik strolls past a group of cos players dressed as The Avengers and stops to record them, smiling at the enthusiasm and flashing his gold canines. 

Erik sips from his souvenir cup, the straw making an annoying suctioning noise since it was nearly empty. Shaking the cup, ice chips clanking around, Erik stops to get some more footage. Just when he was about to end his vlogging, there was a rather sexy, good-looking dude with chestnut eyes, amber skin so smooth and velvety looking. The muscle tee he was sporting didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Clearly, he’s lean, and chiseled. Erik haltingly lowers his camera, his inky black eyes trailing over this mystery guys frame with enthrallment. Just when Erik thought he would be coming to Comic Con for some fanboy fun, he spotted a distraction with a nice ass. Erik is a bi-sexual man. Friends jokingly called Erik a hoe that got off on pussy or dick—a reckless hoe that played with fire. Married couples, closet homosexuals, threesomes with women, anything that caused mayhem and wreckage with relationships. Anything to get his thick dick wet. 

Erik’s Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck and his lips parted. When the mystery guy turned around Erik grunted deeply. Lips so thick and plump. Oooh. His breath became ragged and he felt himself swelling. Why did this have to happen to him right now? Donnie must have felt Erik’s hard eyes burning into the back of his skull because he looked back over his shoulder at him with a raised brow and obvious annoyance. The corners of Adonis’ eyes crinkled with suspicion. Erik found it comical, giving Adonis a sly half smirk when their eyes connected. Adonis shook out his shoulders, focusing back on the stacks of comic books in front of him. Why is his heart skipping a beat and his stomach in knots? The back of his neck prickled and he glanced over at Erik again before he cocked his head to the side. The devilish smirk on Erik’s face sparked Adonis’ short temper. 

Thinking back to his anger management tips, Adonis tried to take a timeout by using “I” statements—to stay in control. Think before you speak, don’t make assumptions, calm yourself. As much as he wanted those methods to work, Erik’s smiling, smug face bothered Adonis. Who is this random ass nigga and why the fuck is he smiling like there’s a joke? Adonis started to feel more and more uneasy about Erik staring at him. Does he know about the Fight Club? That seemed to invigorate Adonis’ irritation because he began charging through a group of cos players and walked right up to Erik with his pectoral muscles puffed out and his hands in fists so tight he could feel the aftershocks from his fight almost two days ago. Erik stood his ground with a single brow raised, waiting for Adonis to cause a scene. As soon as Adonis crowded his personal space that was already so little with how many people surrounded them, Erik made it his business to allow his inky black eyes to drop to Adonis’ crotch and back up swiftly. 

“The fuck is your problem staring at me, nigga?” Adonis spoke with a harsh whisper that caused his jaw muscles to clench, “You know me or something?” Adonis paused before he nodded his head slowly, “Let me guess...you wanna fight me?”

“Fight you?” Erik’s eyes become slits, “Why would I want to fight somebody I don’t even know?”

“Well, then you must have heard about me…” Adonis says with a questioning tone. Erik licks his lips and with no regard allows his piercing eyes to memorize the shape of Adonis’ mouth. Adonis couldn’t fight the urge to do the same. He’s turned on. Just as the tension between the two of them reaches a fever pitch, Adonis steps away before he could even realize what he was doing. Adonis didn’t even know he had been holding his breath until he drew in a shaky tone. He’s noticeably quieter now, his aggression tampered. He knew his bewilderment was written across his face. Adonis squared his shoulders and shook out his limbs as if Erik had a bind on him. 

“You good, fighter?” Erik asks sarcastically, “You’re a boxer? I can tell by your reflexes. For a second I thought you were gonna try and knock me out,” Erik smiled. Adonis swallows a hefty amount of spit to calm the tingling sensation in his abdomen. 

“Yeah...I box...underground,” Adonis clarified, “Been doing it for seven years now.”

“Ahh, dirty boxing, I see,” Erik strokes his goatee, “how does one get into that shit anyway? I’m interested.” 

“You don’t choose it like you choose your next meal..you gotta be initiated in...they like to weed out the weak ones…” 

“That hardcore?” Erik took a few steps towards Adonis.

“Hell yeah,” Adonis stares at Erik’s feet as if he were overstepping, “I can tell you more about it if you’re serious.” 

“As long as it’s from the pro himself I’m all ears.” 

This foreign feeling that washed over Adonis’ body was something he felt before when he questioned whether or not he wanted a man to suck his dick. He looks back at Erik just as he smiles and Adonis rolled his eyes away slightly. What the fuck is happening right now? 

“I don’t even know your name, bro,” Adonis held out his hand to give Erik dabs, “I’m Adonis.”

“Erik,” He raised his hand to shake Adonis’. He didn’t want to linger too long but the feeling of his calloused palm teased his hand and it made him want to stroke it. When Erik let go, he allowed his fingertips to brush across the center of Adonis’ palm and that little touch caused Adonis’ biceps to flex. Good to see him react. 

“you gotta be serious...this shit is...it’s rough,” Adonis cleared his throat, “Ain’t the place to really discuss this—“

“Nah, I’m cool,” Erik says with a chuckle—a teasing grin on his face and his eyes now following the definition of Adonis’ arms. Adonis didn’t like Erik staring at him so openly. Maybe Erik got the wrong vibe from Adonis—believing him to be a possible fuck he could conquer after this crowded event, “I’ll stick to boxing in my gym. This underground shit sounds like some kind of deadly contract.” 

“It’s not for everybody,” Adonis says with a smirk, “But if you change your mind, how do I reach you? I usually don’t recruit fighters out in the open like this.”

“Here you go,” Erik pulls out his black leather wallet, retrieving a business card before handing it over to Adonis. It’s a black business card with a gold metallic painted edge for his fitness club Elite Body Edge. The business card is twice as thick as standard cards, since they are printed on 32 pt. uncoated cardstock, offering a superb heft and feel everyone will notice. Erik’s contact information is at the bottom of the card. 

“I’ve heard of this fitness club, all good things too, I’ll keep in touch if you’re ever interested.”

“I’d like to come and watch the fights at least...is that cool?” 

Adonis ponders for a bit, “We have people come and watch but it’s mainly members…”

Erik notices Adonis’ hesitation, backing away a little, “Listen, you hardly know me, I don’t want to intrude on your little secret society. However, you have my card, you can stop by the gym anytime. We have boxing equipment that you can use too.”

“Aight...cool...I’ll come and check it out,” Adonis pockets the card, “Nice to meet you, Erik, sorry for the way I came off at you earlier, my anger can be a bit out of control,” Adonis lets out a nervous chuckle. 

“A bit? I get this vibe that it’s more than just a bit,” Erik turns to leave, “Don’t hesitate to stop by and get a good work out in! Enjoy the rest of your time here at Comic Con.”

“Will do,” Adonis salutes Erik before turning away and disappearing into the sea of people.

________________________________________________________

Elite Body Edge is designed with the purpose of building strong foundations by balancing flexibility, mobility, strength, conditioning and nutrition as well as giving you the perfect sculpt to turn heads; because a strong and sculpted foundation makes a power house. With an arsenal of knowledge, from competition preparation to rehabilitation to strength and conditioning, Elite Body Edge can design a program for any body habitus to achieve any fitness goal. They offer one-on-one training, group sessions and accountability programs to best fit your needs. Why train with Elite Body Edge? No contracts with affordable month-to-month membership, a safe environment to learn proper technique from experienced trainers, a flexible schedule with a variety of group classes to fit your schedule, and an encouraging atmosphere to make working out fun.

Elite Body Edge is a high-end gym experience. Some of the club amenities include, locker rooms complete with sauna and massage chairs, rooftop deck, group fitness classes, premium strength and cardio equipment including LifeFitness, HammerStrength, Precor, and Star Trac, and an amazing aquatic area for swim-fitness. Some of the classes include Restorative Yoga, H.E.A.T Camp, TRX, Feel Fit Naked, Boxing, Self defense, Spin, H.I.I.T, Yogalates, Circuit Burn, and many more. It’s located at 8053 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA. It’s striking architecture was designed by National Design Award winner Ian Jackson of Studio Sofield. It’s 30-foot video wall for virtual-reality cycle classes is exceedingly popular, and it’s soaring 25-foot ceilings supported by illuminated linear columns and over 40,000 square feet of state-of-the-art equipment, Elite Body Edge is a modern-day escape straight out of a sci-fi film. 

Erik is no stranger to the gym. Over the years he has received multiple certifications in performance enhancement, TRX Suspension and is a EliteFirst Certified Level 1 trainer, which he has employed as a strength and conditioning coach for the nationally recognized Fremont High School Basketball Team which has produced multiple athletes in the NBA. He supports the youth and employs them to stay active and live a healthy lifestyle. The fitness mogul himself was wrapping up a TRX tactical training course. Most of the occupants are military trained or athletes and with Erik’s skills it can keep them performing at the highest level. Sweaty, heart rate spiked, muscles fueled, and a round of applause, Erik puts up one hand with a black training glove to settle the cheers from his hard working pupils. 

“Nah, y’all should be clapping for yourselves,” Erik wipes sweat from the tip of his nose, “You guys did an amazing job today. The shit is tough but I see improvement and progress. We’ll meet at the same time next Wednesday. Remember, get some rest, stay hydrated, and eat a well balanced diet.”

Everyone gathered their things and exited the class. Erik grabs some cleaning solution and a few disposable cloths to wipe down the equipment. Gym playlist on, you wouldn’t be able to keep Erik’s energy down for one second. He’s so amped up that he could go for another training session; work on his hamstrings and calves some more. Satisfied with his cleaning, Erik exits the classroom, the double glass doors closing behind him. The energetic, hip-hop music pumped up his clients to finish their workout sessions. The air circulating the gym masked the usual odor that comes with sweating and his gym staff are very vigilant on keeping the place tidy. His staff wears black workout gear from head to toe with the gym logo on the front. 

As Erik walks through his gym, checking things out, a familiar face catches his eye. Training on an Everlast Powercore Dual bag with a speed bag attachment is the eye-candy from Comic Con just a week prior. He’s shirtless with a blue Adidas face mask on and fingerless black MMA gloves. His gym shorts hung low on his hips and his feet danced back and forth in his Speed-Flex boxing shoes in time with his fierce punches. Erik wondered when he became a member. He didn’t expect for Adonis to even take up the offer on joining the gym. Smirking, Erik strolls over towards Adonis at the same time as one of Erik’s pilates trainers, Andrea does. Andrea is wearing a black sports bra with the gym logo and black biker shorts. Her sleek platinum blonde pixie cut made her glistening peanut skin pop. Her dark brown eyes held recognition as well as lust. 

“Donnie?” Andrea says with a sultry voice, “I knew that was you,” Andrea popped her hip out, staring Adonis up and down with a big white smile, “How are you?”

Adonis takes off his face mask, those thick lips extra moist from the perspiration on his skin, “Andrea, w’sup? I’m doing good…” Adonis seemed to be thrown off by her presence. From the way he looked at her with his chocolate eyes, they must have had an interesting relationship. Erik took note of the way Adonis sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and Andrea licked her lips and touched his arm with her fingertips. 

“Why don’t you come and see me anymore? We used to have a good ass time...what happened with that? Got tired of me?” Andrea says with a single brow raised.

“I’ve been busy,” Adonis looked away awkwardly, the fresh scar above his right brow catching Andrea’s attention. 

“Busy getting into a brawl? What’s that scar about?” 

“You know me…” Adonis turned away, “Can’t pass up a good fight.”

Andrea didn’t hide her sexual appetite for Adonis from the way her eyes swept over his body, silently telling him how his ripped physique turned her on. Just when she allowed her eyes to drop to Adonis’ crotch, Erik was there next to her, the form-fitting Under Armor short sleeve grey top he wore drenched and molding with his well-built curves straining against the fabric. Two sexy men with twin facial features that made her drool like a love-sick dog. 

“Didn’t think you would show up,” Erik held his hand out to shake Adonis’ hand, “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s dope, I love the set up, I especially enjoy this boxing section...I mean, you have everything I need to help me train.” 

“Where were you training before?” Erik asked.

“Delphi Boxing Academy, but I need more free roam, too many new people to train.” Adonis replies. 

“...so, you know Andrea?” Erik looks over at her, her peanut colored skin immediately turning red and the top row of her teeth chewing on her pouty, pink bottom lip nervously. 

“Yeah, we got history,” Adonis cracks a smile, “Maybe I should catch one of your Pilates classes...watch you do that seated toe touch.” 

Erik arched a single thick brow at Adonis’ words. It wasn’t directed towards him but the seductive way he said that had a pool of desire filling the pit of his stomach. Erik knows exactly how that seated toe touch looked. Seated on the floor, knees drawn towards your chest, feet in the air and toes pointed to the sky, a complete view of a woman’s phat pussy or a man’s hefty bulge straining against the fabric of their stretchy leggings or shorts. Erik enjoys fucking a woman with a malleable body just as much as Adonis does it seems. He wouldn’t mind seeing how malleable Adonis can be.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” Andrea gives Adonis one final look up and down before walking away, “my number is still the same.” 

Adonis watches Andrea walk away, “you got a good selection on your staff, bruh.”

“Yup,” Erik agrees, head tilted to the side, dreads shifting across his forehead before he grins, baring his teeth, “gotta have options, a pretty face brings guests, it’s all business.” 

“Well, I admire your business. The dedication and strive to pull something like this together is inspirational. I put my membership in a day ago and was trying to meet with you for a personal tour but your front desk staff said you were out for the day.” Adonis says. 

“Yeah, I’m also a Biological Science Lab Tech two days a week pulling twelve hour shifts.”

“Damn, how the hell do you function?” Adonis says with a shocked voice. 

“You gotta love what you do. You should know, with your own fight club and all, living a double life...working a regular 9-5 during the day I’m guessing?”  Erik says with curious eyes. 

“I’m a Senior Trading Analyst for Smith Boardley Financial Group so, yeah, it’s like living a double life. They don’t ask questions though, which is good.” Adonis’ face shows annoyance as if he didn’t want to talk about his job. Erik senses that maybe Adonis isn’t satisfied with his daytime life, that he feels more free at night and in the ring. He hardly even knew this guy and yet he wanted to know every little detail; ask him questions. He has so many layers to fold back, and besides his reasons behind fighting, Erik hopes to make Adonis admit to his attraction to him. Only thing is, Adonis has to believe it. He’s still uncertain and confused. 

“Why do you fight?”

Silence settles between them for a short while before Adonis finally speaks. 

“Freedom mainly. I want to stop controlling everything and just let go,” Adonis closes his eyes briefly, “if it’s not working out for me...I need to find something that doesn’t...something that doesn’t define me as this perfect dude with a perfect job, and all this fucking money. The things you own end up owning you. The people around you can drag you down. When I fight, I lose control. I’ve been taught at a very young age to bottle up my aggression but all I wanna do is use my hands and to experience some feeling in this numb world...this ‘cocooned society’.” 

“So it’s not about the violence for you? I can understand that. I guess working out is a release for me...that’s an interesting method that I support,” Erik’s eyes scan Adonis’ body, taking a step back so he can blatantly check him out, “I wanna know how this fight club operates...you think I can come watch?” 

