#even if this post is relatively short enough to not need one

[toytulini]

if you draw enough monster ocs, when you go back to drawing a human character, it feels like "sameface syndrome" everytime, by virtue of their face being. human.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

speaking of your coming of age movie that never happens & your narrative non-narratives, shoutout to the arcs that’d be supposedly “worse” lmfao like posts about people-pleasers being like “i’m in my villain era” when it’s just consciously prioritizing themselves at all / noting when boundaries for their own wellbeing are being trampled, and the like. wherein i’m like, well i like talking to people i suppose, i can do the hours of monologue at a wall for one mode, got chatterbox mode, funny guy theatrical mode, etc, but in actuality also, i do not like talking to people lmao. the “yeah, that’s me” movie ending with another voiceover while upbeat music plays & you’re cheerfully walking along in 0.75x speed through some picturesque arena filled with socializing people like =) putting on headphones, turning up the volume, ignoring everyone, dodging people according to the berth one wants to maintain,

[coconutdays]

study week!

s. your boyfriend deserves some special treatment after working so hard and you think you know the best way to treat him, you think

w.c. 4.9k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: this was halfway written in my drafts and I know I haven't posted him in a while, so I thought id treat my girlies for what they fell for me for in the first place and finish it

it's midterms week and as difficult as it's been for your dear boyfriend suguru, you can't stop yourself from being a bit of an obstacle for him yourself.

he's waiting for you outside of your french studies lecture in the morning when you can see his slightly tired eyes rake across the cleavage bared by your low-cut blouse. then to the short mini-skirt and pantyhose lining your legs. and your lips, you're wearing his favorite lipgloss, the one that always has him pushing you onto your knees and sucking him dry.

"hey baby." he smiles a little, taking the almost too large water bottle from your hands and reaching down to hold one of your hands while you walked, "you look beautiful."

"hi," you snuggle into his arm, hoping he didn't see the slight quirk of your lips at his obvious stare just a few seconds ago, "did you study as much as you wanted this morning?"

suguru nods, thumb caressing your hand as he sighs, "yes, although I do wish I could've finished earlier and had more time to get ahead on that project."

that project. the one that had been taking up most of the time for the past two weeks, more so this one right before his exam and presentation came up for his Japanese architecture class.

it had been only last semester the two of you started dating after the close to masterful planning of satoru gojo that led to your hookup with the charming brunette on halloween night. you had no other classes together when the spring semester came around and you both obviously missed it at times like these, when the added ninety minutes of just getting to even be together in lecture and spare time of studying the class material together could've more easily satiated the want of each other's presence

this semester he had Japanese architecture and although the class was fairly easy, he had to work on a hefty group presentation that took up over thirty percent of his grade, and he being the ever meticulous student, was doing everything in his power to make sure he would get his A+, which meant being taken prisoner by his assigned group in the library to piece together the presentation most days. and when he wasn't, he was studying for his other classes and making the most of any interaction he could with you, be it by texting, FaceTime, or getting a quick dessert at the cafe near the school campus with you.

but not sex.

"'m sorry. that sucks," you pout for him, peering up at him through your eyelashes purposefully, "wish I could make it a solo project, so you wouldn't have to rely on other people for your grade."

suguru spares you a small glance before tiredly looking you and shining his warm smile down at you, "well it's already too late for the professor to change his mind, so I'll bear it through."

suguru tears his gaze away from you so he can guide the both of you across the street to the previously mentioned cafe. when you make it across the street and continue walking to the ever growing close cafe, your boyfriend strikes another topic.

"how was class though? did you get the material?"

you nod your head eagerly and upon realizing he can't see you do it because of his guiding, you voice, "yea! it was relatively easy, shouldn't take me more than an hour or two to brush up on what I need for the test."

"good." he hums, opening the door for you to the cafe, never letting go of your hand, "and your other classes?"

and there came the reason as to why you felt so free to mess around with him in the first place. you barely even had midterms, luckily enough this time around. you only had your French midterm and the studying barely even counted as something to be stressed about when it was just like overlooking the normal homework being assigned in the class. and your other classes...well it was pure luck that your professors didn't care to give one and if they did, they instead spread them around to conveniently happen before and after midterms like any other normal test. god knows you're happy they didn't pile up into one week like they did for your boyfriend, his poor poor soul. a poor soul so restricted by his other responsibilities during this short time span that you just wanted to tease him for all he's got.

"I already started my study review for my international business relations class yesterday, so I'll be fine when the test comes around next month." you beam proudly, grateful that the university gods had been kind to you and to yourself for staying on track to your planner.

"good girl" suguru's eyes crease when he gets in line to order with you and brings your hand to his mouth to kiss it. the action is mindless, just like his response, it was natural for him to praise you. and considering his avoidance of your sex life ever since those cruel cruel cruel classmates of his started dragging him into the study rooms of the library as of last week, it was purely innocent, with no intention of riling you up.

but it did.

and you can't help but think of the last time you and suguru had sex, the exact morning of the day he had received the news from his professor that he would have to group up with other people for a good grade.

he had eaten you out for close to an hour because he felt like it. it was slow and sensual the entire time, he never listened to your pleas to go faster, telling you to take it like he knows his good girl would, and although it wasn't the cruel speed you begged for most of the time, it still brought you over the edge in a many pleasing and toe curling way.

the thought had you blushing at the fact the person you held those memories with was right next you, being domestic, and leading you to an empty booth while he carried your desserts in a bag.

craving the touch of your boyfriend, you refuse to sit across from him, and squeeze yourself next to him in the booth, the action makes him caress your thigh warmly before he sets out napkins and puts each of your preferred sweets on their respective places.

you're halfway through your dessert when you push yourself onto suguru and pout, "I miss you sugu."

he places a firm yet soft hand on top of your head to caress it, "I miss you too. I'll be all yours tomorrow."

"what?" he wasn't supposed to be free until three days time

"my group decided they wanted to turn in the project today to get it over with, which I'm up for by all means. and my calculus professor felt merciful last night. he gave passes for the midterms to the students with no late assignments and As."

you try your best to hide the devious excitement in your eyes and instead smile endearingly, "that's so good! we can go eat at that viet restaurant I dmed you."

suguru takes your non pastry sticky hand and brings it onto his lap as he gazes into your eyes, "I'd rather cook for you tomorrow."

your curiosity overtakes your predatory instinct and you bat your lashes at him when you ask, "what are you thinking of making?"

"risotto,"he hums, before he leans forward a bit and kisses the corner of your mouth. when he pulls back he smirks a little at the flustered look on your face.

"you had some strawberry filling." he points out before placing another kiss at the top of your head, rubbing a tentative hand at the back of your head in doing so, "let's finish the pastries so I can buy you a matcha latte before my class."

and just like that, he had made your resolve weaken, yet again, like always, your intent on seducing him forgotten for the meantime due to his proficiency at making your mind a puddle.

you find yourself in the library, hours later in the afternoon, studying with your friend at the same time suguru is meeting with his group.

and...soooooo conveniently sitting at a desk right in front of the glass door of one of the library's large group session cubicles, that just so happens to be hosting your boyfriend and his classmates.

your luck worked out perfectly and you thanked whatever mightier being there was when you saw suguru seated at the far end of the table with no one in front of him, allowing him the perfect view of you from across those few feet and glass door.

you see his eyes light up as he tries to listen to whatever one of his groupmates is saying while sharing a loving look with you.

perfect.

suguru

are you going to study pretty?

by the time you see the message from him, he has his arms folded over each other as he speaks to the other people in the room. god you wish you could hear him speaking right now. he was 100% giving some sort of smart nerd dialect input and you did everything in your power not to remember the time he tutored you in a class he had already taken last semester, using that same voice.

that time,

you had asked for a prize if you got all his questions correct

and he had been more than happy to give when you did

the specifics of which you didn't let yourself fret on more when you typed away to answer him

y/n

mhm I need to practice a speech for french.

and you left your phone on the desk with the screen facing down as you continued to your studies, conniving your next plan of action as you typed away at your computer.

about thirty minutes had passed when suguru was finally allowed a moment of peace, a moment of tranquility from having to explain a million times why comic sans was not the most ideal font to use.

and he was going to reach for his phone, to see what you had answered–he felt the buzz in his pocket–but couldn't look due to his previous debate with his classmates, when he spotted a quite inviting sight.

where you had been sitting basically face to face with suguru, with your friend next you, now you had your back to him as you practiced your speech in front of your friend.

it wasn't really useful, she didn't understand, it was more so to have someone to make eye contact with.

well more so,

an excuse to stand up and bend over a little every once a while so your skirt rode up just the right amount.

you bent over when you hand your phone to your friend to time you, you bent over to get a quick look at your computer, your speech written on it. you bent over to type something quick, a meaningless note, but a meaningful excuse for you.

you're not flashing him outright, of course, there was still a possibility of any one of his group mates accidentally getting a glance of whatever you rescinded to your boyfriend in these minutes; but you are teasing him. he loves these skirts on you. he's especially a bigger fan of the pantyhose, considering this was the only surviving pair you could find. so you know that he's letting his memory and imagination undress the sight before him as well as entice him.

you're glad you didn't unlock your phone when you gave it to your friend to time you, choosing to slide up for the clock on the lock screen, when after an hour of perfecting the speech you didn't need until two weeks time, she says, "geto texted you by the way, a couple minutes ago."

you take your phone from her as you go to sit down, facing suguru again for the first time in an hour, and you don't know if he's resorted to playing your mind games too, but the sight is knee buckling.

he's got his hair in that half up, half down combo that never fails to make you ravenous. and he's biting his cheek as he listens yet again to whoever and looks down at his computer screen every once in a while.

why did he always look so unaffected by everything, god.

you force yourself to look at the messages he sent you earlier

suguru

try your speech on me when you get the chance, okay?

how long are you going to be here? do you want me to take you home after we finish the project?

y/n

I'll make it my first priority! and I'm about to leave :/ I still have to do a quiz at home with my camera on in about two hours, wanna get it done before the hour mark.

you get up seconds after sending the text to suguru to put your belongings away. the task was easy considering you didn’t take much out of your bag. and when you started to close it, you felt a firm and soft hand tugging you towards them. 

suguru was in front of you now, sitting at the edge of your desk, tugging you close to him so you stood between his legs, which were unavoidably manspreading for you.

“five at my place tomorrow?” he’s softly quirking an eyebrow at you in question, holding both of your hands close to him

“I’ll be there,” you nod

he smiles at you in response, then juts his chin a little in the direction of your friend behind you–mindlessly scrolling through her phone as she waits for your conversation with your boyfriend to end–and asks, “are you getting a ride? I don’t like the idea of you walking by yourself, especially when it’s so close to sundown.”

you have to resist the way his protectiveness of you makes your skin crawl and want to jump onto him and force yourself to nod, “yea. she’s dropping me off after this. i need to give her one of the books we read for lit last semester anyways, she needs it for a class.”

“alright then.” suguru pulls both of your hands to his lips and gives a kiss to each one before getting up. he stands tall before you like he always does. “text me when you get home.”

“I will,” you say as he raises his hands to hold both sides of your face to pull you into a kiss. he keeps it calm and fluttering, so the most you can manage to retrieve out of him is a slight sharp inhale when your tongue softly grazes his lower lip. 

he still has his hands on your face when he places a small kiss at the top of your forehead and mutters, “i love you.”