Adonis lets go of a laugh, his dimples flashing, “Yeah, man, you can come watch. I’m gonna warn you now though, it can get pretty graphic.”

“Blood? Broken teeth? Nasty scars? That shit don’t phase me,” Erik smiles, allowing his eyes to drop over Adonis’ body. Adonis leans down to grab his water bottle, taking a sip of it and completely avoiding Erik’s unwavering eyes. Why were those eyes making Adonis’ nerves spike up with excitement. It disgruntled him and had Adonis frowning from the feeling. 

“Listen, just don’t be late,” Adonis spoke with finality, placing his face mask back on, “Can’t have people wandering in at the last minute. Come by tomorrow night around 10.” 

Adonis’ change in demeanor has Erik chuckling. He has a habit of wearing his emotions on his face. 

“Will do, bro. Catch you tomorrow...champ,” Erik jeers before leaving Adonis to his training. 

____________________________________________________________

Going Underground Records was Erik’s destination for the late evening. Founded in 2001, Bakersfield's Going Underground Records is Central California's largest and longest running vinyl record store and has recently expanded with a new brick-and-mortar location in Los Angeles. They buy, sell, and trade LPs, 45s, stereo equipment, local concert promotional items (posters, flyers, one-off recordings, etc.) and more. They purchase collections of all sizes, so whether you have a handful, or thousands of records to sell, call or stop by any day of the week. They buy daily and travel to you for large collections. It seems completely deserted from the front but Erik’s instructions from Adonis’ text was to go around back through a basement door. Parking his red Audi R8 across the street, Erik puts out his weed, leaving it in his car. Opening the door, Erik’s left foot hits the wet street. 

Fully out of his car, Erik closes the door, turning to walk across the street towards the record shop. Erik is wearing a camouflage pullover hoodie with black sweats and white Jordan 1’s with a low cut style. Bringing his hood up to cover his freshly twisted locs, Erik saunters down a narrow alleyway before making a left turn ending directly behind the record shop. As soon as he approached the red stainless steel cellar doors, Erik knocks twice, stepping away just in time as a tall, carob-skinned man with a bald head and a single gold hoop earring dressed in a black bomber jacket with a dark purple T-shirt and dark blue denim jeans opens the cellar doors. He looked at Erik in an angry or threatening way, his bug-eyes practically sizing Erik up like he wasn’t welcome. Erik was expressionless, no signs of fear towards this shaq looking man whatsoever, instead, Erik pockets his hands and clears his throat to speak. 

“I’m here for rebellion.” Erik says. He was told to say this at the door from Adonis’ text after the gym yesterday. Erik stopped him before Adonis took off in his matte black Chevy corvette. They exchanged numbers so that Adonis could text him the address and password for entry into the fight club. 

“Why do you seek rebellion?” The man spoke with a voice as hard as the blade of a shovel. 

“Because of this effeminized society that forces me to live a dull and meaningless life,” Erik says with an even tone. 

“Come in, quick,” The man says, “I’m Damion, the owner of this record shop.”

“Erik,” He shook hands with the man before entering the basement of the record shop through the cellar doors. There are metal shelves filled with boxes and janitorial items. Following Damion, Erik could hear hoots and hollers growing louder and louder within the basement. A black drape ahead separated Erik and Damion from the fight club. When the drape was pulled back, the badly lit room with a boxing ring and a crowd of at least thirty people awaited Erik. The shouts and roars are angry and free in Erik’s ears. It smelled like sweat, liquor, weed, and Vaseline mixed with coagulate. 

There, in the middle of the ring with his fists tightly clenched, black boxer shorts hanging low on his hips, and left nose bleeding is Adonis himself. What would be his excuse this time when he went to work the next day? Maybe that he tripped and fell face first, bloodying up his nose. He bares his teeth that are just as bloody as his nose, punching his opponent so hard that they fall to the floor of the ring, his head pinched between the floor of the ring and Adonis’ left knee. Adonis kept slamming his fist into the bridge of his opponents nose——a beefy looking white man with ginger hair and a large leprechaun tattoo on his broad back. He did it again and again in flat hard packing sounds you could hear over all the yelling until the ginger-haired man caught enough breath and sprayed blood to say, stop. Just as those words fell from his lips with difficulty, Adonis stands to his full height, fisting the air with triumph. 

“WHO WANTS NEXT? The night is just getting started!!” Adonis yells, voice like a rising storm, “THE RING IS FREE!”

“I’ll take him on!” A random black guy wearing a FedEx uniform says, pointing to a tall blonde-haired alternative-looking white guy with arm tattoos and nails painted black, “He’s been giving me a dirty look all night, let’s see what your hands are like. I had a long fucking day too,” The FedEx worker removed his hat revealing a clean faded haircut with waves, “Lets go!!! Don’t act scared now!!”

The ginger-haired white man was pulled from the ring, a bloody trail from his face following him. Adonis slid between the ropes and hopped out of the ring, walking through the crowded room until he reached a table with a series of water bottles and towels. Adonis grabs a bottle of water to drink, his grip crushing the plastic bottle before he tosses it away. Erik’s attention was brought back to the ring when the black guy kicked the air out of the alternative white guy then landed on him pounding him limp. The white guy clawed his neck for him to stop and that’s when he backed off with a viscous laugh. The blonde took this opportunity to give him a taste of his medicine. His left fist connected with the black guy's face, spit flying from between his full lips. 

Yeah! Yeah! Kick his ass! 

It was like a raging storm in that room. Erik walks further into the room, bumping shoulders accidentally with a wild amped up Al Pacino look alike with slicked back hair and what looked to be a waiter’s uniform on. These men came all the way here from their boring jobs to relieve some tension. Erik took his spot in a corner, his commanding yet piercing eyes scanning the room. He sought out Adonis again, finding him shouting into the ring. Erik was standing under one of only several lights in the after-midnight blackness of a basement full of men. In the ring two new guys are fighting. One of the men has his opponent's arms behind his head in a full nelson and rammed his face into the ring floor until his teeth bit down on the inside of his cheek. He kept going, even when the guy yelled stop. Adonis jumped into the ring, yanking the guy away and earning a right hook to his face. Erik hisses before grabbing his own jaw as if he could feel it. 

“WHAT ARE THE FUCKING RULES, HUH?!” Adonis head butts him, knocking the guy to the floor before looking down on him with vengeful eyes, “WHEN THEY YELL STOP! YOU FUCKING STOP! Get up,” Adonis throws up his fists, “I said get the fuck up!”

Yeah Adonis! Teach him a lesson!

Body glistening from sweat and muscles perfectly sculpted as if they were carved out of limestone, Adonis beats this man down with just his fists, no special combo move like he’s some wrestler. The guy had enough, throwing his hands up in surrender. Adonis smiles with his blood stained teeth. There’s grunting and noise at fight club like at the gym, but fight club isn’t about looking good. There’s hysterical shouting in tongues like at church, except this isn’t a holy sanctuary like your grandmother would drag you to every Sunday morning to praise and worship. Erik briefly wondered who is responsible for mopping up the blood and sweat from the ring floor after all of this is over. Just standing there watching has his adrenaline spiked. Adonis raises his head towards the ceiling before opening his eyes, the low light making the blood on his face glisten. 

His chocolate eyes scanned the room and when they landed on Erik he seemed to freeze with shock but then a knowing smile appeared on his face. Erik returned the same smile bobbing his head in greeting. Adonis left the ring and squeezed through the small crowd of men before finally coming face to face with Erik. Erik’s eyes sparked as they quickly swept Adonis’ drenched body. He had to suck in a quick breath to calm the pulse coming from his dick. All this charged up, aggressive energy is what Erik craves every time he fucks a man. That fighting back before surrendering to him when all his fat dick enters them. Adonis looked like the type to fight back, Erik really wanted to see that for himself. He hoped it would be sooner rather than later. 

“Looks like underground street fights are a new favorite of mines,” Erik chuckled. 

The corners of Adonis’ eyes crinkled as he smiled, “Didn’t think you would really show up.”

“I’m not all bark and no bite, bruh. When I say I’m gonna be somewhere, I make it happen. Anyway, I ain’t never seen shit like this so I wasn’t about to pass that up,” Erik’s lashes fluttered and his tongue glided across his bottom lip, his gold slugs twinkling in the low light like diamonds. Adonis’ brows knitted and his eyes fell to Erik’s lips. He caught himself staring and backed away, scratching the tip of his nose and taking a deep breath, his pectorals dancing one at a time. Erik’s eyes flickered with mischief and he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I broke the code inviting you here, you know that?” Adonis looks around, “I’m surprised nobody called you out to fight them. When that happens, you have to fight. That’s the rules.” 

“I don’t abide by rules easily,” Erik’s eyes are ablaze but his voice is like melted honey, “And clearly neither do you. I do my own thing. Is there some contract you have to sign to be involved in this shit?”

“First thirty names on the list get in, if you get in, you set up your fight right away, if you want to fight. If not, there are guys that do so maybe you should stay home.” Adonis points to his left brow, “A couple of stitches fixed this, some of these guys leave here with injuries so bad they need a bed in the hospital...It ain’t for everybody.” 

“But yet here they are getting their asses handed to em’,” Erik shakes his head, “Looks like you need a drink.” 

“I do, I was actually headed to the bar around the corner after this,” Adonis lifted a single brow as his eyes peered into Erik’s, “You’re welcome to join me if you want...I can tell you more about the fight club...looks like you’re interested in joining.” 

“Maybe,” Erik surveyed Adonis’ face, “We could get to know each other a little? You know, I feel like you’re a cool dude, wouldn’t mind kickin’ it over drinks.” 

“I don’t see why not,” Adonis gives Erik a quizzical look before backing away, “Meet me at The Spare Room around the corner from here.” 

Erik chuckles as he watches Adonis back away, stroking the length of his beard while he takes in the vibe of Adonis’ body language, “Aight, I’ll be waiting for you at the bar.” 

_____________________________________________________________

“I ordered for you if that’s cool? Whiskey.” 

Adonis is sporting a black and grey Nike zip-up hoodie with matching track pants and black AirMax on his feet. He settles next to Erik at the bar before drumming his fingers nervously on the polished wood of the bar countertop. The bartender serves them two glass tumblers filled with whiskey and a black cocktail straw. Erik removes his straw and drinks straight from the rim of his glass. Adonis stirs the ice in his glass around before taking a hefty sip over the rim as well. 

“What are you going to tell your job tomorrow about that purple bruise under your eye and that bloody nose? You tripped and hit your face against a brick wall?” Erik cracks a smile.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Adonis touches the bruise under his eye, wincing a bit, “That punch was brutal.” 

“I felt that shit myself. Damn, he got your ass good.” 

“And I got his ass right back,” Adonis proclaimed. 

Erik finishes his drink before calling on the bartender for more.

“After a fight I usually get some pussy to calm me down but good pussy is hard to come by these days,” Adonis stretches his back, “I ain’t been in good pussy in a minute…”

Erik’s jaw clenched at the way Adonis said pussy. He glanced over at Adonis, watching him drink from his glass. 

“Shoot Andrea a text, maybe she’ll stop by and give you that pussy you’ve been craving,” Erik motions for 

Adonis to pick up his phone, “The night is still young, ain’t too late to get in that puss...ain’t never too late.”

Adonis arched a single brow at Erik, “...You fuck her?”

“She yours?” Erik twirled his glass while studying his drink.

“Nah, she’s not...but did you hit?”

Erik bites his bottom lip, “Once, around the time I first hired her. She got it.”

“I know, I been it before,” Adonis shakes his head, “You fuck all the women on your staff?” 

“Yeah, if they want this fat dick.” 

Adonis stirred in his seat, “Another round, homie.”

The bartender fills his glass, the liquid sloshing around the only sound between them until the bartender walks away. 

“You mad I dipped into Drea?” Erik asks casually.

“Can’t be mad at that. She’s not mine...remember?” 

“I got this feeling that if she was yours...you would use this bar top to crack my head open,” Erik flashes Adonis a dimpled smile, “That’s if you can though.” 

“You talk like you would want that,” Adonis squinted his eyes. 

“I like aggression,” Erik says with a hushed tone. Adonis looked away, pondering Erik’s words. He couldn’t explain it but the way he said that felt as if he were flirting with him. Adonis pulls his phone out of his pocket at that exact moment to find Andrea’s number. He shoots her a quick you up text before returning to his drink. 

“You from around here,” Adonis asked to clear the growing tension. It only worked a little. 

“South Central. You?” 

“Crenshaw up until the age of twelve, in and out of Juvie until my dad's wife found me…”

“Your mom wasn’t around?” Erik asked.

“She died when I was ten. Never knew my dad until his wife took me in...from there I moved to Tarzana to live in this mansion. My whole life changed. Found out who my pops was too. Apollo Creed.” 

“Shit...you serious?” Erik’s eyebrows disappeared behind his dreads, “Bro...that’s WILD...why didn’t you follow in your father's footsteps?”

“I didn’t want to be known as Apollo Creed’s son and expected to be the next Creed star. I wanted to do my own thing, you know? That pro boxer shit didn’t stroke my curiosity. All the fame, all the attention. Nah, underground street fighting is my thing.”

“I’m sure your old man would be proud either way though, you’re a hot head just like him.” 

Adonis smirks, “That’s what I’ve been told.” 

“I know mine would be proud of me...lost him to the streets back in 92’ when the riots were going on. He was an activist like my momma. He protected me from getting shot on my tricycle. It humbled me...Still got my momma. She moved back to New Orleans two years ago.”

“Those riots were crazy. I’m sorry about your father...shit is tough.” 

Erik sighs, “It is, but it just reminds me of how lucky I am to have him as a father. Made me the man I am today.” 

“Yeah...I got nothing but love for my dad even though I never met him. Took me a while to get here though, it wasn’t a walk in the park. Got siblings I didn’t connect with in the beginning but now we’re tight. Mary Anne...that’s my step-mom’s name, she didn’t have to raise me, could have left me in the system.”

“What was your real mom’s name?”

“Vivica. She was an aspiring model. My dad met her at some Hollywood party. They slept around for a while but then Mary Anne found out so he ended things. My mom got pregnant, kept the pregnancy a secret until she passed from a brain aneurysm. By then my pops was already gone. Mary Anne found out and raised me.”

“Man,” Erik dragged his hand down his face, “This whole conversation turned heavy so quick. Let’s fill up these glasses, we need more liquor.”

“I second that.”

The bartender gladly refilled their glasses. For a little while longer, Erik and Adonis talked, learning more about each other. They argued about their favorite Anime, the best clubs in LA, and other random shit that had them laughing. They had only met about six days ago and they talked like old friends catching up. Adonis asks for a bottle of water since he has to drive. The bartender brings him his bottle at the precise moment that his phone buzzes. Picking up his phone, Adonis unlocks it to find a text with an image attached from Andrea. Opening the text, Adonis’ eyes became stormy with lust and his bottom lip poked out with need. 

“Goddamn,” He muttered. Andrea always knew how to get him worked up. She’s on the floor naked with her legs spread wide in front of her floor mirror, peanut skin glistening from whatever body oil she used and that phat, creamy pussy with all her glistening pink spread open and freshly waxed for him to come play with. He remembers how sweet she tastes. Adonis’ tongue rolled around his teeth before forcing his eyes away, locking the phone and placing it within his pocket. He was about to be all up in that pussy. 

“Andrea?” Erik says with a sly smirk. 

“Yeah...she really miss me,” Adonis retrieves his wallet from his pocket, “I can cover the drinks—“

“It’s already on my tab, bruh. Don’t worry about it. Go ahead and handle your business.” 

“You ain’t have to do that, Erik,” Adonis stands from his stool.”

“Think of it as a victory drink for the champion of underground street fighting,” Erik held up his glass to Adonis before knocking back the rest of the contents. 

“I hope that’s your last drink, your eyes are so fucking low.” 

“It is, I gotta get home, I’m pretty tired,” Erik tells the bartender to close his tab before standing from his seat. He dabs Adonis, bringing him in for a brief bro hug, pulling away so that his cologne wouldn’t have his dick brushing up against his. He didn’t need that to happen so soon. 

“I’ll holla at you, Erik,” Adonis turns to leave the bar. 

Erik watches him exit before short, heated breaths escaped his mouth. Erik signs his receipt before leaving himself. While walking to the car, Erik pulls his phone from his hoodie pocket, scrolling through his messages, and finding the person he was looking for. 

Erik: Still on for tomorrow night with you and hubby?

Jodie: Absolutely💕 we’ll see you tomorrow night! Can’t wait 😘

______________________________________________________________

Andrea has an apartment at the Madison Toluca in North Hollywood, CA. It’s a three bedroom, two bathroom apartment with a black, red, and white color scheme. Adonis arrived shortly after 12:30 AM and knocked on her door. Her All black Yorkipoo—-a mixed breed of a Yorkshire terrier and a poodle, named Cookie was barking at the door when he knocked. Andrea could be heard yelling at Cookie before opening her door. Andrea beamed at Adonis with her big round eyes bewitching and her smile wide and pretty. She was wearing a teal blue Nike sports bra with a pair of black high crotch panties and bare feet. Her platinum blonde pixie cut is wet and slicked back from her shower and her peanut skin still glowed from the oil on her body. 

“I didn’t get a response from you so I didn’t think you would show up,” Andrea stepped to the side to allow Adonis entry, “What made you text me tonight to see if I was up?”

“You know how I get after a fight.”

 Adonis closed the space between them and grabbed the back of Andrea’s neck, tilting her head back enough to have her back bending before his thick tongue slithered up her neck and to her lips for a kiss. Adonis always itched for sex after a fight. His dick on swole and his hands unexcused Adonis cuffed Andrea’s ass, damn near pulling her from the ground. They continued to kiss, suck, and lick all over each other’s mouth to savor the taste. 

“Damn, got my dick heavy right now, girl,” Adonis squeezes Andrea’s ass, “come on, I want that pretty pussy.” 

“Donnie,” Andrea moaned, voice as pure and sweet as if from heaven, “I miss the way you used to fuck me.” 

“Uh-huh?” Adonis lifts Andrea off her feet, wrapping her legs around him, “How I used to fuck you?” 

“So good baby,” Andrea thumbed Adonis’ pouty bottom lip before peppering light kisses along them, “I miss your lips on my pussy too.” 

“I can’t wait to taste it again, is she still nice and creamy?”

“Always, daddy,” Andrea’s body shook with anticipation in his arms, “Damn...I’m shaking.” 

“It’s because you need this just as much as I do.” 

“I miss your big dick stuffing me,” Andrea dragged her kisses down Adonis’ neck. 

“You miss the way daddy used to give it to you?”

“Ooh, yes—“ 

“I’ma tear you up, Drea.” 

Adonis brought Andrea to her bedroom, flopping down with her straddling his lap. Andrea giggles like she always does while Adonis kisses along her neck and tongues her cleavage. Andrea’s breath is coming out shallow and fast. Adonis grabbed her face, making her look at him. 

“Breathe,” Adonis pecked her nose, “This dick ain’t going nowhere,” Adonis smirked, “It’s all for you, girl.”

“This my dick?” Andrea leans back so that she could grab for Adonis’ crotch, “It’s so goddamn thick goddamn baby.”

“I’m tryna make you cream all over it.”

Adonis was in an intense tongue-lock with Andrea while she stroked him through his track pants. She broke the kiss with a trail of spit before lifting from Adonis’ lap and dropping to her knees. A constant hiss escaped her mouth as she fumbled with his track pants. Discovering his waistband, Andrea pulls his pants and briefs down and around his ankles. That fat, long, swinging dick almost hit her in the face. Andrea grabs it before putting it right in her mouth where it belongs. While Andrea Gluck-Glucked Adonis removed his hoodie and the black T-shirt beneath it. 

“I just wanna fuck your face and eat your pussy until you can’t take it anymore,” Adonis tilted his head back, “Drea, fuck.” 

Adonis curses under his breath when Andrea gave his heavy balls some attention before bringing her lips back to that fat tip. Adonis dragged his fingers through her wet, short platinum blonde strands before palming the back of her neck and forcing more dick into her mouth. The loud slurping was something Adonis missed heavily. His hips were practically off of the bed now, lip between his teeth and eyebrows knitted together. 

“I miss this fucking mouth,” Adonis fucked Andrea’s mouth, “Shit, Drea, you still got it girl, this mouth is still a beast.” 

Andrea smirked before stroking his spit covered dick while sucking the tip. She really missed his dick from the way she was eating it up. Adonis wasn’t about to stop her, he simply widened his legs and laid back on his elbows. 

“You finna have a nigga bust,” Adonis’ abdomen flexed, “I needed this so fucking bad, make me bust, girl.” 

The eye contact she was giving him had Adonis balls so full with his tasty cum. 

“Just loving on me,” He says before chewing on his bottom lip, “Mmhmmm,” his eyes closed and his brows pressed together tightly. 

Andrea planted her hands on the bed and started bobbing her head up and down his dick while moving her head in a circular motion. 

“Slow down...yes, yes, like that,” Adonis’ lips parted. 

He could literally feel the corners of the inside of Andrea’s mouth and her tight pouty lips nice and steady on his dick. She manipulated that muscular organ in her mouth to flick back and forth on the base of his dick and his balls each time she went down. 

“Love on my dick, babygirl, Drea I’m about to bust, you ready?” Adonis’ eyes squeezed shut and he completely fell back against the bed, “good girl slurp all that shit up oh my fucking God,” Adonis exploded in Andrea’s mouth damn near making her choke. 

“Get up here,” He says, picking Andrea up and bringing her on the bed. Andrea was on her knees, shaking her slim thick booty in his face, her pussy wide with anticipation. Her cream made a mess of her pussy and it was begging to be licked up. Adonis smacks each ass cheek before giving both of them a nice, appreciative kiss. His lips tickled and they felt so moist against Andrea’s skin. She widened her thighs and arched her back more, practically pushing her pussy into Adonis’ face for him. 

“You shoving this beautiful pussy in my face?”

Andrea nods her head with a bite of her lip. Adonis turns around, laying his head between Andrea’s thighs before wrapping one arm around her waist with the other hand occupied with jerking his fat pole. Andrea sat on his face fully before grinding Adonis’ lips. He leans forward to place his lips on her pussy, serving her tongue with long trails of spit. The wiggle of his wet tongue had her lifting up on her hands, thighs shaking. Adonis takes both of his thumbs, peeling her open.

His damn tongue.

“Ooh, yes, Donnie.” 

Her entire body shivered.

Adonis’ tongue was dripping with spit and warm against her inner folds. He was in the middle of spelling out his name with the tip of his tongue all up and down her slit. With the D Andrea’s body shivered. With the O she started shuddering in breaths of gasping completion. With the two N’s Andrea clawed the bed. The letter I made a shape over her clit at the right angle. After the E He sucked her pussy into his mouth. 

“When you lick me you never miss a spot,” She said with a voice like the harmony of angles. Adonis lapped at her pussy some more in response to her words, “Donnie, please don’t stop, baby...I’m gonna cum, Donnie keep doing that to me.” 

Adonis gave her sloppy suction kisses down to her entrance and back up to her clit, keeping her lips apart so he could really get inside. He repeated and repeated, slurping and sucking and licking and kissing. He went faster and faster and she bucked her hips into his mouth, cries getting louder and louder.

“Mmmm, yes, do it like that,” Andrea said with a sensual voice. 

“How bad do you want to cum?” Adonis said before he slurped on her clit and her labia at the same time, moaning himself feeling his precum wet his fingers.

 “Really bad daddy...I wanna cum so fucking bad from your dirty mouth...make me scream.”

“Fuck. You may be a sweetheart but you a freak for sure.” 

Adonis concentrates on tonguing and sucking all the spots that have Andrea’s hips bucking and her pussy smothering him. 

“Daddy...guess what?” Andrea’s eyes watered and heat crept up her body. 

“Uh-huh, I got that pussy cumming?” Adonis’ words are muffled with the way his lips trailed all over Andrea’s pussy. 

With that Andrea’s body froze as her orgasm washed over her. Remembering how good Adonis ate her pussy wasn’t enough for her. Now she was experiencing it again while sitting on his face. He was going for round two from what it felt like. He kept saying over and over how much he needed her beautiful phat pussy and how he was going to dick her down just like that with her back arched. Andrea was ready to crawl off of him when her second orgasm hit her. She squealed so loud her throat went raw. Satisfied, Adonis resurfaced, his lips and freshly shaved chin glistening from her juicy folds. 

“Come taste how sweet you are.” 

Andrea turns, wrapping her arms around Adonis’ shoulders before licking his lips. She hummed with satisfaction while pulling him down on top of her body. 

“Pussy is gushy baby,” Adonis held all his body weight up on one hand while the other played with Andrea’s folds, “That pussy just needs me in it...I could tell from how your eyes lit up when you saw me… miss the way I bust this tight kitty open...I wanna stick my dick so deep in it.”

Adonis leans down on his elbow to kiss Andrea again while he rubbed her clit. His dick is like a swinging pendulum between his legs right now, desperate and hard for Andrea’s pussy. Adonis has enough of teasing Andrea with how fast his heart beats and how painfully hard he is. Grabbing his dick, mixing the wetness on his fingers from her pussy on his pre-cum laden dick, Adonis lined up with Andrea’s pussy before thrusting in slowly, widening her thighs at the same time. Adonis groaned when he was fully inside, making sure to watch her face so that he could see all of her expressions. 

“Ahhh, yes, that’s it.” 

Adonis’ muscular body was mesmerizing from that angle. He began to roll his hips, working all that girth and length in and out of Andrea. Adonis felt Andrea’s pussy squeeze his dick and it only made him go harder. Adonis pulls Andrea’s sports bra off, her perky breasts with dark brown nipples reminding him of Hershey kisses blessing his eyes. Adonis sucked on each titty while he strokes her pussy. The double sensation has Andrea creamy and the macaroni and cheese sound of her pussy grew louder and louder between them. 

“You taking this dick just like you used to,” Adonis pushes her thighs back, “Fuck all that moaning call me daddy while I’m in it.” 

“Daddy,” Andrea whispered. 

“Look at it Drea,” Adonis whispered back. 

Andrea’s eyes traveled down the length of Adonis’ magnificent body to his long, thick dick spreading her open. She couldn’t put into words how full she felt. 

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Adonis whispered, “This how Erik fucked this pussy?”

Andrea’s eyes flicked up to Adonis’ face quickly. She went red with embarrassment, ragged gasps leaving her mouth. 

“What? Answer the question,” Adonis pushed his dick all the way in. Andrea could feel it tickle her navel. 

“Yessssssss,” Andrea answered with an uneven breath. 

“He fuck this pussy in your bed, Drea?” Adonis’ hips were smacking into the back of her thighs, “What he do, girl?”

“He-he fu-fucked me in my b-bed,” Andrea stuttered. Adonis heard himself grunt at her response. Had he ever gotten off on another man fucking the same chick as him? No. Probably wouldn’t have cared in the past but for some reason, knowing that Erik hit Drea too has him harder than he was seconds ago.

“You call him daddy?” 

“Yes!!! Donnie, baby, it’s so much dick,” Andrea’s face frowned with ecstasy.

“And this pussy is good so you’re getting all this dick, baby,” Adonis reaches up to grab onto Andrea’s headboard and she knows what that means. Andrea held onto his waist with a death grip to prepare herself. Adonis started descending his dick all at once in Andrea’s pussy. No pause, no warning, just nothing but a fat dick with all its length sinking into her drenched pussy fluently. It felt like she wasn’t in control of her body anymore. 

“Donnie, please please please,” Her mouth opened, no words escaping. 

“Did he call you his nasty little girl?” Adonis says with a voice so gruff and guttural. He looked down at his dick working the hell out of Andrea’s pussy. The muscles in his back and arms burned in a good way. He was tearing Andrea up from this angle, “Got me going crazy in this pussy...I needed this pussy.” 

“Daddy, daddy I’m gonna squirt,” Andrea’s toes curled. Her body didn’t feel like it belonged to her anymore with the way Adonis was taking her pussy. Andrea trembled while her pussy leaked it’s sweet juices all over his dick. 

“Got that pussy cumming?!! You ain’t answer my question...he calls you his nasty little girl?” 

“No,” she spoke faintly, “He called me his nasty little bitch.” 

Adonis bit down on his lip hard. He pumped her fast a few more times before withdrawing from her tightness, flipping her over and arching her back deep. 

“Nasty little bitch? Huh? You like that name?” Adonis sounded harsh, “Keep that ass up Drea, come on baby...I got something for you.” 

“DADDY!!” Andrea wasn’t prepared for that big surprise just now. Adonis has both of his large hands on her waist while he plowed her. She never had this rough amount of treatment from him. 

“Daddy, shit,” her shoulders fell forward against the bed. High-pitched moans filled the room and her cheeks smacking and ricocheting off of Adonis’ rock hard hips was stinging her flesh. He was hostile and she loved the change. Sure, Adonis’ much gentle side was always just as good but to see him use her body the way he was it had her squirting and she never experienced squirting while having sex with him. She needed more of this. 

“Throw it back, Drea, keep going, baby,” Adonis watched her struggle. It didn’t matter to him, his big dick was nice and wet. 

“Nasty little girl, huh?” 

“Yes,” Her breath was rattled. 

“Come on and make this dick cum.” Adonis grabbed her hips, forcing her back to take all his length. Andrea screamed.

“That’s how you do it, so do it, girl, I’m not showing you again,” Adonis watched her do it right this time with a smirk, “That’s my nasty little girl… take this dick...keep taking this dick.”

“Daddy-“

“Why is this lil’ pussy so fat? Damn,” Adonis felt his nut sack jump, “Look at this beautiful, fat pussy, go ahead and cum Drea, go ahead baby.” 

“Yes, daddy, Unh!!!!!” 

Andrea slows down, Adonis taking over again, giving it to her and moaning the closer he got to cumming. 

“That pretty pussy, fuck, take this nut girl,” Adonis’ words were stuck in his throat the second he let off in her pussy with his thick cum. Thank God she was taking contraceptives because she would be pregnant with all his damn babies with how thick and heavy his load is. Adonis retracted his hips, dick sliding out and his cum dripping from Andrea’s gaping entrance. His dick left a serious imprint with how much wider her slick hole is. 

“Damn,” Andrea’s body turned over, “That was some kind of fucking,” she giggles, wiping sweat from her face, “What’s gotten into you, Donnie? baby, you were wild in this pussy tonight.” 