“I love you too.” you say back, basking in his touch, knowing it’ll be close to a full day before you can see him like this again.

y/n 

Im homeeeeeeee!

finished the quiz too, wasn’t as hard as i thought it would be

suguru

nice job baby

have you eaten yet?

y/n 

im making a fruit salad :p have a sweet tooth right now

are you done with the project???

suguru

thankfully, yes. It was getting very difficult to see everyone use comic sans by default today. all i have to do is study for the test now, i can do that on my own without worrying about them. 

ill make a peach cobbler for you tomorrow, for your sweet tooth

y/n

aw for lil ol me??

suguru

yes for lil ol you miss coy

ill text you in a bit, im going home

your conversation continued when suguru got home, minimally if any, knowing youd talk on the phone before one of you headed to bed later that night. he did have to study after and so did you. which was why you saved your seductive attempts for until then.

“I liked your outfit today baby. It was cute,” you could hear your boyfriend repeatedly tossing a small stress ball up into his ceiling faintly. he was in bed already just as you were.

the comment made your ears perk up, “you did?”

“yeah, i didn’t know there was still a pair of pantyhose left.” 

“I didn’t either,” you sheepishly admitted, “i found it in the back of my drawer on saturday and thought id wear it.”

“wear them tomorrow, “ suguru added casually

“okay, ill–”

“don’t wear panties either.” 

your eyes widened a little, “but your bike–”

“what about my bike?”

he was picking you up tomorrow on his bike, like he always did. and you had to sit on his bike, on that leather seat with the incoming wind, your skirt, the pantyhose, no underwear…

“I thought we were having dinner.”

“we are, im making the risotto and peach cobbler for us,” he still sounds like he’s discussing any casual dinner arrangement, “don’t wear panties under the pantyhose.”

“why are you making those demands anyway,” you try to poke at him, as if you didn’t want to do that for him, to see if you could rile him up like you still wanted to these last two weeks, “you haven’t been horny for two weeks.”

“did i tell you i wasn’t?”

the authoritative question had you rubbing your thighs against each other, “no…but you weren’t acting that way either.”

“like you?” 

even on the phone it was hard to escape him, and he made it oh so delicious, even if it did always intimidate you.

“Is it so wrong to want you,” the pout in your voice clear

“no,” suguru comforts, “not at all.”

then, just as he knows he has you on an intense precipice in the conversation, he begins to end the call.

“sleep well pretty,” you can hear the love for you he has through it, as if he wasn’t just backing you into a corner seconds ago, “we’ve had a long day, and i need to get up a bit earlier than usual to get some groceries before i head to the gym.”

“sleep well too,” you huff and you can hear suguru’s laugh

“I love you beautiful."

“I love you too.”

suguru acts like a saint when he picks you up, like he's completely unaware to the fact that you're wearing pantyhose with no panties under your skirt, even though he asked for it.

"hey beautiful," he smiles when he leans down to peck your lips, "you ready to go?"

"yeah," you breathe, genuinely excited to spend time with your boyfriend for the first time in two weeks, uninterrupted

you arrived to your boyfriend's apartment with the most drenched pantyhose known to man. and you were too scared to see if any of your slick left a trail on his motorcycle. and although there was a certain buildup...down there...this had to be considered some sort of psychological torture.

because suguru had not made a sexual move on you the entire dinner, even through dessert.

nothing.

so here you were, stuck making casual conversation with your boyfriend, pussy basically exposed, and paranoid about his next move.

"satoru should not be eating that many macaroons a day. I know he loves them, but that's got to be some sort of crime." you discuss while taking a sip of your wine, "there has to be some economic surplus and deficit issue going on there."

"babe, you've had macaroon mukkbangs with him in front of me."

you pucker your lips in response to your boyfriend's unwavering ability to bring the facts right to your face.

"okay, but he does it way more often than me. consider that. I have to train for a whole month to do that. satoru does it back to back."

"there is that," suguru agrees, eyes flickering to the plate that had just been served with a slice of peach cobbler minutes ago, "and I take it you liked the peach cobbler."

"yes!" you nod eagerly, planting an excited fist on the dining table, "I love that my boyfriend is such a good chef."

"and I love that my girlfriend eats well," suguru responds warmly as he gets up and picks up both of your plates, placing them in the dishwasher before saying, "I'm glad you liked it though. I love watching you enjoy what I make."

suguru then takes your hand, while you're seated, and places a fleeting kiss on the back of it.

"let's go to the bedroom."

god, he just says that and you're ruining the pantyhose even more now.

"okay," you nod, getting up and letting him lead the way to his room.

he doesn't say much during the quick few steps until he opens the door and shuts it behind him.

"you're not wearing panties, right, sweet girl?"

you turn around to look at him, shaking your head earnestly, "no sir."

he walks up to you and takes your head in his palm affectionally, brushing a careful thumb across your cheek while he looks at you lovingly, "good."

"get on your knees then baby."

immediately you're sinking onto the ground and suguru is unbuckling his belt for you, already pulling out his rock hard cock.

on instinct, you open your mouth and suguru takes the invitation without hesitation, popping the tip of his dick against the inside of your cheek again and again.

"those pantyhose must be ruined beyond repair right now, aren't they?"

"mhm" you nod as best you can considering what he's using your mouth for.

"god, I can't wait to rip a hole in them." he hisses while he starts to slide his shaft up and down in your mouth.

its your queue to start sucking him off like you know how to. you hollow your cheeks and let all the spit build up in your mouth, even if it does start to run down your mouth and onto your chest and the floor. every time he nearly pulls out, you swirl your tongue around the underside of his swollen head, and you love the way his hips jut up just a bit at the action.

suguru's let you take the reigns now, instead placing a loving hand on the side of your head and making sure your hair doesn't get in your face.

"missed this pretty face getting messy for my cock." he breathes, grip growing by just a smidge on your hair, "missed it so much. couldn't even fuck your face to get my stress out baby."

he sees the excitement simmer in your eyes and suguru leans over a bit, "what do you say sweet girl, want me to fuck your little throat?"

you nod feverishly, suckling on his tip to show enthusiasm.

suguru gives you a small smile in return while he pinches your cheek affectionately.

"good girl."

he starts to move your head up and down his length at a leisurely place, something not too drastic, where you can feel and taste him coherently

until he suddenly speeds up the pace unforgivingly

"there, there, "he groans almost, staring at your face, "fuck, you're such a filthy girl. what'd I do to get such a pretty slut like you?"

the vulgar praise makes you moan, and the vibrations from your throat make him react the same way

"if I weren't saving my cum for my pussy right now baby, I'd fill your mouth again and again until you're practically spilling." he utters, still jack hammering into your mouth and you're doing everything you can to not let yourself gag,

"you like helping me destress beautiful?" he says desperately, cheeks growing a tinge red as he locks eyes with you

suguru's hips give a warning stutter when you nod, and he suddenly pulls out, and brings you up by an arm, turning you around so he can yank your skirt down.

"fuck." is all that leaves his lips darkly before he helps you take your shirt off and pushes you towards the bed.

"all fours baby, near the edge, wanna get a good fucking view of that pussy."

"o-okay," you say, already ruined by his previous indulgence and in anticipation of what was to come.

you get on all fours immediately and without a moment's waste, suguru's already running a greedy hand up your soaked folds, practically stuck to the pantyhose

"fuck, you're going to kill me. thought I was gonna go insane yesterday."

slap!

suguru lands a painful strike on your pussy

"it's not nice to tease your boyfriend when he's working so hard for you sweetheart. almost lost my mind trying not to think about all the things I wanted to do to you on that library table."

then there's a loud tear, and suguru runs his tongue flat against your exposed folds without hesitation

he starts to literally makeout with your pussy, treating it the way he wants. as if your lips down there could respond to his own. it's all for his own pleasure, none of yours, and you don't mind, turned on way more by the fact that he's using your body in such a depraved way.

and so, because you figure tonight is all about him taking out his stress on you, suguru suddenly stops, and you can feel him sit down on the bed, dragging you to stand in front of him.

"sit on my dick baby," he says, turning you around to face your back towards him, hands gripping your waist.

"wait!" you start to whine for the first time tonight, "I can't do this one, it's too hard for me."

just as suguru was needy, you were needy too.

you wanted the easy relief of him pounding you from behind, with you on all fours. when you rode him him like this, bouncing up and down, it was such a trek. he was so big, even sitting on it was a great feat. and he poked your cervix so painfully every time you went back down like this.

"yeah you can," suguru praises, reaching a hand down to swipe his tip against your folds messily, using the other on your waist to bring you down a little, "you always end up loving how I fill you up when we do it like this sweet girl."

upset, but still eager to have him inside of you, you start to sink down onto him with a pout, unable to stop your mouth from dropping open at the delicious stretch he always gives you

"so fucking big." you whine when he's bottomed out and you feel like you can't breathe from how full he makes you feel

and maybe he was right, because when you pick your ass back up, the feeling of his dick passing through and massaging your pussy from the inside has you keening for more and you could care less about your cervix.

so now you're bouncing against him sporadically, having missed the feeling of him inside you for so long

"missed your dick so much sugu!" you whine, stabilizing your arms on his thighs, ignoring the burning in your legs

"oh my fucking god," he groans, landing a stinging spank on your ass, "I missed this wet little pussy so much too princess. fuck. keep going, dirty fucking girl. gonna buy a butt plug for you so you can wear it with this same little get up. look so fucking cute with a little bunny tail sticking out with this-fuck."

"mhm mhm."

"gonna be my bunny? since you're always looking for my dick? god, if I could keep you in bed all day just for me to fuck you I'd keep that pussy full to the brim."

"sug-sugu!"

"I know baby, I know," he groans, both hands now gripping your ass and pushing you back down again and again, "cum for me, I'll cum with you."

you feel your leg start to kick a little as a reaction to what's about to happen and suguru notices the small paralyzation overtaking your body as a result to the nearing bliss. so he sits up straight and hugs you tight, pummeling you from underneath

"ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod sugu sugu, im cumming im cumming!"

"cum for me baby," suguru says through each quick stroke, "oh my god I'm gonna fuck my load into this slutty fucking pussy. greedy fucking girl's milking it out of me."

and you feel suguru's cock spill inside of you in hard thrusts, giving you what you feel is one of the biggest loads ever, considering this is the first time the both of you have gone without sex with each other for more than two days.

suguru's still inside you when he pulls you onto the bed with him and reaches a hand down to massage your boob

"babe, you did cum a lot." you comment, feeling his load pool inside of you

"good," he breathes, "it'll look hot coming out of you with the pantyhose"

"...are you going to take a picture for your album"

"maybe"

[yngtort]

— puppy love

chan | lino | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin

NSFW ★

──────────

Xfem!reader : In which both you and seungmin are too shy to talk about sex, but too horny to keep your hands off each other. (Cute lil birthday post for my dear friend @sydnerss love you squid!)

Sex isn’t the most important thing in a relationship.

No, it’s communication.

Which is something both you and seungmin had stressed since the moment you got together. So why— why couldn’t you two just communicate about sex?

It seems like every time either of you wanted to fuck, you can never voice it. The most you did was lay down silent hints.

You’d walk around in the tiniest little shorts that show off your fluffy ass and thick thighs. Meanwhile, he’s wearing his joggers as low as possible, subtle vline being showed off like the piece of art it is.

You both won’t say a thing tho.

It’s til he’s grabbing you by the waist and pulling down to his lap, when you know he’s painfully hard. Dick pressing up against your ass as he looks up at expectantly, hoping you’d also take the hint.