“Lack of pussy does that to you,” Adonis stood from the bed, stretching out his back muscles. Andrea tilted her head while staring at his dick. 

“Round two?” Andrea begged. 

Adonis sighed, “I need some water first.” 

“How do you know Erik anyway?” 

Adonis shrugged, “Comic Con. It was a random situation. He gave me his business card and that’s how I ended up at his gym.” 

Andrea gave Adonis a playful smile, “Are you mad that I fucked him? It was only once, Adonis.” 

“Nah, I’m not mad,” Adonis gave Andrea a once-over with his chocolate eyes, “But you liked that I brought it up...that pussy was choking my dick.” 

“I did. Maybe we should have a threesome. I would love it if you both fucked me.” 

Adonis felt his chest grow tight from her words. His face twisted up with confusion at the feeling. Was that...anticipation? Nervous excitement? 

“Maybe, you should get on all fours again so I can come back and get some more of that pussy,” Adonis responded before leaving her room to grab them both some water. 

_____________________________________________________________

Parked on a hill on Valley Ridge Ave. in View Park, CA,

Erik pulled out his phone to remind himself of the address. 4515. DVSN- Still Pray for You stopped playing when Erik turned his car off. Air Jordan 3 Retro’s, Khaki cargo pants, white T-shirt, a denim jacket, and layered gold chains was Erik’s outfit for the evening. His dreads are side swept, a few of them falling in his eyes. He slouched slightly in his gait, oozing confidence. The home is an iconic 1930 Spanish Revival with stunning city views, exceptional vintage details, custom modern updates, a large beautiful private yard with a tiered flat grassy area, patio, and an herb garden. Jogging up the steps, Erik knocked on the green door, stepping back before swatting away a moth that lingered near the porch light. 

The door unlocked, Jodie standing before Erik with a glass of red wine in her hand and a long charcoal grey T-shirt dress with a high slit, coffee brown eyes fringed with false lashes and copper skin looking soft and silky. Her lush lips are glossy and her blue-black hair is in a sleek low bun. Erik’s eyes traveled from her toes that are painted a fuchsia pink up her shapely legs, over her poked out hip and up to her heart-shaped face. Sweet notes of apple and apricot wafted from her skin the closer Erik got to her. He leaned down to kiss her glossy lips delicately, his tongue tasting the gloss. Jodie’s oval-shaped pink ombré nail skimmed Erik’s jawline with fascination. 

“Hi,” Jodie said with a pleasant voice. 

“Hey,” Erik whispered back, the suave way he said it causing Jodie to nibble on her lip. 

“Do you want some wine?” Jodie offered. 

“I’ll take some wine,” Erik closes Jodie’s front door, “Where is the party?”

“For now, in the living room.” 

Jodie pointed towards the area in question before walking away with a sway of her extremely thick hips towards the kitchen. Erik found the living room, Jodie’s husband, Vance, seated on the couch, smoking some weed, denim cut-off shorts on, an olive green linen short sleeve button-down shirt with a bandanna print open and revealing his athletic body. The deep brown complexion of his skin looked satiny beneath the living room lights. His chiseled face with sharp cheekbones made him look like a male model and Erik especially loved the nose ring on his broad nose. His full lips smirked at him before taking yet another puff of weed. That fresh fade with glossy waves and perfectly groomed beard has Erik lusting even more. 

Vance spoke with a husky voice, “Erik...glad you came.” 

“Me too...let me hit that.”

Vance shared his weed with Erik. 

“Training TRX on Wednesday next week?” Vance asked. 

“I am. I’m not here to talk about my gym though, you know that,” Erik said, savoring the weed, “I ain’t know you went both ways, Vance.” 

Vance cracked a smile, “Yeah, I’m bisexual. Me and Jodie. We’ve been trying to hook up a threesome with a man for a while and then Jodie said she saw you out a few weeks ago at the Avalon with some dude tonguing him down.”

“A date I met on Tinder, fucked him good that night too,” Erik’s head relaxed against the couch, licking his lips to the memory. 

“I bet you did,” Vance passed the weed, “He takes it well too?”

“He needed to be trained, but I’m good at that..have them coming back for more in no time.” 

“Mm,” Vance’s eyes glossed down to Erik’s crotch where his dick print was visible on his left thigh. Vance shook his head as his breath rushed out. Erik was a big boy. 

“You looking for something?” Erik spoke softly, the sensation of the weed sweeping deeper, “it’s right here,” Erik squeezed his dick, the cargo pants molding around the shape of it, “You want this dick?” Erik’s eyes looked at Vance’s big lips and he just knew those juicy lips would feel fucking fantastic sucking on him. 

“I do, I want that dick.” 

“Put that weed out and come get it, that’s why I’m here right? Get the fuck over here,” Erik takes off his denim jacket, widening his thighs, “That pretty ass mouth you got...I need my dick sucked now…do it slow too.” 

Vance’s hand gripped Erik’s dick through his pants. Erik made it jump against his hand. Vance let out a groan. 

“Come on, boy, my shit is thick right now.” 

Vance went to work on Erik’s pants, pulling them down and around his ankles. He couldn’t wait to satisfy the beautiful massive dick in front of his eyes. Slide that big dick in his hungry mouth and drain his balls. Speaking of balls...they are heavy and soft to the touch. Erik slouched, pulling his T-shirt up to reveal his taut abdomen, defined pectorals, and bulging biceps. His dick was standing up and the veins looked like a work of art on his chocolate pole. 

“From the way you’re looking at it I can tell you’ve been wondering just how big this dick is...right, nigga?”

“Yes…”

“Yeah...it’s here for you and your wife...where is wifey at anyway? Jodie!” Erik called for her.

“I’m here—Ooh,” Jodie sauntered over and placed Erik’s wine on the coffee table. She’s in her purple lace bra and panties set. Jodie dropped to her knees next to Vance. She stared at Erik’s dick in a trance. 

“Let me feel those soft ass lips, Vance,” Erik slapped Vance on the cheek, startling him, “Yeah, you taking too long, baby boy, all this fat dick in front of you. Show your wife how you suck some nut out of the dick.”

“Damn, Erik,” Jodie’s eyes are love-struck. 

Vance gripped Erik’s dick and pumped him nice and steady, making sure to squeeze a little just beneath the tip of his dick so he could watch his pre-cum spill from his slit. Spreading the pre-cum along the sides of Erik’s dick, Vance’s big lips engulfed half of Erik’s dick, bobbing his head while reaching down to gently squeeze his balls. Erik kept his gaze pointed downward, looking from his dick being sucked by Vance and Jodie watching with envious eyes. Jodie has to grab hold of something so she placed her hand over Vance’s erection, his visible erection pressed hard against his denim cut-offs. 

“Two big dicks just for me,” Jodie spoke with excitement. 

“Don’t worry, ma, you’ll have some of this dick in your mouth too, Fuckkkk...yeah, suck that shit...suck that fat dick...oooh, you really wanted this shit, hungry ass nigga...don’t get too greedy your wife need some of that too.”

“Yes I do,” Jodie has Vance’s jeans and briefs down with his dark chocolate dick in her hand, nice and warm. It’s more so long than girthy. She jerked him while watching Vance slurp up Erik. 

“Vance...baby...get that dick,” She whimpered. 

Erik will never get over how good Vance’s lips feel. He thrust his hips, forcing more girth and length into Vance’s greedy mouth. Damn, he can deep throat too. 

“Look at you deep throating this wood, boy. You miss big black dick in your mouth, yeah? Miss a nice pair of heavy balls too? I got a load waiting just for you...all you gotta do is be a good boy…”

Erik’s eyes went so low that his long lashes made them seem like they are closed. Jodie’s hand twisted Vance’s erection and each time Erik’s dick hit the back of Vance’s throat, his dick would jump in Jodie’s hand. She arched her back and brought her lips to Vance’s dick. Jodie wasted no time slurping along Vance’s dick. One look at Jodie’s ass in the air has Erik reaching down, his thick fingers clawing her lace panties and yanking them from her ass in pieces. That action made her lips tighten around Vance’s dick and Vance moaned. 

“How that dick taste Jodie?” Erik asked. 

“Delicious,” She said before slurping Vance up some more. 

“Got that phat ass in the air...I already know that pussy phat with the way it sits in your leggings at the gym…”

“Mmm,” Vance cast his eyes upwards watching as Erik’s toned abdomen is exposed, reaching up to run his hand along the deep ridges of the cut muscle, slurping along his dick. He worked more of Erik into his mouth until his nose touched his trimmed hairs, feeling his length curve down his throat as he took him all the way. 

Jodie was in the middle of gagging on Vance’s dick, her spit staining the carpet the more she tried to swallow him. She reached beneath her, hand finding her creamy pussy before spreading her folds to rub her clit in circles. Erik could hear Jodie’s pussy from his seat on the couch. He groans deep, mouth hanging open from the way Vance was sucking him. He tilts his head to watch Jodie while holding the back of Vance’s head to fuck his throat. 

“FUCK!” Erik let out the curse before gripping Vance’s throat, hips jerking from how purposefully tight Vance’s lips are as his mouth slipped off, “Let Jodie have some.” 

Jodie’s lips popped off of Vance’s dick. Erik gazed at Vance’s dark brown dick. All that dark chocolate. He’s long as fuck too. Ain’t nothing Erik can’t handle down his throat. Too bad tonight was his night to get all the work. Jodie moaned before gripping Erik’s spit covered dick. Her tongue flicked Erik’s dick before she locked eyes with him, batting her false lashes like she’s innocent with all that fat dick in her mouth. 

“Damn, girl, crazy with it,” Erik leaned forward to slap both of Jodie’s cheeks hard, “Got all this hard dick down your pretty little throat...got your Hubby taking off his clothes...you see your wife sucking my dick, Vance? She a dick hungry bitch.” 

Vance is completely naked now. He pumped his long dick while leaning over Erik’s lap to hope for Jodie’s lips to slip off so he could take over again. Jodie lets her throat get fucked, gagging only slightly before fighting it back down, eyes turned up to watch the pleasure on Erik’s face as she feels Erik’s dick stretching out her esophagus. Jodie moans around his length, reveling in the taste of Erik on her tongue.

“Jodie,” Vance calls to her while gently squeezing Erik’s balls, “put his dick in my mouth.”

“You want some more of his hard, thick dick? Here,” Jodie feeds Vance Erik’s dick, “Suck it baby…”

“Husband and wife working together...Jodie...let me see that pussy,” Erik showed her how wide his tongue is. 

Jodie climbed onto the couch, turning with her ass facing Erik before bending over on her knees. Her pussy lips are pushed between her thick thighs. Two slippery lips that he wanted to kiss. 

“Spread your cheeks so I can see all that pink pussy...mmmmm,” Erik hisses, “Pussy creamy as fuck,” Erik licks his fingers before resting them on Jodie’s protruding clit and labia. He loved how smooth and soft she is. It looked like chocolate and from the way she tasted on his fingers it was just as sweet too. 

“Come here,” Erik spoke firmly, slapping Jodie’s ass, “lay on your back and spread your thighs so I can finger fuck you.”

“Unh—“

“I wanna feel how tight this little pussy is.” 

Vance jerks Erik’s dick before slobbering on the tip of his dick, “It’s tight...she’ll grip you.” 

“That’s what I want, right Miss Jodie?” 

“Yes, daddy,” Jodie says with a lick of her lips. 

“There you go, baby boy, suck that fucking dick up, suck daddy’s dick up,” Erik demanded. He could feel his balls grow tight and he knew what that meant. He didn’t want to cum yet, not until he had his dick in Vance’s ass and Jodie’s pussy. 

“Erik,” Jodie called to him with a melodic voice. 

Erik watched her bring her knees to her chest, that pussy wide open and her slippery hole winking at him. Erik couldn’t hold back from rubbing Jodie’s clit back and forth before slapping it, causing her to whimper. Erik smoothed his fingers down her pussy before pushing two fingers inside, biting his lip at the way Jodie gasped. 

“Tight fucking puss,” Erik strokes with a curl of his fingers, “I’m digging baby?”

“Yess,” She cries.

“I hear that pussy,” Vance says with spit hanging from his mouth. 

“Come suck her clit,” Erik commanded. Vance and Erik got down on the floor between Jodie’s thighs. Vance spreads her pussy lips so wide that her labia stretched. Erik was astounded when he saw how much cream spilled from Jodie’s pussy. Vance’s tongue curved at the tip while he teased her big clit. 

“Clit big as fuck, Vance stop playing, suck that shit up. Clit nice and phat like that you better suck it.” 

When Vance’s lips wrapped around Jodie’s clit she moaned to the ceiling. Vance reached up to pull the cups of her bra down, her big, round breasts spilling over, creating a mouthful. Erik damn near drooled. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth while his fingers played all in Jodie’s pussy. Vance was slurping loudly on her pussy and it had Erik slapping Vance’s firm ass. 

“Yeah, nigga,” Erik says, “Got the whole puss in your mouth, make this bitch cum...say, I’ma make this pretty pussy cum.” 

“I’ma make this pretty pussy cum,” Vance says before French kissing Jodie’s clit. 

“I’ma make it squirt,” Erik flicked his tongue on Jodie’s nipple before showing some attention to the other. Jodie gripped his dreads when he went back and forth with sucking her nipples. He had her thrusting her chest into his mouth. 

“Grip me like that again, go ahead, ima put my face in your pussy next,” Erik spoke roughly. 

“Eat my pussy up,” Jodie widened her legs, “There’s plenty...slurp me up daddy.” 

“Nasty bitch, I like you,” Erik was face to face with Vance, “Let me see how that clit fit in my mouth.” 

Vance chuckles before giving Erik some room to eat on Jodie. He helped him by keeping her pussy lips open. Erik was still working his fingers, practically stirring all in Jodie’s creamy cavern. Erik kisses Jodie’s clit, the pecks slowly turning into full blown French kisses that has him opening his mouth wide to wrap his lips around her. 

“Mhm,” Erik’s eyes rolled shut.

“Taste good, yeah?” Vance said while extending his neck to kiss Jodie’s lips, “That’s your pussy on my tongue.”

“Mmm, I taste lovely.” 

Erik spits on Jodie’s clit before working his tongue with so much gusto that Jodie and Vance watched with awe. 

“Ooooh, He’s stroking my pussy with those thick fingers...oooh, I’ma squirt…Vance, baby, he’s gonna make me squirt, baby,” Jodie grabbed for the back of the couch. She became spasmodic and Vance had to hold her down and kiss her lips to distract her so Erik can keep going. That bitch was leaking all in Erik’s mouth. He sucked her up again before tasting his fingers. Vance leaned over Jodie’s lap, getting some of Jodie’s pussy too. 

“Pussy is so goddamn good,” Erik gripped Jodie’s jaw, pressing his lips into hers, “I can’t wait to bust your shit wide open, let’s take this shit to the bed.”

Pulling his lips away, Vance stands with Erik, both of them picking Jodie up. She had her legs wrapped around Erik while Vance stood behind her cupping her titties. Erik bounced Jodie on him like he was fucking her standing. Vance kissed and sucked on her neck at the same time. All three of them took their fun to the bedroom. Jodie grabs some condoms from her dresser, begging to watch Erik fuck Vance first while she rode his face. Vance went to lay on the bed, his knees drawn to his chest. Erik was blessed with the sight of Vance’s tight asshole and heavy balls with his dick resting against his toned abdomen. Jodie climbed on top of Vance’s mouth, turning to give Erik the condom and lube. 