At first you blamed on the fact that your relationship was relatively new. You both are quite shy anyways, it took you a while to even confess your romantic feelings for each-other.

— so being upfront about the sexual ones would be even harder.

just wanted to be respectful, dispute the absolutely disrespectful things y’all wanted to do.

And that’s why you’re stuck on the phone with him, ache in your core, listening to him hang out with his friends.

It’s been hours since the call started, something about seungmin missing your voice led y’all into spend your whole day together virtually. It’s a cute sentiment until youre scrolling through tumblr, landing on a post that has one of your hands slapped over your mouth, while the other is digging into your shorts.

It didn’t help how attractive seungmin sounds right now. Joking around with his crew with an edge in his voice that you hadn’t heard before. Your AirPods were turned up to an embarrassingly high volume.

You bite back a desperate whimper as your fingers just barely brush the deepest part of you. That spot where only seungmin could reach.

It’s a bit scandalous to be doing this, you admit. But you can’t help it when it’s been so long since you’ve gotten your back blown out.

If only you had the courage to tell him about how badly you needed him to fuck you into your pillows. But you dont.

Instead you’ll just quietly slut yourself out his voice. pathetically rolling your thumb on your clit as you chase after orgasm that just keeps slipping away.

you’re close- so so close—

“Y/n? You still there?” Seungmin called making your movements stutter. “Y/n?”

Damn it.

“Mhm, still here.” You say quickly. But there’s a slight shake in your voice that makes your boyfriends ears perk.

“You okay? You sound like you’re crying.”

“ ‘mm not.” Oh but you’re about to. Your body was begging for some kind of relief and whatever you were doing was not enough. Fingers all cramped up inside of you as try to keep on pumping.

“You sure? Do you need me to come over?”

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“No, I’m fine.” you mentally punch yourself as you hear seungmin hum, telling you to let him know if anything changes. But it won’t, you’re sure of it.

He goes back to playing around with his friends and you do the same, but with yourself.

Fingers weren’t cutting it anymore though, You needed something stronger. your legs swung over the bed, heading over to your dresser.

Where did you put it?

You rummage through your clothes until you’re pulling out pink little vibrator, shaped to resemble a rose. It’s been so long since you used it, is it even charged?

But you don’t have time worry about that, you’re too busy trying rid yourself of the knot in your stomach.

When you’re back on your bed, you quickly mute your mic— not without making an excuse to seungmin that you’re gonna play some music and that you didn’t want to disturb him with it.

In reality, it was because of how loud the said toy was despite what the packaging said when you got it. The Rose made a shit eating wiring sound as you placed on your clit.

But damn, it’s effective.

Soft moans floated off your lips and into the cold air of your room. You imagined that it was your boyfriend between your legs, licking and sucking as he pinned your hips down to the mattress.

your legs would curl over his sharp shoulders, while your hands latched onto a tuft of his brown locks. in your mind, you can practically see the intense look he’d be giving you. Dick probably throbbing in his pants as he eats you up.

you were completely wrapped up in your own fantasy, eyes stung with tears as your orgasm started to creep in finally. With your free hand, you dip those fingers inside of you, pressing upwards and just can’t help but cry out.

“Minnie, please. Need you so bad..” You whined, legs shaking immensely.

“If you needed me so bad, you should’ve just asked.”

You paused. No, everything had paused.

The rose went dead. Your heart stop beating. and your orgasm never came.

“I thought-“ you grabbed your phone, wide eyed because the mute button was untouched. “Oh my gosh, your friends didn’t hear me did they??”

“And if they did?” He rasped, “it’s not like you cared. Acting like a mutt in heat.”

Little did you know, seungmin didn’t even give them the chance. as soon as he sensed something was up with you— he was out the door. by the time he was on your street, you were moaning into the phone. he had to try not to swerve and hit a trash can, it was a mess.

“Seungmin…”

“Just come open the door.”

-

Everything happens in flash after you open that door.

You’re swept off your feet and forced into a desperate kiss. Seungmins nipping, biting, and sucking on your lips as he navigates through the house and into your room.

“you’re such a tease.” he says against your mouth, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“No, seung. I didn’t mean to-“ your words are cut off, being dropped on the bed knocked the wind out of your lungs.

“Fucking liar,” seungmin cursed, dark eyes glaring down at you. “You’re always doing this. putting yourself on display just to get my attention even though you already have it.”

He’s so right, you hate it— but it’s true. You had gotten so desperate and messy, when all you had to do was speak up.

“Did you have fun fucking on that weak toy of yours? Was it better than me? Hmm?” He asked, hovering over you. You gasp, feeling his fingers slide up your thighs and onto your core. His fingers pressed into the wet patch on your thin pajama shorts and seungmin has to hold back a scoff.

“I guess not.” He chuckled, rubbing you through the cloth until his fingers are drenched.

“s-seungmin,” you call and your boyfriend raised a brow.

“What? gonna beg like the needy lil pup you are?” He mocked, “go on then. Speak.”

A waterfall off of pleas leave your mouth in an instant. It was like seungmin a flipped a little switch in your mind, making you spill every dirty thought you had of him earlier.

You just wanted him buried between your thighs, helping your relieve the tightness in your gut after being edged all day. “Please, please, please Minnie. Needa’ cum so bad.”

a satisfied grin stretches across his face as he hear your demands.

“How could I possibly say no when you’re this cute?” He says before traveling down your body, leaving behind kisses until he’s face to face with your heat.

Without a thought, he slides your shorts to the side and latches his mouth onto your sore clit. Tongue lapping over the sensitive bud, making your back arch in pleasure.

Fuck, this was just what you needed. You’re rolling your hips against his face in such a shameless way— but did you care? No. All you cared about is getting your long awaited release.

it sneaks up on you, making you choke out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. seugmin has to dig his nails into your thighs, trying to keep your legs from closing up on him.

“Seungmin, s-stop.. t-that’s enough.” You sob, but your boyfriend doesn’t listen. He just continues to eat you out, amused as he watched you writhing in his hold from overstimulation.

a second wave of ecstasy hits, harder than the last and seungmin finally lets you free. “You’re so good for me, look how much you came.” He teased, wiping his face clean from your wetness.

“It’s your fault.” You huff, chest rising and falling.

“Guilty as charged” seungmin laughed, before leaning down and hauling you into another kiss. It’s a lazy and sloppy one, letting you get a taste of yourself.

your hands travel down to his torso, fingers tracing his soft features until you’re buried into the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck, y/n. Just like that.” Seugmin hisses at your cold palm wrapping around his hard length. you pump him, hand moving with easy thanks to the precum that leaked from his shaft.

“Seung,” you breathe out, looking him in the eyes. “fuck me and Make it hurt.”

“Bossy lil pup.”

In a matter of second seungmin flips you over onto all fours, pressing your face into the comforter.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He says from behind, tip diving into your entrance. You whine out loudly as you suck up every inch.

His thrusts are mad and wild, nails sunk into your hips and dick hitting your gspot every. Single. Time. The room is flooded with the sound of his hips meeting yours and the bed screaming under you.

“Yes yes yes, fuck me like that.” you cry out, only fueling the man inside you more.

“you like my dick that much?” He asked, snapping his hips harder. “You’re clenching so hard like it’s yours.”

“Mine.. want it so bad.” you splutter out.

“Then take it, baby.”

It’s not long before you’re both moaning mess, muscles tensing as you feel your high course through you. seungmin dips down, pressing his face into your nape as he milks himself. His load fills you until there’s a little bulge in your belly and it only deflates when he pulls out.

He slumps over to the side of you and wraps an arm around your waist, bringing you to his chest.

“Now, i think it’s time we have a little chat about our communication skills.”

“Seungmin…. I can’t even think right now.”

:)

[immortalmrwavell]

Adam and Mr Wavell

(Written for @transformee) (Original story posted September 27th 2021) This story has been significantly Updated!

It’d started like any other normal day for Adam. He got up out of bed. Got himself some breakfast. Headed out for work. The usual routine that he’d long since gotten used to. Being an engineer certainly wasn’t the worst job in the world. In fact Adam found it rather rewarding sometimes and the pay was decent enough. If anyone were to ask, Adam would say he was satisfied with his life. And that was half true. Sure he was content with the life he had now. He couldn’t exactly complain about having a stable job that allowed him to live somewhat comfortably. Yet despite that Adam always kinda wished his lifestyle was a tad bit… different.

Each and every day when Adam opened one of his social media’s, his feed would practically be flooded with men who were smoking hot and jacked as fuck. And most of these men pretty much got paid just for looking as incredible as they do. Whether that be as a personal trainer, model, an actor or even in porn! These men got paid to look sexy as fuck and show it off. It sounded like a dream!

In all honesty It was that sort of lifestyle Adam wished he would have strived for instead. He wasn't a bad looking dude by any means. He believed he was pretty handsome, just a little out of shape was all. Mostly due to how he was never able to really push himself into working out or dieting properly. And for the longest time Adam thought he was okay with that. Deep down however, part of him always wished he’d led the same lifestyle as those fit hunks he saw online.

Being in his thirties now Adam had started to believe that perhaps a lifestyle like that just wasn’t for him. Since then he’d tried to just make peace with the fact that he was just an average looking dude working a normal job. That was until he arrived home later that evening and everything changed.

Adam unlocked the front door before stepping into his home. Letting out a long sigh of relief as he closed it behind him.

“Home at last I see.”

Adam almost jumped out his skin as he whipped around to see a man sat in a chair across the room.

“W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!?” Adam bellowed at the man in a panic. His brain was already cycling at a hundred miles a minute trying to think of the best course of action. Grab a weapon? Call the police? And yet while Adam was freaking out, the gentleman sitting in his house seemed completely unfazed.

With a smirk the man stood up from his seat, allowing Adam to get a better look at him. From what Adam could tell, the man looked to be in his early forties, late thirties at the youngest. He had short brown hair along with a nicely trimmed beard to match, the latter of which had a few flecks of silver running through it. As for his body, he looked to be just about 6 feet tall, if a tiny bit less. In terms of his build, the man seemed relatively lean with very little fat or muscle. As for his clothes, he wore a navy blue suit jacket over a white button up shirt along with a navy dotted tie. These were contrasted by a pair of tan khaki pants which were held firmly in place by a brown belt. Lastly his feet were clad in a fairly large pair of dark brown dress shoes along with a pair of black dress socks. An ordinary business casual look but this man seemed to be anything but ordinary.

(Original Version of Mr Wavell here)

“You don’t need to be afraid Adam. I’m here to help you.” The mysterious man claimed in a way that probably sounded more ominous than intended. Despite it he began to step towards Adam.

“N-no… how do you know my name? I don’t know you!” Adam panicked as he moved backwards to keep his distance until his back was against the front door. He was about to reach for the handle and run outside until suddenly… he felt calm? Safe even? It was as if all of his natural danger sense had turned themselves off in favor of wanting to trust the stranger before him.

“No you don’t know me. But I know you Adam. I’ve been watching you for a little while now. Looking into your mind. Reading your desires.” The suited stranger’s voice was oddly soothing, so much so that Adam hardly even noticed his eyes glowing deep purple for a moment. “You may refer to as Mr Wavell” He revealed, the very name sending shivers up Adam’s spine for reasons unknown. “And for what I’m doing here? Well… I’m just looking for entertainment I suppose.” Wavell shrugged nonchalantly.