Erik spits on Vance’s asshole before sticking his finger inside. With his free hand, Erik jerks Vance’s long dick 

To keep him solid so he could have something beautiful and chocolate to look at while he banged his ass. Jodie was currently popping her pussy on Vance’s tongue, legs in a squat so her pussy could be nice and spread for him to suck up. It was a beautiful sight. Erik almost wanted to bust from that alone. Staring at Vance’s body now made him think about Adonis. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. Adonis. Nice big lips, sexy rock-hard body, aggressive and competitive, sexy smile, chocolate eyes all intense at one minute then gentle the next, the way he fights…

“Erik I love the way your finger feels in my ass.” 

Vance’s words broke him out of his trance.

“Yeah? Ain’t shit compared to this dick, boy,” Erik removes his finger, grabbing up the magnum to place on his dick. Rolling it over his glans all the way down to the root, Erik applies a little bit of lube for some extra slip. Bending his knees, Erik forced Vance’s thighs back before slapping the weight of his dick against his ass, sinking inside of his warm, tight ass. 

“Damn boy...damn...ass tight as fuck,” Erik started grinding his hips, “Feel all that thick dick pumping?” 

Jodie looked over her sweaty shoulder and saw Erik’s fat condom covered dick thrusting in and out of Vance’s ass. She felt chills all over her flesh and the sexy moans against her pussy and groans from Erik made her cream even more. Jodie can see Erik and Vance’s muscles ripple and flex with their movement. Jodie turned around so that she could 69 with Vance, grabbing his long dick up and going straight at it with a bob of her head. Vance clapped her cheeks before eating both of her holes. 

“Fuck, that’s what I’m talking about Jodie, eat that dick up,” Erik pushes her head down further, “There you go, deep throat that shit.”

Vance was working his hips to take all of Erik’s dick, Erik caught that, rolling his hips to meet Vance half-way so that his dick could be all up in his ass. 

“Got this nigga working his hips to get all this wood,” Erik bites his lip, “ass is creaming already too.” 

“Mmm, I wanna see,” Jodie jerks Vance’s dick while admiring her husband's creamy asshole grip Erik’s dick, “Vance...baby...he got you creamy, mmmm, Vance.

Vance moaned into Jodie’s pussy with each suck. 

“That’s it baby, make this pussy cum...oooh I feel you tugging on that clit, make me nut baby,” Jodie’s eyes almost crossed, Oh God...Oh God...fuuuuuuckkkkkkk babyyyyyyyyyyy—“

“Face hella sexy when you bust, girl,” Erik wrapped his arms around Vance’s thighs and started ramming his dick deep, big balls slapping against his ass. Vance’s core tightened and it seemed to shoot straight to his dick because now he’s cumming in Jodie’s hand. Jodie licked as much away as she could but he kept on erupting. It was Erik’s pounding deep in that ass that had him making a big mess. 

“Oh shit, Erik, fuck,” Vance stared between Jodie’s thighs at Erik, “Dick is all up my ass——“

“I’m taking this ass?” 

“Yes, daddy.”

Jodie could not stop looking at Erik’s hard dick fucking Vance so good. Erik leaned over Vance, his naked chest and those gold chains hanging over Vance’s body. His dreads hung low and he bit down on his lip, working his hips fast and skillful. Jodie needed that dick in her pussy. 

“Ima nut again,” Vance’s handsome face crumbled, “Fuck, Erik, ima bust—-“

“Yeah, nigga, I’ma make that dick cum while I beat this ass up good.” 

Jodie cupped her pussy and rubbed it up and down to the sight of Vance shooting out yet another thick load. Erik pulled out and rocked back on his heels, watching the way Vance’s ass quivered. There is a creamy puddle beneath his ass. Erik removes the condom, walking to Jodie’s dresser to grab another. Rolling it over his still hard erection, Erik walks up to Jodie picking her up and wrapping her legs around him. Erik sits back on the bed, Jodie over him with his hands cradling her ass.

“It’s time to get in you now...nothing but dick deep in your guts…”

Vance stood up from the bed and jerked his dick watching Jodie grab Erik’s dick herself, squatting over his dick before lowering her hips, that thick dick nothing but a flesh covered pole for her to fuck. Jodie was up on her feet, upper body bending over so she could bounce her hips. Her ass cheeks clapped with each bounce while she fed her pussy some dick. Vance went to lay next to Erik so that he could have a better look at his wife handling Erik’s dick. 

“You see that sexy little pussy taking all this dick?” Erik says to Vance before his eyes zeroed in on Vance’s erection, “Dick long as fuck...tear some ass up with this.” 

Erik started Jerking Vance’s dick.

“Get that dick, ma, nasty ass bitch...got my dick all in that pussy...I bet that ass looks real juicy bouncing…”

“This big ass dick.”

Jodie’s cream coated the condom.

“Good dick…” She moaned, “mmmmm, some good fucking dick...so thick...Unh, so good.”

“She’s loving that,” Vance says before grunting from Erik’s thumb stroking his tip, “I love that fat dick too.”

“I know you do, baby boy,” Erik gives Vance a sexy smirk. 

Erik liked the feel of Vance’s dick in his hand but he couldn’t stop wondering how Adonis’ would feel against his palm. Is it thick with a little bit of curve? Does it have length to it for Erik to deep throat? Is it soft to the touch yet textured from his thick veins? He couldn’t shake it. He let go of Vance’s dick and grabbed Jodie’s ankles, picking his hips off the bed and serving her more dick. He didn’t let up on his strokes, knocking the wind out of her chest and making her shout. Vance took over with jerking his dick while his eyes focused on Erik’s powerful hips. 

“KEEP FUCKING ME!” 

“Make her cum, Erik...Make that pussy cum,” Vance said.

“Ahhhhhhhhh,” Erik gritted his teeth, “cum on this dick, bitch...get you some of this dick...she about her business look at her,” Erik and Vance watched Jodie work her hips on his dick, “bounce that shit.”

“Hell yeah, I love watching that big dick pound her pussy,” Vance leans over to tongue Erik’s neck. Erik gripped his chin and flicked tongues with Vance. He broke away from him to moan out. His balls contracted rhythmically with his dick and that was a sign that he was ready to pump his fat load all over their faces. 

“Get down on your knees, both of y’all, hurry up, fuck, I gotta bust!”

Vance and Jodie are on their knees and Erik stands before them, snatching his condom off before fisting his dick. All of that cum squeezed out from his heavy sack all over Vance and Jodie’s face, mouth, and wiggling tongue. 

“Clean this dick up,” Erik spoke with a gruff tone. Both of their tongues battled for a taste. The feeling of two sets of lips on his dick made more cum dribble. Vance took over and sucked him, Erik pulling his dick from his mouth to give Jodie some. He allowed his dick to swing back and forth for them to catch and suck. 

“Y’all gon’ have me fucking again,” Erik shook his head, “Damn...y’all love this dick.”

Watching them attack his dick had Erik satisfied but there was still part of him that needed more. 

Adonis was going to be trouble...if only he would accept his attraction for Erik so he could really show him how badly he needs him. Erik wasn’t going to wait too long either. 

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[stillness-in-green]

If it's any consolation, I'm sure that the Advisors and the rest of the MLA (Re-Destro, Trumpet, Geten) will show back up sooner than the final arc, just because we're going into Year 2 and the students would find great 1 on 1 or team opponents with the Advisors. Re-Destro and Geten are heavy hitters (and Geten could be tied to Dabi, Shoto and all that somehow) and they were locked up with Mr. Compress and Machia, but who do you want to see first from the Advisors?

Thanks, anon; I certainly do hope we'll get to see more of them.  Admittedly, my main concern is that I so liked what was going on with the Paranormal Liberation Front that even if we do see all of the MLA types again, if it's only in the context of speedbump battles for the students, that's still going to be a letdown.  Better than nothing, to be sure, but I really do want them to join back up with the League, even a League that's confused and out of sorts under All For One's hand.  I love RD's big spiritual-awakening-flavored crush on Shigaraki, the cross-organization tensions and relationships, just as much as I love the depth the MLA brings to the world outside of just what's going on with the heroes.

I'm fairly frustrated with how the MLA fared during and after the raid, largely because it's awfully hard not to conclude that, if what we have right now is all the erstwhile-MLA are ever going to come to, Shigaraki would have been significantly better off if he'd just killed them all and shacked up with Ujiko for four months.  And that would be such a waste!  The end of My Villain Academia was such an enormous triumph for Shigaraki! I want his victory to amount to something more than what we've seen, something that shows that both his strength and his mercy will pay off for him in the long-term, will be a concrete benefit to him rather than, with the benefit of hindsight, the reason everything went so wrong.

Particularly with Re-Destro, since Horikoshi saw fit to have Dark Shadow all but one-shot the man, and Edgeshot defeat him off-panel, it's really not going to mean much to me for him to have a big fight with students unconnected to anything else.  The drama's rather gone out of it at this point.  That's particularly the case since, if he's no longer connected to Shigaraki's plot, it's that much easier for him to just be off-paneled and forgotten about.  But, if Rikiya gets looped back in with the League, if his gratitude and admiration of Shigaraki mean he still has a role to play in Shigaraki's arc, that makes it much easier to get invested in any fights that role will lead him to. Ditto the MLA more broadly; it's categorically ridiculous to present that organization with the kinds of numbers, breadth of influence and legitimate grievances they have, only to try to sweep them back under the rug exactly like Shigaraki accuses heroes of doing with everyone they can't save. 

To say the least, I'm pretty invested.  But I appreciate your consolations and am trying to hold out hope that we'll get some good stuff with them yet!

My anxieties aside, and to hit the other portion of your ask--who would I like to see first among the Advisors?--hit the jump:

(All nicknames and shorthand are taken from this post.) 

Well, it'd be nice if they could all get at least as much to do as the Eight Bullets back during the Hassaikai arc, seeing as they got a similar splash page spread introducing all their faces.  There are considerably more than eight of them, of course, but even if they never get more attention than e.g. Galvanize or the hose-faced guy who iced Midnight did, at least then we'd have some idea of their power sets and at least one angle on their personality.

Assuming we aren’t going to get full breakdowns on every single one of them, there are still four things I'd really like to see happen with the MLA/the Advisors: the student fights we're expecting, the jailbreaks we're being told about, the reunion with the League I'm praying for, and for literally anyone in the in-world media to try and get their side of the story.

Student Fights: Seeing the guy who killed Midnight again is as sure a bet as any of these get.  Momo is an important enough character, with enough sustained arc, that she will have to get something else to do before the series is over.  Taking command of a group battle against real opponents--ones with more responsiveness and agency than Gigantomachia--would be in-line with what she's been moving towards so far.  I would, however, love it if that fight would be more challenging than a straightforward battle of tactics.

I headcanon Hose Face and Scarecrow as, respectively, an ex-con and a dude with physical disabilities--both people who have ample reason to want to change the series' status quo irt human rights abuses in prison and overly restrictive quirk use laws.  I'm not expecting the canon to validate me on what amount to wild guesses, of course, but I want those Advisors in particular to have motivations more nuanced than, "They're quirk supremacists; who cares why they're willing to put their lives on the line over this?"

A feel-good revenge match in which a bunch of teenagers lay the smack down on characters whose humanity the audience is asked neither to know nor care about would be lazy, and counterproductive to the series' current thematic concerns. Give Momo her victory, by all means, but don't give it to her easy.  A confrontation like this would be a good way for the less central Class A students to begin wrestling with the question of who, exactly, heroes "save" and what it is that people need to be saved from, exactly the way Deku and Uraraka and Shouto are now wrestling with these questions.

As far as other fights go, I'd also love to see Brand and The Question pop up again. They're probably the two I'm most curious about purely in terms of what their quirks are.  Why does The Question wear a mask, and what's he like that he wound up in Mr. Compress's chain of command?  And with Brand, what kind of quirk does he have that's powerful enough to land him a ranked position in the Guerilla Warfare Regiment but indirect enough that he fights with a sword?

Prison Breaks: I wouldn't expect this to be particularly involved, probably more of an aside than anything, but I want the Bindi Ladies to spring Hole Punch Face, thus getting us an angle on what's going on with that particular trio.  Aviator Teeth can come too because I want at least some hints about what his deal is.

I'd also love to watch Horikoshi even attempt to retroactively justify some of the logistics of the single-day capture and subsequent detention of 17,000 super-powered, combat-trained people.*  I mean, I don't think there are any feasible explanations for that, but I'd be curious to see what he'd come up with, especially if every possible answer just makes Hero Society look worse! We have only ever seen Tartarus as an example of the prison conditions in this country; I'd love to hear more, and an MLA-focused jailbreak would be a great way to show it.

PLF Reunion: Of course, my number one thing to see with a reunion is Re-Destro being just as dismayed as Spinner is over Tomura's possession.  I crave more serious attention being paid to Rikiya's profound awe over Shigaraki's freedom, and would love to see his reaction to Shigaraki apparently losing that freedom.

Aside from the obvious, though, if the PLF does start piecing itself back together, I expect to see Sanctum again, given the attention he's gotten so far, and the fact that he's now the highest-ranked member of the Tactics Regiment.  It'd be great to get some explanation for how he can possibly be "the longest-serving member of the Liberation Army," given that the Army was generations old already when Re-Destro was just a child.  (If we do get that information, I imagine my own explanation will be jossed hugely, so I would also be happy to take time with Sanctum that doesn't explain the discrepancy but also doesn't invalidate my headcanon.)  

In the context of the regiments reforming, I'd also like to see Nimble and Aster, both because this manga needs more women, and because I'd like to see more of how Spinner and Toga interact with the people they were nominally commanding.

Media Attention: Trumpet's my number one hope here--the lack of any look into the state of the government in HeroAca Japan has been a total let-down since his introduction**, but I was particularly annoyed that the last time we saw him he was smiling (albeit in a fairly haggard way), giving me hope that we might next see him doing his part to portray all of this in a light that would sway public opinion.  And then literally one chapter later, we get prison guards talking about how the Hearts & Minds Party, a perfectly legitimized political party with representation on the national level, has been perfunctorily dissolved less than twelve hours from when the raid started.  How is there even an argument that the system heroes were upholding desperately needs to change?

I'm very tired of the media in BNHA only ever showing up to beg for/demand that heroes tell them what’s going on, particularly those damn press conferences. Journalists do investigative work! Newspapers employ reporters to actively seek out news!  Reporters in free countries don't just sit around waiting for the government or heads of major industries to graciously hand them press releases!  For heaven's sake, Trumpet was the head of a major political party.  People should be foaming at the mouth trying to get a statement from him!  

Especially with public trust in heroes breaking down, there should absolutely be intrepid reporters out there looking to get to the bottom of any of the layered conspiracies the public's just been hit with and told to just write-off as a bump in the road on the return to normalcy.