He went on to explain that he had… abilities. Abilities that allowed him to do things thought to be impossible. Despite the inexplicable wave of calm and trust that’d washed him moments ago, Adam couldn’t bring his rational mind to believe the man. Afterall he was talking about having magical powers like some kind of wizard! But before Adam had a chance to protest, he found himself frozen in both wonder and fear as Mr Wavell began to float off the ground.

“I must reiterate that I’m here to help, not hurt you.” Wavell said, noting the bewildered look on Adam’s face. “I can give you any life that you desire. Allow you to become whoever you choose. What do you say?” He boldly claimed, floating down until he stood directly beside Adam, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Adam was still frozen stiff. Was he dreaming? Was this actually real??

“Oh come on. You know this is a privilege right? It’s not everyday that I actually reveal my physical self to the people I help.” Wavell said, leaning forwards with a small smirk. That of course only left more questions in Adam’s mind.

The mysterious man went on to explain in further detail what exactly he could do for Adam. He could alter reality to change Adam’s past choices in order to create a new and better present. He could transform Adam’s body right here on the spot into anything Adam desired. Muscle growth, increase of height, bigger dick? All things that Adam’s rational mind wouldn’t have believed to be possible had it not been for the obvious display of real magic he’d just witnessed. However there was one option that caught Adam’s ear. Stealing the life and body of someone else. As confused and scared as Adam was right now, he couldn’t help but be curious and even slightly aroused at the mere idea of it.

“O-okay…” Adam mumbled meekly. “I want your help…”

Wavell clapped his hands together with a large grin. “Perfect! Now there are many different ways I can do this.” He began, sounding almost a little too enthusiastic about it all. “I can switch your soul with another person. Your soul in their body and theirs in your body. I could transform you and this other person into one another. You transform into him and vice versa. You get it.” Wavell laid out the options as if he were about to have Adam choose one. “However I’ve already picked out another more interesting method for you. So all I want you to do is pick someone.”

Adam thought for a moment. If this was real then this could be one of the biggest decisions of his life. But surely there was some kind of monkey‘s paw right? “What’s the catch?” He asked, finally putting on a brave face.

The magical imbued stranger raised an eyebrow to Adam. “There isn’t one. You don’t owe me a thing. Honestly!” Wavell stepped back and put his hands up. “I’m doing this because I love it. It’s what I do. Hopefully once it’s all over you’ll enjoy it just as much as I.” Wavell lowered his hands before placing them on his hips. “Now. Is there anybody you have in mind who perhaps you’d like to become?”

Adam thought for a moment. He wasn't sure. This was just so surreal it made it hard to think. Like a fog clouding his thoughts. “I don’t… know?”

“Don’t worry. I get you’re probably still trying to wrap your mind around all this so I’ll do you a favor.” Wavell gently placed a hand on Adam's head and closed his eyes. Immediately Adam felt strange. As if he could feel this man’s fingers shuffling through his mind. Feeling out his wants and desires until Wavell got a decent idea of the kind of body to put Adam in. He took his hand away from Adam’s head. “I think I know just the guy but he’s not exactly close. He lives up in Virginia while you’re here in Georgia. How would you feel about a little change of scenery?”

“What do yo—“ before Adam could finish, the world around him spun and shifted.

———

Chris found himself standing alone in the locker room at his local gym. It was just about closing time now and he was the last guy remaining other than staff. He wiped away the sweat that’d been dripping down his face with a towel as he grabbed his stuff out of the locker. It’d been another tough workout for him today but it was always worth it to feel that pump and admire the physique he’d been able to build thanks to all his hard work. Unbeknownst to him however, a certain two individuals watched on behind a veil of magic that cloaked them both from sight..

Moments prior, Adam and Wavell arrived at the gym via the latter’s unique abilities. In a gust of purple smoke, Adam went from standing by his front door to now finding himself standing inside a gym locker room that didn’t seem at all familiar.

“H-H-Hoolyyy… FUCK! What just HAPPENED!?” Adam shouted hysterically.

“Basic teleport.” Wavell replied swiftly and bluntly as if that should’ve been common knowledge. “Don’t worry about that. Look.” Wavell nodded towards the entrance to the locker room, prompting Adam to look as well.

Mere seconds after, a sweaty muscular man wearing a tight tank top and shorts entered. He was in phenomenal shape. Far better than Adam was. Not only did he look sculpted with thick muscle from head to toe, but this hunk even had one of the most handsome faces to go along with it. Yet despite all the starring Adam and Wavell were doing, the jock seemed to pay no mind to either of them. Not even a glance. Like he didn’t even know they existed!

“I’ve made us invisible to him. He can neither see nor hear us.” Mr Wavell confirms to Adam. Right on cue this man they now seem to be spying on walked directly past them both without a clue. As he does Adam gets a good whiff of the stud's powerful post workout scent, turning the semi he got just from looking at the man into a full hard on. The pair continued to watch as the man opened up his locker and pulled out a towel to wipe himself down with.

“His name is Chris. He’s twenty eight years old and has been working out most of his life. Hence the gorgeous physique. And to top it off he’s quite the looker. Needless to say his body and looks have awarded him a lot. Modeling opportunities. A large following on social media. An army of men and women alike drooling over him and eager to throw money at him. He’s one lucky bastard.” The warlock explained, seeming to possess a bottomless well of knowledge. “I’d ask how you feel about him but I think I already know the answer.” Wavell sniggered as he glanced down at the bulge in Adams pants.

Adam’s face turned a bright shade of red as he tried to hide his growing arousal with little success. He couldn’t help it as his eyes traced over the glistening sweaty physique of the hunky god before him. Watching intently as the man removed his tank top to reveal the muscle that’d been hidden underneath.

“So… are you gonna turn me into… him?” Adam gulped, trying his best not to drool at the mere thought of it as he watched the man peel off the tank top. His cock getting even more excited at the reveal of Chris’ muscled upper body.

Wavell simply nodded.

“Does that mean you’re gonna turn him into me?” Adam wondered.

Wavell crossed his arms and hummed. “Not exactly. Normally I would but I’ve got something different in mind today.” Wavell confessed as the blank look on his face slowly turned to a sadistic looking grin that left Adam feeling a bit nervous for Chris’ fate. But the magical being was quick to notice this, his look softening again to one of reassurance. “And before you ask, no I’m not going to kill him or anything like that. He’ll be perfectly fine.”

Hearing that set Adam’s mind at ease. That said he was however rather curious to see what Wavell was planning. What exactly was he gonna do to this Chris guy?

It was then that Wavell’s eyes glowed that bright purple once more. At first Adam didn’t realise what Wavell had done until…

“Hey… Where the hell did you guys come from?” Chris asked as he turned to see two men staring at him from across the locker room. It was like they’d just appeared out of thin air.

Wavell stepped forward, straightening his tie as he did “Oh I just know you’re gonna enjoy this body Adam.” He declared, running his gaze up and down Chris’ body. Lingering on those enormous thighs and juicy pecs.

At this point Chris was getting super creeped out and understandably so. “What the fuck are talking about dude!? Are you trying to hit on me or something?” He questioned, quickly getting annoyed at how this dude was eyeing him up like a piece of meat.

It was then in the blink of an eye that Wavell stood inches away from Chris. It seeing a real life glitch as Wavell instantly moved from halfway across the room to his face being less than a ruler's length away from Chris. He barely had time to think let alone act before Wavell grabbed one of his boulder-like shoulders. Suddenly Chris was completely immobilised thanks to Wavell’s magic. And with that the aforementioned wizard slipped his other hand down in Chris’ gym shorts before cupping his crotch. Loving how Chris’ cock and balls pressed tightly against the pair of white compression shorts he wore underneath.

“Don’t worry big guy. I promise you won’t even feel a thing.” An ominously reassuring smile spread across Wavell’s face as his eyes glowed once more. It was then that a bright flash of light enveloped both him and Chris, forcing Adam to cover his eyes. It only lasted a couple of seconds but when the light dissipated, Chris was nowhere to be seen. The only things left of the hunk were his clothes as the gym shorts he’d been wearing fell to the floor atop of the now empty pair of socks and trainers. Meanwhile those white compression shorts Chris had been wearing were still in Wavell’s hand, the warlock holding them gently now as he inspected them for whatever reason.

Chris had no idea what just happened. That weird middle aged looking dude just grabbed him and now all of a sudden he felt so light and… hollow? The first thing he saw was the smirking face of that dude again only now it was from a lower angle, as if he were being held by the man and looked down upon. Yet as bizarre as that was, he couldn’t ignore the strong smell that seemed identical to his own crotch. Only now it surrounded him completely. Somehow Chris was able to shift his gaze in order to look down at himself and what he saw was unreal. Not just unreal, it was impossible and terrifying! No longer did he see the thick muscular body he was used to seeing. In fact he didn’t see a human body at all! He’d been turned into the very same pair of white compression shorts he’d been wearing! He could even feel the creepy dude’s hand against the fabric of the compression shorts as if it were his own skin! He wanted the scream in horror but nothing came out thanks to his lack of a face. It was only thanks to magic that he could still see and hear.

“This’ll do just fine.” Wavell said before turning to Adam who was still looking on in confusion. “I’ve trapped him inside these shorts he was wearing. I’ve made it so he can still see, hear, feel, taste and smell with his spiritual senses in there but besides that he’s completely helpless.” Wavell explained with a tad too much enjoyment. “Now all you’ve got to do is put him on and everything he had will become yours.”

Wavell instructed Adam to strip down. The latter hesitated for a moment but did but nervously did as he was asked. Afterwards not being able to help feeling a little embarrassed with how exposed he felt but Wavell didn’t seem to mind. The warlock handed the enchanted compression shorts over to Adam with a mischievous smile, clearly excited to see what was to come.

Chris was unsurprisingly freaking the fuck out as Adam took the shorts. Between what’s happened to him and hearing what Wavell had just said, he was having a complete meltdown. He didn’t want this Adam guy to take over his life!? Unfortunately his cries fell on deaf ears. He was powerless to stop it. Unable to do a single thing as Adam gently slipped his legs into the compression shorts one at a time before pulling them up. Chris protested all he could but it made no difference as Adam pulled Chris’ hollow fabric body over his ass and crotch.

As insane as this whole situation was, Adam couldn’t help shivering with delight. Knowing he was not only wearing compression shorts that belonged to such a hunk but also that same hunk was trapped inside them! He knew it was wrong and twisted of him to get satisfaction out of this but he couldn’t help it! Even though the shorts were a bit ill fitting on him, just having that jock’s musk surrounding his own crotch was turning him on like hell!

“So, how long will it ta-aaaakeeeuuuuaahhhhhhh” Adam’s question quickly devolved into a long groan thanks to an unfamiliar sensation that began racing through his body! Flooding every vein in his body with levels of magical energy his brain found difficult to comprehend. And then it began.

Before anything else the energy began to focus on Adam’s glutes. His groans became even louder as his ass cheeks started to tone and expand with muscle until it had ballooned into a thick muscle ass that filled out the backside of his new compression shorts perfectly. The feeling of which had Adam’s already hard cock leaking pre-cum that stained the front of said shorts. And yet despite it being at full mast, Adam could feel his cock somehow growing longer and fatter too! His bulge grew even more obvious by the second while his balls swelled larger as well to accommodate. His nuts now churned with the very same cum Chris once had.