Anyway, Trumpet's the obvious choice, but if I could be sure the manga would validate my headcanons about Nimble and Scarecrow's disabilities, I'd be happy to put them in this position, too.  Trucker Toad would be another good candidate, if there's any basis to my idea that he is or used to be a transport driver who's seen a lot of the country outside the areas e.g. the Top Ten Heroes are patrolling.  He's obviously a good candidate for getting back to that idea of anti-heteromorph bias, too.  But really, I'd take anyone who can give a cogent explanation of the MLA's position on self-determination and the various ways Hero Society has exacerbated quirk-based discrimination.

Anyway, that's about where my thoughts are on where I hope the MLA people are and what we might see of them.  Thanks for the ask!

--------------

*Or as many as 100,000 more than that, depending on how through the statement, "Their bases around the country were also attacked, and their supporters rounded up," was meant to be.  An influx of 116K people, incidentally, would triple Japan's current carceral population.

**Why! Why would you introduce a politician and then never even glance at your setting's political situation??

[roguish-gallery]

Rogues + Internet/Social Media HCs!

Hello!!! this was requested by @geniusbee I struggled a bit with the initial prompt, so I kinda broadened the question, I hope you don’t mind! Once I got the ball rolling with this one, it was super fun to work on! Thank you again for your request!

If anyone wants to, feel free to send me send me more requests! I’d love to do more of these!

Everything is under the Read More bc this got LONG AS FUCK. (Slight TW for sexual references!)

Bane:

Doesn’t use social media. point blank

He’ll surf the web mostly for research or for communication purposes, but that’s mostly it... That being said sometimes he DOES look up stuff for fun because he’s a naturally curious guy who had limited access to education for the first 20-ish years of his life. It sends him down a rabbit hole of researching weird shit and sometimes you’ll catch him up at 4:00 am looking up how bread was made in Ancient Rome or what Cock and Ball Torture is bc he heard Joker say it once and he’s never EVER fucking heard of those words strung together like that before

Also… his fingers are simply too beefy for most keyboards. Dude tryna sit down and send Scandal Savage some fun cookie recipes she could try with her GF like

 Catwoman:

Not a lot to say here but tbh she probably has the most normal internet habits of everyone. Helps to promote cat shelter’s web pages, and will use some light hacking to find the locations of fur factories and animal abusers but that’s mostly it?

If she isn’t already an influencer, she has definitely considered it. Will sometimes post selfies of her wearing stolen jewelry just to flex. Has a legion of simps.

Clayface

Unknowingly gets into kin drama without trying to

He has... so many theather blogs, musical blogs, and obscure film blogs... someone help him... somehow he regularly adds shit to ALL OF THEM. 

He’s that one bitch who hoards all the canon URLs and there’s nothing you can fucking do to stop him.

Harley Quinn:

Her computer is slow and buggy as shit because she’s got so many viruses from trying to download flash games. Edward refuses to fix her computers at this point because he knows it’s a lost cause.

She vlogs sometimes, actually! And she’ll drag her hyenas or any of the rogues/batfam/GCPD she’s hanging out with atm into it.

She likes to go onto anxiety or depression forums and anonymously leave nice, helpful advice :)

Joker:

Mostly on the dark web, doing… things that you do on the dark web...

If he’s ever on the clean web I promise it’s only to start kin drama or to dm fucked up shit to random people he finds.

Has been known to catfish when the mood strikes him

Also? He jumps onto RP forums and either plays the SHITTIEST Batman, or an eerily accurate Batman.

Killer Croc:

He likes looking up funny videos online!!! Also! Art tutorials!!

He likes to post his artwork online under a pseudonym. He doesn’t expect anyone to really pay attention to his work, but it’s always a very pleasant surprise when someone likes or leaves a nice comment on his art.

 He genuinely cherishes all of his followers and the kind interactions he shares with them.

Mad Hatter:

It’s just hat porn and hentai. I’m sorry.

Mr. Freeze:

Normal internet habits tbh. Doesn’t really go on the internet that often because he doesn’t particularly care about keeping up to date with what’s happening.

He used to have a Facebook where he’d post pictures of himself and Nora, but he can’t really do that anymore due to obvious reasons.

Penguin:

Lightly dabbles in dark web shit (for business purposes) but otherwise he’s like an old man on the internet. Checks the stock market and shit. Responds to his emails in a timely manner. He keeps track of everyone’s internet presence but that’s mostly because he enjoys drama and he doesn’t want to be out of the loop in case Eddie starts something again and he needs to know WHY Jervis and Pamela can’t be in the Iceberg at the same time without trying to kill each other.

He REFUSES to make a social media account for the Iceberg Lounge!!!! It is too classy for that!!!

Other than that, though… don’t tell anyone… but he keeps some tabs open on some 🥺🥺🥺 some bird forums and uh 🥺🥺🥺 m🥺🥺🥺 maybe some blogs he has that are all about Jane Austen and Star Trek: The Next Generation 🥺🥺🥺🥺 n-not like he LIKES Star Trek, though!!

Also in Batman #448 it shows that him and Batman canonically play chess with each other online and you know what? That’s cute as hell so I’m gonna say that they still do that.

Poison Ivy:

Surprising no one… she mostly blogs about botany

Will ONLY go onto other parts of the internet to like and share Harley, Selina, or Waylon’s posts and THAT'S IT!!!!

She is not above getting petty in the comment section!! If she finds a video of some clown over-watering their ferns she will absolutely let them know and she will not be polite about it.

Riddler:

Canonically has the best hookup and 100% is the most active online. Like yeah he does a lot of hacking shit but he uses the internet for legit stuff too.

PURPOSEFULLY looks himself up and will argue with anyone who talks smack about him on literally any of the search results. He WILL remember your username and he WILL publicly mock you for it when he freezes your laptop or when he takes over the broadcasting waves in Gotham again.

You KNOW he has a social media account for everything. He WILL talk about how smart and sexy he is and he WILL get around any attempts made to get him blocked, suspended, or banned. 

“You fool… I have 70  A L T E R N A T I V E  A C C O U N T S”

He is the self-proclaimed tech-guru of the Rogues. He WILL harass you if you are using the wrong web browser or if you have TOO MANY FUCKING TABS OPEN FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU.

He calms down somewhat once he becomes a P.I. He’ll take selfies at crime scenes and livestream himself when he’s finding clues or chasing someone down! He’s absolutely obsessed with it and he gets super popular. He knows that he shouldn’t broadcast himself solving crimes... but... the clicks... the views... his stans...

Enjoys gaming and modding whenever he has free time.

Scarecrow:

He hasn’t been in a classroom in years but if you looked at his internet habits you would think he’s still teaching psychology at Gotham U. Responds to emails responsibly (but NOT on weekends or after 10 pm!!)

Probably wouldn’t blog these days, but when he was younger he had a page where he would discuss his psychology work.

He mostly uses the internet for research or to order chemicals but he’ll often get swept up in some inane message chain with Harley and Eddie and he HATES IT.

He has like two dozen tabs open on his computer because he forgets about them and even though some of the tabs have been there for so long that he GENUINELY can’t remember why they were there, he keeps them because it makes Edward break into hives every time he tries to watch what he’s doing online. Giving Edward Nygma anxiety sweats is easy and free and should be done often.

Two-Face:

He uses incognito mode… whenever he needs to google embarrassing questions…

He likes to peruse the dark web but sometimes he enjoys hopping onto r/legaladvice and r/relationships and reads that shit like it's the Sunday paper.

If he’s bored or is having a bad mental day, he likes to look up all the Google doodle games that Google keeps archived. they’re all really cute and are a lot of fun to goof around with whenever he’s wanting to play something light and quick!

[illdesigns]

Kloktober Day 9

crossover or fave au

my favorite au featuring the most coveted ship - magnus/therapy

rated m, warnings for brief talks of canon typical violence, self harm

The office had a smell. That was the worst part. Not the pastel walls or the various ceramic kittens and cherubs or the pale yellow sofa that sagged as Magnus sat in it. It had an absolute perfume smell to it, like he had his face buried in a field of flowers at all times.

Well, it wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was a special kind of torture that most people were not privy to - the sound of mechanical fingers clicking a pen.

“You gotta talk for this to do anything, you know,” Magnus’ eye tracked the man behind the desk as he wheeled back and forth in his office chair. “C’mon, big guy. I know you got a lot going on in that head of yours. What’re you thinking about?”

“Leaving,” Magnus replied briskly. “So I can have a beer and pretend this didn’t happen.”

“You use alcohol like that a lot?” Twinkletits asked curiously, pausing his rolling but not the pen clicking. “To cope with things? You a heavy drinker?”

“No,” he snapped. (Translation: Yes.)

“When you drink, how many drinks do you have? Just one or two, five or more?” he wasn’t subtle in what he was asking. Which is why Magnus hated therapists. He had tried it, once or twice, even before everything in his life really went to shit. When he was just depressed about being in his early twenties because being in your early twenties fucking sucks. And there had been one afterwards but, well, she just didn’t work out either. Dropped him after the whole stabbing story. “Talk with me, Magnus. You’ve got a friend worried about you, you know.”

“I don’t have friends,” it was out of his mouth faster than he intended and he winced. Whatever. If that got back to Toki somehow, Magnus could sue right? Patient confidentiality, HIPAA or whatever? Twinkletits wrote something on the pad in his hand. “What are you writing?”

“Don’t worry about me. My job is to take notes about this stuff for future reference, you just talk. Why don’t you think you have friends? Toki cares about you a lot. He set this up for you, asked you to come down and see me. That’s a friend, right?” Twinkletits offered.

“Yeah,” Magnus spoke with a hint of guilt, looking at his hands. (Translation: Yeah, actually.)

He felt the urge to sneeze, covering his face with the crook of his elbow, rubbing his nose and sniffling. That fucking smell was still covering every surface of his nostrils and it was starting to give him a headache.

“What’s that smell?” he asked.

“Bless you. Lavender. Keeps people calm,” Twinkletits beamed at him. It was funny, because he felt the urge to bash his head into a wall the more he had to inhale it. Not very calming. “And speaking of calm…Toki told me some interesting stuff about you.”

No. No, no, no. Magnus looked up at him again and his eyebrows knit together in suspicion.

“Like?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“So, do you wanna tell me about what happened back in…” he checked his notes. “1999? Ol’ Nate mentioned it too. Feels like it’s important to bring up.”

“Oh, he tell you he did this?” Magnus gestured to his dead eye.

“He told me he did that after you, uh, you stabbed him. But yes, he did,” Twinkletits wrote another little note. Magnus could only imagine what the little dossier Dethklok has on him now will look like. But it’s easier to imagine Offdensen smirking as he reads it, easier to imagine a list of reasons why Toki shouldn’t hang around him laid out in front of him, easier to imagine all of his plans unraveling because he went along with this.

“He, uh…” Magnus paused. Even if he was going to lie about what happened (not that he would be believed by a guy on their payroll anyway) he wasn’t sure...what had happened. It was always a blur when he tried to remember the details - his thought process, why it happened. It was like he blinked and opened his eyes to Nathan beating the shit out of him. “Not much to say if he told you.”

“What about from your point of view?” he prodded, steepling his skinny robot fingers. Why did their therapist have robot arms, anyway? Magnus found that more interesting.

“I dunno, man. It just happened!” he was defensive already, arms crossed over his chest, leg crossed. Shut off. “Things just happen, you know? Like before then I’d have problems with getting mad really easy. People would like, call me stupid and I’d blow up on them or something bad would happen and I’d get depressed and cry it out then take it out on people. And they started to hate me for it, and I started getting worse than that. I see you writing, dude, what are you writing?”

“Just writing what you’re saying. Helps me keep track, okay? Nothing bad,” Twinkletits waved him on. “Go on.”

“I...well, I dunno. It just got worse. I was mad all the time. Thought about hurting myself a lot. Then I started doing that. Thought about hurting other people a lot after that, and then…” he shrugged his shoulders. “Then I did. And got kicked out and live in a little one room apartment while my old friends have this giant sprawling mansion and shit now, who cares.”

“Do you think about that still?” he picked his head up curiously. “Do you think about hurting yourself or others?”

Magnus paused for a moment and thought. Who didn’t think about hurting themselves? You know, just get so frustrated and filled with nervous energy you had to hit yourself in the head a few times? And there was the time before last that he had hung out with Toki, where Toki had sat and talked and talked and talked for too long and Magnus had imagined grabbing his hair and slamming his face into the table to shut him up.

His mind flashed to a basement in an abandoned building. Silver chains and a silver face, both hungrily waiting for their captive.

“No,” he said softly. “I’ve gotten better with that.”

Twinkletits smiled. Checked his clock.

“You know, I gotta wind this down today but...thank you for opening up! Doesn’t it feel nice?” he stood as Magnus did, breaking the distance quickly. He held out a hand to shake and Magnus found himself taking it. His grip was stronger than he expected but metal couldn’t be limp wristed, could it? “I appreciate you opening up at all. We can continue this next time you stop by to hang out, okay? Toki can fill me in so I can make space for you. Oh, before you go-o-o-o-”

He turned to grab something from his desk. A sticker sheet. Magnus frowned as he watched those mechanical fingers peel one off.

“I’m not in Kindergarten. I don’t need a gold star,” Magnus grunted as he felt Twinkletits’ hand on the lapel of his jacket.

“Oh, this isn’t a gold star, buddy! It’s something better,” he beamed up at him. “It’s a banana sticker. For a job well done! You obviously don’t open up easily and I’m sure all that’s a sore subject, so even the little bit we talked about was probably a big step for you!”

Magnus looked down. Well, it sure was a banana sticker. Okay. Seemed a little too gay for his taste but whatever. He was just going to peel it off and toss it the second he could anyway. Twinkletits gave him a wave when he departed and Magnus was stopped outside of the therapist’s office by all but running into Toki dead on.

“Hows it go?” he asked excitedly, then his eyes found it. “Ohhh, you gots a stickers already?! That’s goods, it took me forevers to get ones! Man I gots to do somethings specials as we hangs out today!”

“What?” Magnus raised his eyebrows in confusion as he spoke, looking down at it. It was just a goddamn sticker.

“It’s a big deals! Means you dids a good jobs. I’m prouds of you, pals!” Toki said, face lighting up and eyes crinkling as he looked at Magnus.

Proud. For a sticker? But, Magnus tried to really think of when the last time someone told him they were proud of him. Whatever. He’d take it. He let out a little grunt as Toki wrapped his arms around him in a crushing hug and that gave him more pause. His arms hung by his side limply, his chest and throat suddenly hurt and Magnus wracked his brains for the last time that someone had given him a hug, either. More than ten years ago probably, five figures huddled in front of a camera to commemorate some successful show or something.

So Magnus kept the sticker. So what? It wasn’t anyone’s business if he did or not. Or if he kept the others that he accumulated over the next few months. Or if he found it easier to keep his hair up in a bun at this point. He’d been growing it for years, he could keep it up now and then. Or if he did a few other things, like wear a shirt now and then, change up his style a little bit. And there was a tiny part of him that found it funny as fuck when Dethklok stared at him with a mix of confusion and horror as Toki drug him into the living room of Mordhaus, proudly talking about his brand new friend.