Through all his groaning Adam was able to look down at his crotch and over his shoulder to see that he now had Chris’ cock and ass! And as his hips resized, the haunted compression shorts now fit him like a glove. Meanwhile Chris himself was soaring through a flurry of emotions as he begged to wake up from whatever nightmare he was trapped in. He could feel himself being stretched out across his out muscle butt while the taste of cum soaked into his fabric. Unfortunately for him, this was very very real.

From there the transformation continued to spread outwards and it progressed both up and down Adam’s body. His quads and hamstrings found themselves bulking up significantly, causing a soft grunt to escape Adam’s lips as he grew a set of meaty thunderous thighs. Simultaneously his eyes widened with disbelief as the fat on his belly started to melt away before his eyes, replacing itself with pure muscle mass in the form of strong thick abs. The kind Adam could’ve only dreamed of having. Every part of him wanted to stop and admire his new bulky thighs and abs but the transformation was far too impatient to give him the time.

Next up were his calves. He could feel them pulsing as they swelled with power to match his thighs. But they weren’t the real show. How could they be when Adam was far too absorbed into watching his flabby chest transform into a huge pair of pecs! It was something he’d always dreamed of. Being able to look down and see a hulking pair of muscle tits. And now it's finally becoming a reality! Adam’s eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and lust as he watched his chest begin to protrude outwards. His engorged cock growing more excited than ever as his pecs inflated into two gorgeous watermelons. He already wanted nothing more than to grope them and if he hadn’t felt the transformation beginning to surge through his arms, he would’ve.

But before his arms could have their glory, his shoulders exploded with mass first. Growing in an almost cartoony fashion as they transformed into cannonballs while his traps made sure to follow suit. With that, Adam’s biceps couldn’t wait any longer. He flexed them with a long moan as ballooned under the pressure, swelling to massive proportions with unthinkable strength. Soon after his forearms followed the same example as veins began popping like crazy across his bulging arms.

What came next however felt distinctly different from everything else. His hands and feet. They were a totally different experience but still painless nonetheless. His feet were the first to change. Increasing size after size at a rapid rate that certainly would’ve made his shoes feel tighter had he not taken them off. His hands weren’t far behind though as they too grew slightly. The more noticeable change however was how much rougher and calloused they became.

At last Adam’s body seemed complete but there was one last thing to change. As soon as the transformation had spread up his neck, causing it to thicken and his voice to deepen, his head was all that was left.

Adam gritted his teeth and scrunched his face as his features began to twist and alter themselves. Immediately he started to look younger than before as he regressed from his mid thirties back to his late twenties. His face quickly brgan taking on a much more jockish look as he started to look less and less like himself and more like Chris. To top it off his hair morphed into Chris’ messy brown style while his eyes shifted more towards Chris’ soft yet still masculine ones. Finishing things off by having Chris’ short brown beard sprout across Adam’s now much sharper jawline.

At last the intense sensation subsided. Adam was finally able to catch his breath as sweat dripped down his transformed physique. He looked down at himself in disbelief. It didn’t seem real but… he now owned the body of a total fucking hunk! He simply couldn’t help himself as he flexed his new massive guns, taking turns feeling them with each hand. Feeling the power flowing through his biceps as he flexed them was something else entirely. And of course he couldn’t ignore the huge new muscle titties that sat on his chest now. He was groping and flexing them too in no time. It’d be a crime not to worship them. With the excitement of it all, Adam also couldn’t help but dig his nose into his new sweaty pits to get a good whiff of that post workout scent he’d adopted from Chris.

“See. I always know what’s best for my clients.” Wavell sniggered. Adam was so enthralled by his new body that he’d almost forgotten Wavell was there.

“Clients?” Adam questioned, a little shocked by the sound of his new voice.

“Well… ‘clients’ sounds better than ‘subjects’.” The warlock admitted cheekily. “Now! I’m sure you’ve already got questions and I’m pretty certain I know the first one. Are you gonna turn back to normal if you take those compression shorts off? Well allow me to reassure you in saying no.” Wavell confirmed what Adam was bound to ask. “When I trapped Chris inside those shorts, I also sealed his physical essence inside them. Now that you’ve worn them however, that physical essence is inside you. Permanently. So you’ll never have to worry about losing your new body. By all means it belongs to you now. Besides… I’m sure you want to get a better look at what’s underneath.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows while glancing down at the obscene bulge in Adam’s shorts.

Adam turned and strutted over to one of the many locker room mirrors, cock bouncing awkwardly as he did. Immediately upon seeing his reflection Adam was awestruck. He was in love. With himself!! He just couldn’t help admiring his muscles some more before eventually grabbing the waistband and pulling down his haunted shorts. The real Chris screams in protest as he finds himself dropping to this imposter's ankles.

“Oh… Fuuuuuuuccck…” Adam muttered as his new cock flopped out before him in all its glory. His hand practically gravitated towards it before wrapping around the girthy shaft. God it was massive. He was almost afraid to start pumping it since after all that transforming, it felt like it was ready to blow at any second! The sensitivity on it was just through the roof! But Adam couldn’t help himself and ended up giving it a few tugs. In turn he found himself letting out a deep manly groan before, allowing the monster to buck involuntarily for a moment.

Before he ended up busting a nut, Adam’s decided he wanted to get a better look at his new glutes first as he turned his backside to the mirror. He just loved how big and bubbly his cheeks looked. When he flexed them they were as hard as steel but relaxed they felt squishy and jiggly. Part of him wished he could stuff his face into his own ass with how good it looked. That’s when another thought sprung to mind. Adam gently reached back towards his ass, squeezing it a little before slipping a finger between his cheeks as a way to test something. And it was just as he thought. The moment his finger came anywhere near his new asshole it immediately tightened on instinct. The reflex was so strong that it pretty much confirmed Chris used to be straight. Well not anymore. This ass was far too hot to go to waste.

As much as he wanted to tease his virgin ass a little more, Adam just couldn’t ignore his cock any longer. It was pulsing and begging for release at this point. He needed to grab it! He needed to jerk it! He needed to bust a fuckin nut bro! As Chris would say anyway. But before he could begin pumping, Wavell chirped up yet again.

“How about you let me take care of that for you. Just think of it as your way of thanking me.” Wavell licked his lips as sauntered over towards Adam before kneeling in front of that massive cock. Wavell opened his mouth before wrapping his lips around Adam’s meaty dick and began sucking like a pro.

“Oouh-ooooh… ooauhh… Oohhhhuuu!” Adam was completely taken aback as he was forced to let out disjointed moans once again. All the while his new voice echoed through the locker rooms. Just the view of being able to look down and now only see such a hot jock body as his own but also seeing this hot older man sucking him off was beyond sexy. Wavell swiftly bobbed his head up and down on the cock, somehow taking Adam’s entire length without even the slightest gag. Whoever the hell this Mr Wavell guy was, he certainly knew how to work those bearded lips of his around a huge cock. That’s for fucking for sure.

“Fuuuuuck!! I’m gonna… OOOAAUUHHH!!“ Adam Could feel it already. A tsunami of cum getting ready to spew from his dick. Before he’d even laughed Wavell was already grabbing onto Adam’s ass to make sure he didn’t try and pull away. But of course Adam had no plans on doing as his dick finally let loose torrents of hot cum that down Wavell’s throat. The older man gulped it all down greedily, sucking every last drop of cum out of Adam’s cock before finally pulling off it, a bit of cum dribbling down his beard.

“Ahhhhhhhh…” Wavell leaned back with a look of pure satisfaction crossing his face. “Now that was refreshing. I can confirm that your new cum tastes absolutely delicious.” Wavell confessed as he got back up onto his feet. He dusted himself off a little before readjusting his suit and tie. “Well it seems my work here is done. Chris’ memories should start to kick in for you in about 10 minutes from now. You’ll then know everything you need to know about his life. Where your new home is, how he earns money, what kinds of friends he keeps. And whatever else you need to play out his life as if it were your own.” Wavell looked down at the tight compression shorts Adam had begun pulling back up. “And the real Chris gets to watch everything from between your legs… or from the laundry basket.” He chuckled.

With that Wavell began to levitate off the ground once again. “I’m off to have some more fun. Enjoy that hunky new body of yours Adam. Or should I call you Chris? That is your new name now after all.” Mr Wavell grinned knowing just how much the real Chris was begging to be set free. “Keep your eyes open though. I might come back and visit you again some day just to check in.” And just like that the magical man seemingly disappeared into thin air, leaving Adam alone.

Finally alone at last, Adam looked down at the compression shorts that now cling tightly to his hulking body. “Enjoying yourself down there? Being pressed against your own dick and balls?” Adam teased somewhat cruelly, enjoying this a little more than he probably should be right now. Going as far as to reach down and grope his crotch to really rub the scent in.

This whole time Chris had been screaming and protesting as this body snatcher groped his body and even more so when he’d got his dick sucked by another dude! But now as the scent of his former cock and balls mixed with cum and sweat started to mess with Chris’ fragile mind, he was starting to give in at last. His thoughts grew foggier while his fabric body continued to absorb the powerful smell. He looked up only to see his own handsome face smirking down at him. No. It wasn’t his face anymore. There was no going back. Now he was nothing more than a pair of compression shorts for his master to wear.

Meanwhile Adam decided to open the bag that’d been in Chris’s locker only to pull out a pair of clean grey t-shirt and a cap. Without hesitation he slipped both of them on, loving how the large shirt hugged his muscular frame in all the right places. After which he grabbed and pulled on the black gym shorts Chris had been wearing earlier before tugging on Chris’ gym socks and trainers. All of it fitting him like a glove. At last turning to the trusty mirror once again, he couldn’t help but whistle at how fucking sexy he looked! So much so that he started turning to inspect his body for all different angles. God he just couldn’t get enough of those bulky legs. As much as he adored his arms and pecs, he was starting to think his legs may actually be his best asset afterall.

He couldn’t help grabbing Chris’ phone and taking a few quick photos of himself to savour the moment. Pictures he’d surely look back on in the future to remember the day when he stole this body. And to jerk off too of course. Maybe he’d even post them to one of his new socials later.

Now all he had to do was wait for these memories to kick in. That Mr Wavell dude said they were gonna come any second and when they did Adam was truly going to become Chris inside and out. And once he’d settled into his new life he was gonna see if he could find some dudes eager to fuck his muscle ass get railed by his enormous new cock. With a body like this he was bound to have stamina for hours.

Then it hit him. All at once. Adam let out a thunderous roar as his mind flooded with memories from Chris’ life. Most of them being delegated to the back of his consciousness to pull on when needed while others came straight to the forefront. Immediately he knew everything there was to know about Chris. He even felt some of Chris’ personality traits starting to take root. That cocky gym bro attitude was starting to settle in comfortably. He might’ve still remembered everything from when he was Adam, but that wasn’t who he was anymore. That was a mere shell that the real him had finally emerged from.

Chris strode confidently out of the Gym and towards his car. He just couldn’t wait to get home so he could strip down and take as many nudes as possible of himself. His new life was about to be absolutely incredible.

[beenbaanbuun]

mothers w/ mingi

words - kind of short

genres - fluff

warnings - shaving, bad relationships with family, bad relationships with food, body issues, inherited insecurity, mingi is a precarious baby

——————————————————————————

“do you think your ball trimmer will shave legs?” you turn and look at mingi who’s lay innocently on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. that is until your words sink in and his gaze shoots up to where you stand with the small contraption in hand.

“i guess so,” he shrugs as he turns his phone off and puts it straight down. you ignore the way his eyes furrow as you turn it on and inspect the blades close up. you don’t know how close the shave would be, but you guess in desperate times, that doesn’t really matter. at this point, any shave will do.

you switch it off again and nod to yourself, placing it on the dresser before going through your drawers to grab your other things ready for a shower. you pick up a plain blue pair of cotton panties that despite not being sexy at all, you’re sure mingi will find an excuse to rip off of you post shower. then you grab your comfiest sports bra that again has one too many holes to be considered sexy. finally you grab one of mingi’s shirts - an oversized one that seems to have taken permanent residence in your pyjama drawer - and begin to head to the bathroom with your boyfriend’s ball trimmer in hand too.

“hang on a second, baby,” he calls out after you, scrambling off the bed and rushing towards you until you’re close enough for him to swaddle in his grasp. arms wrap around your shoulders, pinning you to his chest, “what do you think you’re doing?”

you lean back against him, enjoying the impromptu hug more than you’d care to admit.

“shaving my legs,” you close your eyes as you inhale the familiar peppery smell of his cologne; it’s warm and invades your senses, just like him, “i lost my razor so i need to use this.”

“why are you shaving your legs?” he asks, not quite satisfied with your reply. probably because you’d stopped bothering with that sort of thing pretty soon into the relationship. it’s a lot of effort, and your hair seems to be the last thing on mingi’s mind when he saw your legs. mostly he just thinks about what’s between them and how he’s going to get to it. he hardly even pays notice to the prickly hairs that run up and down your skin.

“we’re going on holiday with my mother,” you grumble in reply, “i have to be prepared.”

ah yes; the monster-in-law…

she’s a lovely lady for the most part, inviting mingi into the family with open arms despite the fact that she obviously wasn’t expecting him when you said you were bringing a boyfriend home. its clear she doesn’t approve of the way he dresses, or the nail varnish that coats his fingertips, but that doesn’t stop her from treating him like her own son. he gets the biggest portions of her home cooked meals and the first pick of desert. she calls him handsome when she sees him wearing something she likes, and compliments his uniqueness whenever he’s wearing something that’s a little more outlandish for her old-fashioned taste. she thinks he’s brave when he colours his hair in an outlandish fashion, and gorgeous when he wears it black. all in all, she’s a pretty lovely woman once you get past the hard shell of her traditional values.

and, of course, if you ignore the way she treats you.

to be honest, mingi is impressed at how resilient you turned out after living with that woman for 18 years. constantly having your self esteem torn down can’t be good for someone’s mental health, and yet you made it out the other side with a relatively normal relationship with your body. you have a healthy relationship with food, if you don’t count the days when mingi has to coax you to eat just a little more, and the days where he’d find you scrutinising yourself in front of a mirror are, for the most part, long gone! sometimes you tell him it’s because of him you feel so comfortable in your body; he refuses to take any of the credit for your own inability to be broken.

in fact, it’s only moments like this that he begins to see cracks in those walls you’ve built up. moments when you know you’ll have to see your mum soon. it’s like alarm bells go off in your mind reminding you that you haven’t quite met her standards yet. eat less because ‘you’ve gained a bit weight recently; you ought to keep an eye on that’. shave your legs because ‘as a woman you shouldn’t have hair on your legs; it’s just not natural’. buy expensive skincare products because ‘acne? at your age? you really should take better care of yourself’. it’s these moments that mingi can see the damage done. that he really has to take care of you.

“you shouldn’t listen to your mum,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and gives you an extra tight squeeze with his gangly arms, “they’re your legs, not hers; you only ever have to do what you want to with your body.”

“i know,” you say, leaning your back into his sturdy chest. he’s so warm and cosy, so reliable and strong. the small smile that rises to your face as he holds you close is involuntary. you guess you’re just so in love that you can help it, “she’s just so hard to be around when i’m not absolutely perfect.”

“well then i don’t see the issue here,” he lets you go for just a few seconds, spinning you around until you’re facing him. once more he encloses you in his grasp, a loose grip around your waist just to keep you close, “you’re already perfect, baby.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you giggle. he laughs too. in that moment nothing matters to you but him.

“it’s not cheesy if it’s the truth,” he bends down and presses a firm kiss to your lips, “perfect, perfect, perfect baby.”

[snixkers]

Einstein's Theory of Relativity

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Fluff

Content Warnings: Large dog, mention of rabies, allusion to cheating, slight suggestive content, kissing

Summary: Spencer comes home to find you in a compromising position.

Author's Note: Decided to post a drabble I've had for a while, enjoy!!!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN

Usually, I was greeted by her face as soon as I got home, rushing to the door and enveloping me in a warm hug that smelled of citrus and comfort. But today, I set down my things and looked around at an empty apartment. Even though it was illogical, my first thought was to panic.

Did she leave? I knew I worked unpredictable hours and was hardly ever there, but I always tried to make it up as best I could. Maybe she decided she couldn’t take it anymore and left. Then my mind slipped into darker territory, worries I buried in the back of my mind and refused to let out.

What if it wasn’t of her own volition? The BAU was no stranger to targeted attacks, especially on their loved ones. I kept a tight grip on my service weapon as I crept through the house, using my training to carefully clear each room.

Finally, I reached the bathroom, where slivers of light were peeking through the door. I sighed in relief, putting away my things when a noise caught my attention.

She clearly was not alone in that bathroom, and she sounded out of breath as she splashed with the other person in the bath. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I immediately assumed the worst. I opened the door quickly, stepping inside and-

I stared in surprise at the sight of her wrestling with a large rottweiler, her t-shirt left soaked from an unsuccessful attempt at a bath. She turned around to face me, offering an apologetic smile. “Welcome home?”

I stood there dumbfounded for a moment before realizing what she had done.

“Where did you get it?”

She rolled her eyes at me, brushing off his concerns as if the 100-lb dog sitting in the tub was just a guinea pig.

“It is a he, and he was wandering the neighborhood. I wanted to take him home and clean him up.”

“You can’t just take dogs off the street. Up to 99% of rabies cases are from domestic dogs.”

She grinned, ready to dismiss my concern with a counterargument as soon as the words left my mouth.

“He didn’t have a collar, so I took him to the vet. He’s not sick, but he’s not chipped either, which means he’s ours to keep.”

I narrowed my eyes, not ready to give up quite yet.

“Well, where are we going to put him? Who will watch him? I’m halfway across the country most of the week.”

She stood up, crossing her arms proudly at how much effort she had put into this.

“Our apartment is big enough, and pets are allowed. I work from home most days, so I can take care of him just fine.”

I took a deep breath, running a hand through my hair as I tried to convince her that this wasn’t the great idea she thought it was, but every time I came up short. Despite trying to be rational, something about the dog made me want to just hold him close.

She sighed, pouting softly and standing up to move closer to him. “I just need a week to prove it to you. He’s the cutest little thing. Please?”

I stared down at her, my resolve crumbling as she stuck her lip out slightly.

“Fine, we’ll see how this goes.”

She broke into a huge smile, wrapping her arms around me gratefully. I pulled her closer, trying to take in as much of this moment as possible. I stepped back a few seconds later, squinting my eyes at the dog in the bath.

“What’s his name?”

She grinned, clearly pretty pleased with her idea.

“I was thinking of Einstein.”

[twig-tea]

Why We Are Gives Me Anxiety

I have been fighting myself on this We Are post for weeks because I wanted to make sure I knew what I wanted to say and was able to say it. I feel the need to say off the top that I don’t begrudge anyone who enjoyed this show and I’m genuinely glad it brought comfort to people. The show in and of itself, as 16 hour-long episodes of fluff (shout-out to @stuffnonsenseandotherthings for using this word to pinpoint the genre for this show, because it’s perfect), is not offensive or bad or wrong or any judgmental or moralistic word. And it does some things well; the centrality of the friend group was a lovely aspect to this show, and the chemistry in the friendship group scenes was on point. All of the couples have good romantic chemistry as well, and the show is packed with butterflies-inducing moments. 

That being said, I did not enjoy watching this show. I watch television mostly for the story; This show felt more like watching 16 special episodes for a show I hadn’t seen (I think this can be attributed to the point made by @italianpersonwithashippersheart in her post here that the show assumes the audience comes to the show with a pre-existing buy-in to the ships). The lack of overarching narrative structure of We Are gave my brain nothing to hold onto and I spent so much of every episode futilely trying to figure out how scenes worked with what had come before, what the show was trying to say, what these characters were thinking–all of which I knew was the wrong way to be watching, but it’s the way my brain works, so I spent a lot of the show frustrated. In short, this show wasn’t for me. 

But that’s not why I feel the need to write about it. Shows are fully allowed to not be for me, I usually can differentiate between when a show is doing something I don’t like well, or when it’s failing at its own goals. And I don’t begrudge people with different taste getting catered to sometimes; my refrain is that most problems of representation are not solved by calling for less of something, and rather than wanting something not to be made, I’d rather champion for more and a greater variety of content. And lord knows there’s enough BL to go around these days (shouting out @respectthepetty’s post along these lines, which I loved) . But We Are still worries me, and I’ve been trying to find a way to articulate that my concerns are not actually about the show itself, in isolation, but rather about how it feels like part of a pattern. This is my best attempt at laying that out. It’s going to get a little ramble-y, so apologies in advance.

Shout-out to @bengiyo who first articulated this anxiety in his post from relatively early in the show’s run . Ben gets into some of where I’m coming from with concerns about what this show means for the genre in this post, which as he mentions we've chatted about in DMs. I’m really grateful to him for these conversations because in isolation, I worried that I was being alarmist. It was helpful to have confirmation that he was feeling the same way so that I could get out of my own head.  

Ben mentions in his post that New Siwaj has been in this business a long time, and I, like Ben, have jived with him for years because he manages to imbue queer angst into his shows in a way that resonates with me, even when he’s had missteps. I'm going to lay out some of the major highlights of his work for those who haven't followed New for years.

He was an editor on Love Sick, arguably the start of the Thai BL genre as we know it today, and a show full to the brim of queer angst. He directed Make It Right, one of my favourite Thai BL comedy series. This show was also an ensemble centered around a friendship group (though admittedly it didn’t balance the friendship and romance content as strongly as We Are), and it covers so many topics that felt refreshing at the time and still are rare (morning-after sex visits to the clinic because things went poorly, hooking up on the apps, sex acts beyond just penetration, suicidality, I could go on). He also was involved in the GMMTV Waterboyy series–this was his first work for GMMTV that I am aware of. That show had a lot of issues but did explore internalized homophobia and bullying.

He worked as a cinematographer on En of Love, which is again similar to We Are in that it has several couples connected by a friendship group (and is several novels in one series), but each couple was given its own miniseries instead of bundling them into one show. En of Love also still dealt with some serious queer angst, especially in the Love Mechanics story [Sidenote, Niink, the director for En of Love, stuck with New and moved on to work for Wabi Sabi].