[frostbite-the-bat]

okay back to rambling about spectre except im not adding to that one ramble reblog chain

Okay so obviously they work for Queen since they work and probably live at the mansion

Their position isn't as high as Swatch but they are above most Swatchlings in terms of position

They do a very specific job and I'd say they're decently known for it to those who come visit Color Cafe

This idea comes from my friend, but we know that the Swatchlings do dumb stuff for Queen while remaining all fancy and stuff

Well, even if Queen genuinely cares about Spectre actually enjoying working there, just for the fun of it she goes "ight bestie well so you can keep your special role and all that make a show for me"

and they do

occasionally, Spectre will perform for Queen or any others who might want to watch with either skating or ice skatin

Or better yet...

An entire fucking musical

On skates

with all the other Swatchlings

And they fucking LOVE doing this shit!! I mean they already do soe occasional performance or trick or two at Color Cafe but they can go all out here

Even if they don't do proper ice skating as often (I think they might've even done it competetively for a while) they still love putting on any kind of a show and

They rlly enjoy making others happy so they go

YEAS QUEEN LETS GO BESTIE

Wether or not the other Swatchlings enjoy this goes from Swatchling to Swatchling but I can tell that some of them feel absolute dread when Spectre is like AYO WE DOING ANOTHER PERFORMANCE SOMETIME THE QUEEN WANTS YOU IN AND YES WE'LL HAVE CANONS PSPSPSPSPSP

They're already more energetic, jolly and silly than the usual Swatchling and while they're also pretty fancy and composed most of the time they can let their energy out on this

Also like, they do enjoy like, standing out and having attention on them so this is a bonus

Queen does genuinely enjoy this stuff and I am sure at first she was like lmao do this hell yeah sounds fun I dunno but I think she quickly realized yo y'all got talent

random other rambles i dunno

Spectre definitely overapologizes and if they screw a thing up they feel BAD BAD about it

They actually wear those protective covers on their knees because I think with how the Swatchlings can bounce with their entire body in that one attack they have

I think they're like... Pretty beefy you know? Like they also deinitely have a hard head like you cannot hurt them that way

HOWEVER skidding down like nasty ass concrete and getting a nasty fuckin scratch on your knees isnt fun anyone who went thru that can say sdfgsrgeth since fallin down on your head on something hard and skidding down a hard floor at high speeds are different kinds of damage

So they wear those since they wanna avoid that lol, they're a skilled skater, but you'd never know

They're also pretty scared of the Maice like the other Swatchlings, they're just so fast and tiny y'know

They probably don't like Tasque Manager even if they're covorkers

They like having fun sometimes and like... Bro... Not EVERYTHING HAS TO BE PERFECTLY ORDERED SHUT UP

They definitely draw little smiley faces and doodles on the customer's checks :)

If you're an asshole their niceness could possibly be exploited

They're not stupid and not so completely pacifistic as Ralsei, but they don't wanna hurt people either especially emotionally since it's very complex stuff

They still have beef with people though, like I said with Tasque Manager like they're definitely not perfect

While as a whole they're like

"Oh dear, my apologies for the mistake, why don't we get you patche dup and brew you some tea? On the house."

but they're also LMAO YEAH FUCK THAT BI-

(Sometimes, you must take inspiration from yourself but twist it in a few ways)

they like

genuinely care about other peole and all that but sometimes they do it just so the other person doesnt feel bad and say anything because therwise they will feel very bad to and during those moments they tend to just

ngvhgghGhNbghb nbghbc and just not talk they need a bit

during those moments they like to wait till the place closes and they brew themselves and sometimes watch as well some tea

sometimes theyll both talk about stuff but sometimes they just sit there in silence and enjoy the moment

I'm stating to think f them both more and more as close friends and I am liking this dynamic

I think Swatch is secretly also somewhat energetic, but not as much as Spectre

They are very talkative and love to talk, and tend to overshare as seen in their dialogue where they cut themselves off from telling a secret to a complete stranger

I think that's how Spectre knows all about the basement since they not only work with Swatch, are good friends but Swatch is also like

Dude yo so there's this creepy ass machine in the basement uh yeah don't let anyone in lol but yeah i helped build it

I like to think when they're not working bc I don't think they all work 24/7 there I think Queen would care about shifts somewhat and the well being of her workers in the long run even if she does stupid stuff with them (together) or tells them to do stupid shit sometimes

aaand while they MIGHT live at the mansion I am not sure i haven't decided yet, but I think they would

They still love coming back to the city often as they grew up there and they think it's a charming place

I wonder if they ever skated into the darker calmer streets of the city and met up with spamton post his prime and theyre like

ayo bestie THE FUCK YOU DOING HERE

hshgreth considering i established that Spectre liked Spamton as a frequent customer and recognized him a lot and how caring they are they'd loose their shit knowing he lives in a fucking dumpster DGRHERTH

probably also kinda scared of how he talks now

i also considered that i might make it canon that they were the one to see him tryna sneak to the basement with the machine while he was dressed more like Swatch like

bro bestie the fuck you doin like that outfit is fly but what the fuck im gonna have to yeet you the fuck out </3

mmm i also wonder what their relations t sweet cap'n cakes would be since y'know, they're my fav characters but like considering they DIRECTLY work for queen and that SCC are rebelling against Queen during the duration of the game and such and how far away they are it might not be the best

But maybe they'd know each other a BIT since Spactre lived in the city which is closer to where they are located AND it has some of their shop locations? I mean they wouldn't have always been set up there but who knows

Maybe they djed some music and stuff for their old skating performances

But yeah as much as I want it I am not sure how much these would be able to interact in a more canon sense, even if i go YEA LETS HAVE FUN I think SCC would be a bit :/// since they're working for QUEEN but who knows Spectre is a very sweet person and SCC are pretty chill people like you just "defeat" them by dancing with them aand they think they got you on the good side so

who knows

maybe theres funky trucies

but legit i dont know how this would work but maybe ill figure something out, but for now spectre is mostly in the queen/swatch/spamton character area and stuf

this tok a bit to ramble abt lol bc im also talking in dms but i did wanna write all of this down a bit and brainstorm some stuff maybe,,,, i dunno honestly i dont care if nobody cares but i am just! vibin here

[mannatea]

Fireside Dreams, a Rose of Versailles ‘fic

Words: 5,176 Summary: Oscar was in love. Pairing/Character: Oscar/André Extra Info: This was originally posted on Fanfiction.net back in 2008. It is a full rewrite. Rating: I’d say T bordering on M, but it’s rated M on AO3 just to be safe. :) Genre: Romance and Friendship with a dash of Angst. Kind of character-study-ish, too.

Notes, if  anyone’s interested in them.

All right, so...if you read the original version of this story, you’ll notice the rewrite is...very different.

A few little things:

I use the French manga as my usual reference, so you’ll see a lot of lines quoted that might not match up perfectly with the Japanese-to-English translations that many people are used to. There is one line I did pull from the Japanese though, I believe it was: “One eye isn’t too much to sacrifice for you, Oscar.”

The French version says, instead, “I’ll always be ready to sacrifice an eye for you, Oscar.” I like this too, but I don’t think it really conveys that deep emotional impact that the scene was supposed to have on the reader. Rather, it almost sounds goofy (since he only has one other eye to sacrifice)! 

I guess I could have gone with a loose translation of the French (maybe, “If it’s for you, Oscar, I’ll sacrifice my other eye without complaint.”) but I wanted something the audience would be familiar with.

I do believe the intent of the original line is supposed to convey: 1) I’d do it again, 2) No regrets, and 3) harken back to André’s promise to put his life on the line for Oscar some day...even though the eye thing was a complete accident in the manga.

The lines for the lips I know are my creative translation of the French manga.

I feel like I shouldn’t HAVE to put translations for the French in here, but...I dunno. Why did I put them in the story like some kind of ouiaboo? Because there are some words that just don’t have the same meaning in English, my dudes.

Mon Dieu = My God!

d’accord = okay, yes, [agreement] 

Whenever Oscar tells André to do anything, in the French manga, this is how he responds. I could have just written “okay,” but I can’t help but feel that it’s too informal/not respectful enough, and “yes ma’am” (which is closer to how I read it) just feels too formal.

Je t’aime = I love you. André shouts it over and over in The Incident Scene, which is what I’m referring to by using it.

I actually hate the title (“Fireside Dreams”) but I’ve known it as this for so long I couldn’t change it.

I changed the ending A LOT for reasons I’ll talk about below, but...I kept the cheesy last line. Well, I rewrote it, but I kept the general feeling of corniness that existed in the original!

------------------------------

Goals when writing this were as follows:

Try for a tone that felt as if it could have been part of the manga.

Eliminate André’s POV (more on this later).

Deep-dive into Oscar’s POV.

Treat the story like a fanficcified Character Study piece.

The manga tone thing was frustrating, because the manga lends itself to this really flowery, romantic language that I don’t actually think Oscar would use very often (mostly because the entire series tells us that she is Not That Kind of Person and I don’t appreciate her suddenly Becoming That Person Because Love). A lot of the fandom will disagree with me on this point, and that’s okay. I tried to strike more of a balance where Oscar thinks some of these types of things, but says Logical Oscar Things.

André’s POV originally came in when he did: at Oscar’s door. It also transitioned suddenly into third person omniscient from third person limited, aaaaand when I reread it...I didn’t like it. I felt like it made it harder to follow! The original was supposed to be more of Oscar’s story anyway, so I just committed to it in the rewrite. Overall I do feel this was better for the story, but I lost some lines I really liked from the original that were in André’s POV! Who knows, though, maybe they’ll make an appearance in another story, someday!

Regarding this story as a character study, though... Okay, I’ll try not to let this get long, because I haven’t eaten all day and it’s already getting late here, but I want to address this.

Something that always stuck with me about the manga was how Oscar confessed her love to André quite early on compared to the anime, and how it felt to have their relationship evolve before the end of the series (when she asks André to marry her).

1. I am always ALWAYS ALWAYS a sucker for the woman to ask the man to marry them, ESPECIALLY in period dramas, and

2. See the image below.

Oscar as a character has always interested me greatly, and been highly #relatable, but on my last rewatch I feel like I understand her better than I ever did as an early 20-something.

Despite being in a relationship with André when she asks him to make her his wife, she’s still afraid of actually following through with the act! That’s not something we get to see in the media very often, so I enjoyed getting a peek at it in Rose of Versailles.

Additionally, I felt that Oscar’s whole romance arc was kind of its own character study for her in the canon. She spends most of her life being efficient and logical. Love confuses her. Feelings are difficult to navigate and express. She would not have defended André so passionately I think if she did not love him, but when faced with those feelings she doesn’t even tell him she cares. If the author wanted to make Oscar astute/in tune with her own feelings, she could have written that scene a hundred different ways, but instead we get “I didn’t do it for you, I did it for Nanny! Hahaha!” Part of Oscar’s issue is most assuredly due to the way she was raised, but I feel it didn’t create that character trait so much as it expanded upon it.

Anyway, something difficult to put into words is Oscar’s wondering in the story about being “broken.” I’m writing this from a very specific perspective, but I feel like Oscar’s feeling is relatable to many different types of people. I mean, raise your hand if you’ve ever felt like you were broken, if there was something deeply wrong with you. Now raise it higher if you feel that way and yet...you’re also pretty satisfied with yourself and like who you are, and you don’t really wish to change.

Oscar’s in an interesting position. She’s a woman who identifies as a woman, but she lives as a man. She wears men’s clothes, she does men’s work, she has men’s hobbies, and she’s expected to publicly Act Like a Man. She’s good at these things. She enjoys these things. She delights in her own skill, and has a lot of fun springing the fact that she’s a woman on poor unsuspecting people (like Rosalie, lol) while also shooting down things typically associated with being a woman (like when she glared at André for suggesting she had an understanding of something because of women’s intuition). It’s easy to understand Oscar’s POV: she wants to be free to be herself, and that means picking and choosing from gender stereotypes as she sees fit, identifying herself as what she is and what she is not.

At the end of the day, Oscar is...Oscar...which is how I imagine André feels about it.

I’m sure if you read the story, and you went out of your way to read this far, you probably have a personally complex view of Oscar yourself, so please don’t feel as if my view of her has to match yours. Everyone will read her a little differently!

I wanted to explore the confusion that Oscar feels. The confusion that makes her put on a dress even though she isn’t comfortable in one, the confusion of falling for someone you already knew from the beginning was unattainable (though I didn’t go into detail on this particular point), the difficulty in expressing feelings when you’ve been raised to not do that, and the understanding that different does not mean broken.

Oscar is not broken. You are not broken. I am not broken.

------------------------------

One last note about this story, and it’s related to The Incident Scene. I’m choosing to interpret it in my own way, so if it’s different than yours, I hope my interpretation wasn’t too jarring!

I look at the scene, particularly in the manga, to be kind of a Domino Effect of less-than-stellar choices. Oscar tries to communicate her feelings but does a very poor job of it, and in the process hurts the person she’s trying to communicate with. As a result, he makes a bad choice and hurts her in turn. I don’t feel that any of the hurt was intentional (these two people love each other, after all), but circumstances have put them into positions where some kind of hurt was inevitable.

André undoubtedly would have been rejected by Oscar no matter when he confessed (just because she wouldn’t be mentally capable of processing it quickly enough to spare him), but he chose to confess to an Oscar 1) as part of an emotional outburst/explosion, and 2) physically.

Oscar is not used to Intimate physical contact, and understandably freaks out. She’s also not used to André as a Passionate Person. He’s always been so mellow! It’s frightening to her on multiple levels.

NOTHING EXCUSES ANDRE, BY THE WAY! Taking his frustration and sorrow and fear and emotion out on Oscar was terrible.

But context is important, I think, to understand how manga!Oscar forgives him before he even leaves her rooms. André’s outburst was never about him being horny, or him wanting to be intimate with Oscar. If you look closely I think it’s clear that it’s a chain of André trying to communicate to her in turn, and failing repeatedly until he rips her shirt (that he’s already holding onto)—something I don’t believe he meant to do, or he wouldn’t feel such immediate shame for it.

It was an outburst of fear that she was abandoning him. It was an explosion of all the love he legally wasn’t allowed to feel for years of his life. It was frustration and sorrow over seeing the person he loves best denying Who She Is in the face of an unrequited crush.

I never felt that André was insisting she was a woman instead of the man she wanted to be so much as he was insisting that Oscar Is Oscar, and she cannot change that, and shouldn’t change it out of fear or embarrassment AS WELL AS SAYING, “You are who you are and I LOVE YOU FOR THAT! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! PLEASE HEAR ME AND DON’T HURT YOURSELF BY TRYING TO BE SOMEONE YOU’RE NOT!”

Unfortunately André fails to speak plainly enough and the whole thing Backfires. (Now you can consider how he was raised to speak to his betters.)

I know all of the above wasn’t necessary to read the story (or even afterward), but I thought it would assist if anyone read my ‘fic and came away from it wondering if they’d read/watched a completely different version of The Incident. 