At this point, New created his own company, Studio Wabi Sabi, which he's said in interviews was to gain more creative control over what he was working on. And his stories became arguably even more explicitly queer and inclusive of queer trauma. He screenwrote and produced Love By Chance (which folks may not remember or know, but that core story starts off with Pete being blackmailed for being gay until Ae convinces him to come out to his mother and shut down the leverage for blackmail, and a good chunk of Pete’s character arc is unlearning internalized homophobia and not seeing himself as ‘corrupting’ Ae) and then Until We Meet Again. The queer angst in UWMA probably doesn’t need my help spelling out, but just in case anyone doesn’t know the summary, this show was about a queer couple who committed suicide in the face of homophobia in the 1980s, and were reborn and given another chance to be together in present day. I did want to note that in both of these series (LBC and UWMA) the core romance itself has no major conflicts; both AePete and DeanPharm felt like they were intentionally side-stepping so many of the usual BL drama tropes of jealousy and misunderstandings through trust and communication. Dean and Pharm’s story took that even further by having so many of the usual drama pitfalls for a gay couple just not be a problem; their only drama comes from their past lives, in a beautiful exploration of the breaking of intergenerational trauma. So many external threats to their relationship ended up being non-starters, and this was my version of a comfort series for that reason. 

From there, New started working with GMMTV again, and directed My Gear and Your Gown. This series was, to my knowledge, the first GMMTV BL series to mention HIV and to show characters getting tested at the clinic, and while it wasn’t perfect representation (didn’t get into PrEP, treated HIV as a death sentence), it felt like an important milestone.

[I’m skipping the sequels and specials he did for series I already talked about, because they don’t feel that important to the story I’m telling here and this is already so long, but I wanted to acknowledge that I’m not covering everything in his oeuvre.]

He then directed 7 Project, which had some serious storylines dealing with bullying and struggling with life in the closet, out of Wabi Sabi, and then Star and Sky out of GMMTV. Star in My Mind included one of the main characters in a beard relationship for years, and some controversy over the adaptation choices to make Daonuea (Dunk’s character) less polite than in the books. There was drama around the pronouns and characterization in that show (both Daonuea and Khabkluen use guu/mueng in the series, but in the novel, Daonuea uses rao; he also curses in the series and novel fans complained that he was too ‘masculine’). I thought it was an interesting attempt at a departure from BL character tropes to try to make Daonuea more evenly matched with Khabkluen in terms of his gender presentation in the show. Sky in Your Heart also included some angst about whether people of a particular station could be gay. Both of these shows (SIMM and SIYH) were also very trope-y, but they had clear throughlines. 

My Only 12%, the next show New directed out of Wabi Sabi, contains one of my favourite moments in all of BL, in which Seeiw sees Love of Siam and cries because it makes him realize he’s gay. There’s this heartfelt moment where he asks his sister, if there’s nothing wrong with being gay, why doesn’t the film let the gay characters have a happy ending? Despite the weird PSA ending, this show remains one of my favourites.

This is an aside but I’ve long been fascinated about this moment in New’s history: he played himself in War of Y, as a director of BL who is sick of being forced to make BL shows full of fanservice; he treats the actors with disdain and cuts marketable high heat scenes from the show which makes everyone nervous for the show’s future. Later we see him and the actor characters on set for My Only 12%, much happier. I ask myself about this moment at least once a week: Did he write this self-insert? Did someone else write the character and he just played it, and the similarities to his style were (were not?) a coincidence? I hope someone knows and tells me one day,

From there, New functioned as an Executive Producer of Dear Doctor, I’m Coming for Soul [I think this was the first outsourced project by Wabi Sabi]. This series’ entire plot is a metaphor for living in the closet and waiting for the time when the main couple can be together fully without having to hide. 

He directed A Boss and a Babe for GMMTV (which had its problems for sure, but also had Cher as an out gay man at the workplace dealing with casual homophobia in a way that was extremely satisfying), and then Between Us, which is maybe the least queer feeling show Wabi Sabi produced on its own, but did go into the issues of dating and the closet while trying to become a star (if I’ve forgotten something from this show let me know, I only watched it the once). One of the things that was so strange about this show was it being a sequel to UWMA but not engaging with the same themes. The only mention of real world queerness I can remember was the acknowledgment that they can’t get married in Thailand and Dean and Pharm discussing again going abroad and getting married there. 

Absolute Zero was a complete mess of a show; New directed this one for Wabi Sabi, and it has some similarities to UWMA in the sense of there being an attempt at saving the gays from the bury your gays trope, this time via time loop rather than reincarnation, but it did not take the issues it raised seriously enough (including the age gap created between the two characters by virtue of time travel). 

And that leads us to We Are for GMMTV, which as Pluem (@happypotato48)  wrote in his excellent post about this, includes Toey using nu and other 'feminine' or 'youthful' sounding language, but also apparently dropped the main conflict of the novel between Phum and his father (because his father disapproved of Peem).

Why did I go through all of that? Because I wanted to lay out how I've watched New Siwaj’s career go from finding a way to tell incredibly poignant and healing queer narratives (by creating his own company, and fitting these moments into the GMMTV series he did work on) to stripping out queerness from the shows he’s creating in the last year or so.

And this is a pattern we’re seeing more widely at GMMTV in particular, but also in Thai QL more widely. This is something that was touched on but not really discussed in the most recent episode of The Conversation podcast (the 23.5 and only boo! episode here). In both 23.5 and Only Boo!, the show faked out a homophobic parent and then treated their kids like they were silly to assume the worst, and I hated that.

Both Ongsa and Kang had internalized homophobia in their respective series. Both were terrified of telling their mothers about their homosexual love interest. And in both cases, their mothers told them something along the lines of 'of course I will support you no matter what'. In Ongsa's case, even though she was outed by Sun without her consent, she's the one who ends up apologizing for her hesitancy and feeling foolish for her concern. In Kang's case, the show never challenges his mother's assertion that she'll always support him even though we know she hasn’t (she was the one who wanted to prevent him from studying art before his father died), and it’s the audience that was left feeling foolish for our concern. 

In the GMMTV round table for Pride Month, it was mentioned that the decision for Ongsa's mother to be accepting of her relationship with Sun was made in order to model good parental behaviour for the older generation in the audience. In the novel, Ongsa's mother presents a significant conflict, but this conflict was erased from the show. I don't know if the same decision was made in Only Boo! for the same reason or not, but either way, the show definitely signalled to Kang's mother having an issue with Kang's relationship with Moo, and then said "sike", which I did not enjoy. The Conversation panelists were correct in the conversation linked and transcribed above that this wasn't the most egregious misstep either show made, but it feels like a telling symptom of the larger overall narrative problems that New is also now succumbing to.

It seems as though telling stories stripped of queer conflict is being seen as progressive, and possibly also easier to sell, and this is where my anxiety lies around what this will mean for Thai QL content in future. 

For the record, I am all for creating queer content in which we envision a better world for ourselves. But when that is the goal, understanding where internalized homophobia comes from and thinking through how removing parental objection will affect the character and the story is vital to the story and characterization remaining coherent. Otherwise it just ends up feeling like the show is telling queer kids that they're paranoid, rather than rightly worried (like I wrote about in this thread on My Love Mix-Up Thailand, where the same decision was made again to fake out a homophobic subplot that was removed from the adaptation but was present in the source material).

These choices speak to adaptation choices with an eye for specific moments and story points, rather than to a narrative or character arc, which is where it feels like they fall into the wider pattern of what @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup and @ginnymoonbeam were describing in their discussion: shows caring more about hitting specific meme-able story points listed out on a whiteboard than about making cohesive sense or having something coherent to say. 

[So as not to leave it out: I don’t think there were concerns of homophobia in the Wandee Goodday novel (novel readers feel free to correct me if I’m wrong about this) but the show faked us out about homophobia concerns anyway, which again really bothered me during that watch and which adds to the pattern.] 

Now, of course, as I stated up at the top there is value in the creation of different kinds of media. These shows sell different fantasies than the ones I want to see, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have value.All of BL has some amount of fantasy that it’s buying into, that’s what comes with the territory of ‘fiction’. The BL bubble (in which homophobia doesn’t exist and all men are gay for each other) is a version that is at its most extreme; nothing bad ever happens that isn’t quickly resolved within an episode, so there is never narrative tension, and nobody really needs to be that concerned about how anything will go ever. I do not find these relaxing because I can’t buy into the fantasy they’re selling; for me, the lack of narrative tension is so unbelievable as to ruin my immersion. But I can see why that would be appealing for someone whose brain is not always on alert and running at 11/10! The problem I am anticipating is when the majority of content is made that way, and when it is done in a way that takes up all of the mainstream space. I think it’s notable that the only show that’s really felt not in the queer bubble from GMMTV in 2024 is Cooking Crush, which was done by a subsidiary team within GMMTV (and the same team went on to make Only Boo!). And this is why We Are caught my attention and made me nervous; When a director who is known for his representation of poignant queer angst makes an entire 16-hour series in which there are no significant conflicts at all and the only hint of homophobia is in Toey’s reference to being bullied prior to the timeframe of the series, I get worried about who is going to be making the queer angst shows in future!  

For the record, my personal preference for comfort shows are the shows that do not pretend the world is perfect, but do depict an idealized subset of that world→where there’s a group of people that support one another through the bullshit of others and the less than perfect world that surrounds them. Shows that teach us to be kind to one another, and ourselves. Shows that say the world is going to suck sometimes, but we can be good to one another, and not lose sight of who we are, and make space for others to be themselves. A few of my favourite Thai series that do this would be: 

Bad Buddy

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Knock Knock Boys

Miracle of Teddy Bear

My Only 12%

Secret Crush on You

To Sir With Love

Until We Meet Again

(and of course these occur in non-Thai shows as well. A few examples of my favourites: What Did You Eat Yesterday, DNA Says Love You, Light on Me, Oppan, Marahuyo Project, TsukuTabe, Tadaima Okaeri, Koisenu Futari, Joshi-teki Seikatsu, Gameboys, Hehe and He, Twilight out of Focus, She Makes My Heart Flutter)

These are shows in which there are explicitly external judgments on the relationships in the show and/or the characters for things intrinsic to who they are, and the characters build a support structure in which folks are encouraged to be themselves within that ‘bubble’ (Bad Buddy walks a fine line because it’s within the BL bubble but the problems that the main couple face are so a direct allegory that everything feels familiar; this is also the case with Tadaima Okaeri, which is both omegaverse and one of the most beautifully kind shows of all time). 

So for now, I still have the other smaller Thai studios including Kongthup Productions (who made Knock Knock Boys; we’ll see whether their latest series Monster Next Door deals with any queer angst or not), idolFactory (just finished My Marvellous Dream is You, which had a ton of queer angst, and is currently doing The Loyal Pin, which I have hope for on this front), DeeHup (currently making I Saw You In My Dream, which I’m holding out hope for) and StarHunter Entertainment (who made City of Stars, but whose record is a little spotty on this front; Their latest, Sunset Vibes, has not done a great job of handling the theme of office relationships and blackmail so far, and feels very much in the bubble) to look forward to. 

But as you can see even just by virtue of the caveats I included above, it feels like this shift is happening in the smaller companies too (harder to see a real pattern with fewer data points, which is one of the reasons why I picked on GMMTV–in addition to it being the largest media conglomerate in Thailand and therefore able to take it). Maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just an anxious person. Or maybe I’m just wrong about what would be best for the genre and for queer people in Thailand as well as viewers all over the world. But I, for one, would find it a loss if Thai QL decides en masse to pivot away from queer angst, and right now it kind of feels like that’s what it’s doing. In this context, to reiterate my original point, the existence of We Are is not a problem, but is one in a set of exemplars that raised specific alarm bells due to the people involved and their history in QL and queer representation, its deviation from the source material, and the surrounding shows that seem to indicate a pattern rather than a one-off. 