If you made it this far, thanks for reading! I sure hope you leave a comment over on AO3, since you can do so anonymously, and Feedback Is Life!! ♥

[ambidextrousarcher]

Sarcastic StarBharat Reviews-Episode 9: Enter the big bad

The episode begins with an elephant. Okay, I can see that this episode is going to have a lot of canon fails already. The camera focuses on long-haired Dhritrashtra. I don’t like this actor. The soldier controlling the elephant either loses control of it or lets it loose, it looks the same to me. Camera focuses on Ambika and Ambalika. There’s this elaborate match between Dhritrashtra and the elephants, in which he catapults up one elephant all Amarendra Baahubali style, though I vastly preferred Baahubali doing it. The elephant trumpets. Everyone cheers. Ambika and Ambalika smile. He leaps to the ground and takes on another elephant, which butts him with its trunk to the ground. Everyone is worried all of a sudden. Dhritrashtra dodges it, then drags it by its leg chains. There’s two more that surround him. He executes a Tarzan leap and falls. Soldiers come to his aid. He raises his hand, standing. There is focus on his bleeding wounds. Grunting, he vaults between their legs, dragging all four of the elephants by their chains. He succeeds in tying them up, but one elephant breaks free of the chain while he’s exulting. He narrows his eyes, trying to locate the elephant, but someone else drags the elephant by a chain off him. Dhritrashtra angrily exclaims “Who dares to try and help me without permission?” I really dislike this characterization of Dhritrashtra. This angry young man vibe, instead of the two-faced manipulative man he is in canon. Guess who it is? “It’s me, elder brother,” Uh-oh. “Pandu.” Just entered and this guy is already sickly sweet. He’s smiling. “I do not need your help! I am not afraid of anything!” Pandu’s smile has dropped off his face. “Why do always remind me of my blindness?” Scene change. Krishna Gyaan. This one’s about disability. Skip. Skip. Scene focuses on Dhritrashtra getting…a head massage? There’s a slight sound of footsteps and the camera focuses on Pandu entering. Dhritrashtra blinks. (In case anyone’s wondering why this series of posts took an unexplained hiatus, the explanation is the characterization of Dhritrashtra.) Dhritrashtra blinks. “Pandu, so you are here to help your elder brother? So that not even for one second is my blindness forgotten?” Bro, you’re the one mentioning your blindness again and again. It’s no one else. It’s you who’s reminding everyone of it over and over. You know what? I take back what I said about Pandu being sickly sweet. He’s just trying his best to be a brother. I can understand trying to protect an undeserving elder brother, for in my mind, that’s what Arjun did all his life, after the Dyut Sabha, at least. “A King is served, not helped, brother,” “I am not a King yet.” “But you have the right to the throne” Such innocence is not a good idea, Pandu, especially with an uber-suspicious brother like yours. “The King is for the throne, not the throne for the King” Ah, it’s Vidur, to the tune of dhananana. “Pranipaat, Jyeshth Bhraata,” “Who sits on the throne is decided by his worth.” Angry dude has had enough. He throws up a hand and jolts from his massage. Pandu and Vidur look at each other. “I am the eldest of the clan!” Cue self-promotion bragging session. “Will YOU decide my worth?” “Not I, elder brother. That right is the Mahamantri’s. At the correct time, he will decide. I was only telling brother Pandu that words before their time are useless.” Ah, so someone has his head screwed straight, thankfully. Vidur leaves after his salutations. Scene cuts to Dhritrashtra practicing knives, narrowly missing Pandu. “That’s why he’s jealous of us! Because we’re the children of King Vichitraveerya’s legitimate Queens, and he’s just a dasi-putr!” Ugh. Dude. All three of you are Ved Vyas’s kids, remember? Pandu reminds Dhritrashtra of that, further pointing out that both Bhishm and Satyavati accept Vidur as family, that Bhishm likes his habit of being truthful without artifice. “That’s not a virtue, it’s a vice!” Ack. Seriously, Mr. Angry Young man, do you even like anything that’s good…? “When you speak with the intent to insult, it is not the truth, but insult!” Hey. He just said you need to prove your worth, in what world is that an insult? “But only dishonest people get insulted by truth!” Good, Pandu. Then he goes into pandering mode. “But you’re honest, why would you be insulted? You should always be happy, because a sad heart cannot understand justice, which is the duty of a King.” “Happy? I’ll be happy after I am King, Pandu.” He goes off into a sob story, one I am supremely not interested in. He’s like Shantanu, it seems. Dude can’t ever be happy. He can hear cheering in his head. Pandu nods. He then starts applying haldi on his brother. Then comes the eternal Indian solution to loneliness, this time from Pandu’s mouth. “You need a wife.” “I do not have the time to think of marriage.” “You don’t need to, Tathshree and the Rajmata alone need to do that. You will be wed to the Princess of Gandhar.” He goes on talk about Gandhari, and how Dhritrashtra is lucky. “Gandhari is lucky to have me.” Ack. Entitled much, this guy? Cut to Gandhari, smiling really cutely. Cut again to her parents. The Queen is asking the King if he’s worried about the decision he took. She says that she was really angry at first, but now she thinks he took the right decision. He says he’s feeling guilty. “A king has decided, but the father still cannot accept it.” “A father is bound by love, Maharaj. Love makes us weak” I disagree. I think love gives us strength, but Krishna doesn’t think so, and that’s it. “See, Sudharma, look at our daughter playing in the garden” Cut to Gandhari and Sukhdha making rangolis in the garden. Gandhari is still happy. “She doesn’t even know that her dreams are going to shatter…” Excuse me? She was all excited about Dhritrashtra! She was! What is the shattering going on here? “She is a Princess, Maharaj. She has a duty to her people, she will sacrifice with a smile for them.” Cut to Gandhari smiling. Ah, these guys seriously love their melodrama. “With what face will I tell my daughter that for the happiness of the people I have condemned her to a lifetime of sadness?” “Not now, Maharaj. She still has dreams in her eyes…” aargh. This is too much. SHE HAD BEEN EXCITED ABOUT DHRITRASHTRA? THESE GUYS CAN’T KEEP THEIR OWN BLOODY STORY STRAIGHT, guess how they’re gonna mutilate canon? “What will happen when Shakuni returns, Maharani? He loves his sister a lot. He will not agree to her wedding a blind man.” Notwithstanding the fact that this entire episode is non-canon, Shakuni was actually supposed to be HAPPY about it in canon. Camera cuts to Shakuni scaling a mountain. “Climb fast, my Prince, the rope is wearing out!” Someone is groaning behind Shakuni. “This rope will break! It cannot bear the weight of two men!” Cue the most irritating laugh I’ve ever heard. Clearly, it’s Shakuni, the big bad of the story. Here, anyway. In canon, he mellows down with age, kind of, and Karna picks up the slack of the baddie sidekick. “Then I will leave the rope, you will live.” “No, my Prince, your life is more precious than mine.” “Then leave the rope.” “No, no, no” “Leave it.” Shakuni kicks the man down. Episode ends. Precap: “I am not afraid of Bhishm” says Shakuni. “Where strength is of no use, there comes the use of trickery, Pitashree, I will war against Hastinapur in such a clever way that the entire Kingdom will break into pieces. I will not obey the Dharma that causes pain to my sister. For Gandhari, if I have to do the worst of Adharma, then I am ready to do it.”

Tagging @ratnas-musings, @butchcaroldanvers, @mayavanavihariniharini, @chaanv, @iamnotthat, @shaonharryandpannisim, @shellweed, @allegoriesinmediasres, @ambitiousandcunning, @avani008.

[shirtlesssammy]

9x21: King of the Damned

Then:

Things are going really well for the angels. 

Now:

1723

Abaddon arrives at an inn in Leith, Scotland and introduces herself to a confused young man as a “friend of the family”. She notes that he’s traveling in the morning to the colonies. The innkeeper interrupts their little conversation, and Abaddon makes quick use of the coathanger on the wall when she slams the dude into it, killing him. She then starts chanting her spell. The sigil on the door she painted lights the room yellow. 

At a bar, angels are drinking and chilling. Nerd angel decides to interrupt a group by telling them about how cool he is for getting picked by “Met Man” to head back to Heaven. He’s overheard by a couple at the bar. 

As he’s leaving later, they kidnap him and chain him up.They’re on the other side of the angel war and want to know more about his allegiance to Metratron. There are footsteps growing louder from the hallway, the music grows tense, and the derpy angel nervously asks, “Is that him?” It is. 

It is ...Cas. 

Meanwhile, the brothers arrive to see “the commander”.

They’re brought into the main operation room. It’s buzzing with angels all looking for Metatron. Cas greets them both with a hug when they enter his office. The brothers are skeptical of Cas’s new leadership role, but Cas believes someone has to stop Metatron. Cas needs the brothers to interrogate the kidnapped angel. MOC!Dean is game.

Crowley, meanwhile, is meeting with his team of trusted demons. 

He’s making it clear that the king is back, and Abaddon must be stopped. He asks for their “Yo” of allegiance, but gets only silence in response. Until Abaddon blurts it out from the door. She reviews the fact that Crowley helped the Winchesters get ahold of the First Blade and Dean’s wearing the Mark of Cain. She points out that once she’s gone, Crowley’s next on their list. She wants to team up but Crowley declines. She has no hold over him. 

Enter Gavin Macleod: the Scot from the opening --and Crowley’s son. Crowley swears he doesn’t care about the boy. Abaddon is willing to bet that his little foray into humanness left him with more compassion than he thinks. She starts to torture the poor dude. 

Crowley holds out for a couple seconds but way too quickly demands that Abaddon stop.

Sam and Dean are busy playing Good Cop/Bad Cop with the rogue angel. Dean wants to stab the dude, but Sam catches on REAL quick that the angel likes to boast, so he goes for a little reverse psychology. 

They both egg the guy on enough to have him reveal that there’s a private portal to Heaven now. 

Gavin, now recovered from the torture, adamantly denies that Crowley is his father. His father was Fergus Macleod, a simple tailor. Abaddon and Crowley reveal to poor Gavin that he’s in the future. He mistakes them for angels. 

Sam and Dean continue their schtick. And they get a lot of intel from the guy. They learn that the portal moves around and there’s an elite, secret Heaven squad (that this guy ultimately wasn’t chosen for). Sam and Dean leave the room convinced they didn’t learn a thing. 

Gavin learns that his dad sold his soul for “an extra three inches of willy?!” He does not like this turn of events. Crowley assures him that his dear old dad is the King of Hell so everything is good! 

Another angel opens the interrogation room to find the nerd angel stabbed through the heart, dead. Sam and Dean have to explain themselves to the Commander. 

Dean wonders if Cas’s operation has been compromised. Cas had real faith in the angels under his charge (and there goes Cas again with his faith in others…). Dean heads out to find out who killed the angel. Cas holds Sam back to ask about Gadreel. “It's not really something I like to…” Sam starts, before Cas cuts him off. (Sam, you never want to talk about your trauma, bby) Sam then tells him that it was like they were sharing housing, but he never felt threatened. He was misunderstood, but not a danger (well, except for Kevin.) 

Crowley and Gavin confront their past, each blaming their respective parents for their terrible lives. Gavin can’t even read! Crowley shoves an impatient hand against Gavin’s forehead and hands him a newspaper. Tada! He can read now! (This remains one of the funniest and weirdest canon demonic powers. Can you imagine some demon elementary school teacher just trying to live a neutral life and impatiently zapping all their students with reading power?) Gavin immediately warms up to Crowley, and further cheers to learn that he can now adopt the title “Prince.” Gavin would like to be sent back through time and continue nipping off to the new world, though. GAVIN you fool you’re already THERE and you can have hot showers here. HOT SHOWERS.

Gadreel arrives at a clandestine meeting with Cas. Gadreel reveals that he’s still sour about what happened in the Garden. “You feel misunderstood,” Cas notes. He thinks that Gadreel wants to redeem himself and that’s why he’s helping Metatron. Yep, Cas isn’t speaking about himself AT ALL here. Cas tells Gadreel that Metatron can’t be trusted. Just then, angels race in to attack their meeting. RUDE. Gadreel and Cas dispatch them handily. 

Dean has First Blade flashbacks while he researches, zoning out so much that he can’t even hear his own phone ringing next to him. Sam snaps him back to Earth. The phone call is from Crowley and he’s plotting to kill Abaddon with their assistance. When they hang up, Crowley looks up to a smiling Abaddon. It’s a trap!

Dean and Sam unbury a corpse to unearth the First Blade that’s hidden inside of it (yeah that was a lot already) when they’re confronted by a hellhound.

Cornered by the hound, Dean calls Crowley, then puts him on speaker. Crowley tells “Juliet” the hellhound to stand down. At least there are SOME loyal subjects left in Hell! The Winchesters chop the blade out of the body and head out.  

Gavin throws a temper tantrum about wanting to travel back in time and slams the door to his room in their suite. Crowley gets a call from Dean and tells him where to meet him to get the drop on Abaddon. 

Crowley drops the code word he learned earlier in the season: “Poughkeepsie.” He warns them that it’s a long drive from Poughkeepsie. Dean hangs up and looks troubled, but doesn’t bother to share his concerns with Sam. 

Abaddon smirks at Crowley as her plans settle into place. She’s about to be overrun with the Winchesters and Crowley - and she doesn’t trust a single one of them. She shoots Crowley in the shoulder with a devil’s trap bullet to nullify his AMAZING READING POWERS. 

Gadreel begs Cas to trust him. He didn’t send the angel assassins! Cas tries to use the attack to bolster his argument that Metatron can’t be trusted.

For Concerned Blue Eyes Science:

Cas asks for intel - not action. If Gadreel will turn spy for Castiel, then Cas has an advantage for his own battles. Gadreel can try to keep his hands clean. 

Dean and Sam arrive at the hotel. Dean spins a quick lie about how Crowley spotted demons in the basement. While Sam goes to check that out, Dean heads up to Crowley. “Love the crazy bloodlust in your eyes,” Crowley croons in greeting. 

Demons attack Dean immediately and Abaddon power-pushes him against a large painting and pins him like a bow-legged bug. 

Sam finds absolutely nothing in the basement while Dean confronts literal and probably also metaphorical demons upstairs. Dean draws from the power of the blade, the Mark glowing through his jacket, and pulls away from the wall under his own magical steam. He psychically snaps the blade to himself and strides across the room to skewer a disbelieving Abaddon. I ALWAYS forget that Abaddon dies in this episode. It’s just like…Crowley family drama, Winchester family drama, Angel drama, lol she’s DEAD.

After she dies, he continues to hack away at her body. Sam tells him, breathlessly, that he can stop now. Dean’s doing GREAT, guys! 

Afterward, Crowley reveals that he warned Dean about the trap and Sam shoots a surprised look at his brother. Err…awkward. The Winchesters tell Crowley that the laws of time travel require Gavin to go back to his own time, even if he dies. Honestly, sometimes I just sit back and think about how much I love this sprawling show that’s like...ghosts? Yes. Angels and demons? Okay. Time travel? Why the fuck not?

Sam plans to bring Gavin back to the bunker and magic him home. Crowley heads in to say goodbye to his son, but zaps away with him instead. In a park green, Crowley tells Gavin about the fate of his ship to America, and that he should go live his life in the current century.

Gavin bids Crowley a fond farewell. Crowley, for his part, struggles against his FEELINGS and zaps out. 

In the car, Dean tells Sam why he directed him to the basement. Dean knew the blade would help him take down Abaddon and anyone else who got in his way. He wanted Sam out of the way for that. Sam speculates that the Blade is changing Dean. He begs Dean to lock the Blade away until they need it. “No,” Dean says quietly, and we cut to black.

I Had a HellQuote Named Juliet:

No, we get it. You're a rock star

Holy mother of God! We're amongst the stars! Are we in heaven, then? You must be angels!

No one bends the rules like you two bend the rules

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