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author's Note: I write these at work and I work nightshift all alone in a little gatehouse, right? I kid you not 3 coyotes were staring at me through the door and I didn't even notice. I saw them running by on the cameras but I honestly thought it was just a group of feral cats cause they were so small.

Anyways, thank you for 300 followers!! I'm geekin' out over that! And Friday morning the last chapter will be out 😈🙏

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 5: Finishing Touches

The word excited was a vast understatement when it came to seeing you again.

Leon's heart was thrumming against his chest as he stood silently in front of your apartment door. His hand was raised up halfway, ready to knock, but a sudden wave of anxiety was holding him back. He was at your apartment. Your apartment.

The drive over was relatively short, it was closer than your workspace, yet he felt confident the entire way here. Now here he was, frozen in place, worried his knock would be too loud or make him seem desperate, even. A ridiculous thought, obviously the man knew that, but it gripped his mind nonetheless.

You must've had a sixth sense, having opened the door before he'd built up the courage to actually knock, when all reality you just recognized the sound of his motorcycle at this point. The sweet smile you gave Leon was enough to draw him into your apartment. He was quick to take his jacket off since he was sweating bullets, hanging it up on the coat rack next to your front door.

You could tell he was nervous just by how jittery he was, it was endearing yet worrisome at the same time. Seeing how worked up you made him was adorable, but at the same time you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable around you.

"Sit wherever, Mr. Kennedy. My house is yours." You placed a hand on his bicep to try and ease him, smile still remaining as you watched him survey the living room. A quiet laugh fell from his lips as he trained his eyes on you. "It's Leon, please. Making me feel real old over here..." You rolled your eyes with a playful groan. It was just a formality you'd trained yourself to respond with when it came to clients. A hard habit to break since you'd never really dated any of them before now.

With a gentle pat, you slowly turned and walked off into your admittedly small kitchen where the faint sound of boiling water could be heard. It took a few seconds before Leon decided to follow you, not totally convinced to take a seat just yet. You glanced over your shoulder at him before turning back to reach up into one of your cabinets, pulling out a couple mismatched mugs. "You like chai?" He nodded, licking his lips at the idea of something to drink.

The man could only stand awkwardly a few feet behind you and watch as you grabbed a couple tea bags from another cabinet, setting reach bag in their respective mug. An electric kettle sitting atop your counter beeped once it reached the selected temperature, prompting you to grab the handle and pour the water into the mugs.

You covered the mugs to let them steep, turning around to lean back against the edge of your counter so you could look at Leon. He looked like a lost puppy, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he took in your kitchen. With a sympathetic sigh, you pushed yourself from the counter and looped your right arm through his, leading him out of the kitchen back towards your living room. "Get comfortable, I'll bring the tea over here, okay?"

He just let you lead him over to the couch, sitting down at your request with a meek nod. He really should be more confident than this, but he was far out of practice when it came to women. The idea of messing this up for himself was terrifying.

Leon's head followed you as you walked around to the front of the couch, watching as you set the mugs on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. He rested his hands on top of his thighs, eyes now stuck to the tea placed in front of him.

"Are you feeling alright? You look like you're gonna throw up." You meant this in a joking manner, even giggling a bit as you spoke, but Leon's head jerked away from the tea to look at you, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he shook his head. "No-.. No, I'm okay, just... Can I be honest?"

That kind of question never failed to make you nervous, and he was quick to pick up on that, clearing his throat after stumbling over his words. "It's... It's been a long time since I've done anything like this. Seeing someone."

Your mouth formed a small 'o' shape at his confession before falling back to that same sweet smile that you welcomed him in with. "You're right to be nervous, Leon. But hey," you paused to scoot closer to him, ".. I've had the privilege to learn a bit of backstory from you already, and after working with a few other agents before you, I have a general idea on just how taxing that kind of job can be."

Leon tightened his lips as he listened to you, worry still plain on his face. You were right and maybe that's why he grew to like you so easily. He didn't have to explain anything since you already knew the basic gist of it all, holding a level of understanding that most other potential partners wouldn't have.

You reached in front of him to grab the mug, carefully placing it in one of his hands before reaching further to grab the other, now having him hold the mug with both hands. He kept fidgeting with his jeans, clearly needing something to hold onto.

"I won't pry, the details of your job seem pretty intense, but I want you to know that I'll never turn you away, relationship or not." You'd grabbed your own mug now, looking down as you pinched your index and thumb on the paper end to the tea bag to jostle it a bit. "You've more than earned the time you have now to just be yourself."

Leon swallowed dryly, turning his attention down to where he was holding the mug in his lap. He didn't even know he needed to hear those words, but dammit were they definitely hitting home.

"Thank you." He managed to say, voice meek and slightly scratchy from just how dry his mouth had become. "You... have a way with words?" He breathed out a chuckle to which you followed up with a laugh of your own. Despite feeling so vulnerable and awkward, he still managed to make a joke.

You closed your eyes as you brought the mug up to your lips, taking a sip of the now perfectly warm tea before opening them again to give the man next to you a smirk. "What a charmer you are, huh?"

And just like every other time the two of you had been around each other, Leon started to relax by the hour; talking more, joking more, getting closer to you, and once you both finished up the tea, he held onto your hand with his own.

He followed you around your apartment when you excitedly asked to give him a tour. It was small, a very humble one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, but to Leon it was probably the most comfortable place he'd ever been. So similar to your workplace in terms of decor, but now it was full of your more personal items.

The smell of the tea from earlier was beginning to fade, making way for the smell of just you, such a pleasant and intoxicating smell to the man.

Your bedroom was the biggest culprit so far, the two of you winding up sitting on the edge of your bed. Shamefully, he'd zoned out as you rambled on about whatever, just soaking in the feel of your comforter beneath his hands. It was soft, but definitely not as soft as your lips were.

While Leon was zoned out, his eyes had gotten stuck again, this time on your lips as they moved. You were focused somewhere else, looking forwards, not really paying attention to where he was staring. He so badly wanted to kiss you again, the last kiss didn't last nearly as long as he would've liked it to.

Leon knew his words would fail him and he wanted to act before his nerves got the better of him, leading him to moving his eyes up to yours, his hand reaching to gently hold under chin so he could turn your head to face him.

The feel of his hand caused you to pause your ramble, letting him turn your head to face him. He looked so handsome with that wanting look, his eyes flittering from your own and back down to your lips.

He seemed to know what he wanted, so you opted to just let him slowly pull you closer into a kiss, eyes closing as your lips touched his. It was a little longer than the kiss you shared the night before, but after pulling away and seeing the shy smile you had, he couldn't help but pull you right back in.

His eyebrows furrowed, hands finding their way to your back to pull you closer, one between your shoulder blades while the other on the small of your back. You arched against his touch, letting him angle you the way he wanted. Leon's hands moved to make way for his arms, biceps flexing as he tightly wrapped them around you. He had to hold on tight, fearing he would lose his little slice of heaven if he didn't.

Your lips felt amazing against his, so soft and pillowy. And god, the way your skin felt when he shifted one of his rough hands up under your shirt. He needed more, all of you.

He let out a low groan, almost a growl as he nibbled on your bottom lip before moving down to your neck. He leaned back a bit so his shoulders were resting against the head of the bed frame, managing to pull you even closer so your chest was pressed up a little higher than his, his head buried into the crook of your neck.

You breathed out a shaky breath as his hands began to wander again, still underneath your shirt. They went up and down your back, moving down to occasionally squeeze your waist. You made the prettiest sounds when he did.

Leon felt so needy, holding onto you like this, for dear life. He couldn't help it. You were his lifeline right now.

His lips trailed along the underside of your jaw and down the front of your throat, making sure to leave a trail of hickeys in their wake. He could feel you swallow and the vibrations from your moans, loving how alive you felt in his grasp.

You ran your fingers through his hair before gently tugging him away from your neck, tilting his head back ever so slightly so he was looking up at you. He was panting, breath cold against your spit-covered neck. You gave him the most endearing look, one hand trailing down to cup the side of his face. You didn't want him to worry even for a second.

"I'm not going anywhere." You whispered, running your thumb along his bottom lip before bringing him into another kiss. His grip on you loosened enough for you to carefully slide down and settle your upper half into his lap.

Leon's lip quivered as he watched you, hands trembling once you'd slid out of his grasp. Your words were comforting, but he couldn't hold onto you the way he wanted when you were down there. Though, with the way you rested your cheek against the bulge straining in his jeans, he wasn't all that worried anymore.

You watched your hand with a lazy smile as you stroked him over his jeans, both arms resting on his thighs to keep them spread apart. Leon needed love and care and you were more than willing to help him make up for the lost time.

After unbuckling his belt and pulling it off, you unzipped his jeans, sitting up to pull them down in the front. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, silently asking for permission to which he eagerly nodded his head. He even reached his hands down to help, but you swatted them away.

"Let me take care of you..." Carefully, you pulled the front end of his boxers down far enough for his cock to spring out and then up against his stomach, already leaking precum. Leon groaned as the cool air hit it, causing his hips to jerk up a bit.

You didn't want to tease the poor man, so you reached your hand up and gripped the base, pulling it upright and to the side slightly. You stroked him languidly before placing a gentle kiss against the shaft. He whined, his legs now starting to shiver from the adrenaline.

Leon never could've imagined he'd get this far with you tonight, let alone get to watch you stroke his dick while giving it kisses and little kitten licks. A pitiful moan was pulled from him when you wrapped your lips around the tip to suck, your hand now stroking him faster.

You were so careful with him, focusing on his pleasure, having even stopped a couple times to make sure he was feeling good and also just to tell him how good he was doing.

With his cock now deep in your throat, tears were streaming down his face, small sobs falling from his lips as you bobbed your head up and down. It was all so much; the smell of your bedding, the feeling your mouth wrapped around him, the sound of his own weak little cries hitting his ears.

"I'm-.. God I'm sorry- I-" He spoke breathlessly through the moans and sobs, hands fisted into your comforter as he began to worry he'd chase you away. You pulled your mouth off of him, hand moving from holding the base to stroking him again. "You're doing such a good job, Leon. Just let go for me.." With your hushed words, you quickly put your mouth back around him, going right back to deepthroating him.

His orgasm surfaced fast, throwing his head back with a high pitched whine as he all so suddenly came down your throat. After pulling away, you gave the tip of his cock a gentle kiss before tucking it back into his boxers for him, staring up at him while running your hand along his thigh.

It was hard for him to look down at you, his head feeling heavy. A few small tears fell here and there, but now he was able to give you a tired smile. "Was that alright?" You asked him again, voice raspy from deepthroating the man.

Leon huffed out through his nose, smile widening as he quickly sat up, reached down, and pulled you up so your chest was pressed against his again. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly once more before burying his face into your neck.

It would've taken years for him to open up like that with anyone else, but it was different with you. You already knew, you understood, you were patient with him.

You made him feel weak in the best way possible. For once in his life he didn't need to be that strong, stone-cold agent who didn't bat an eye at death. With you, he could be soft.

It only took a few more sessions for Leon's portrait to be finished. All that needed to get done was some finishing touches since little things tend to get smudged along the way. All a part of the process.

Unfortunately for Leon, you didn't let him see the final product, blocking his every attempt to see it while saying something about "You don't get to see the bride before the wedding!" Whatever that meant.

When you told him it would take about two months to dry, he turned into the biggest man-child you've ever seen. Leon was just as bad as Chris in that sense, only difference being Claire was there to help contain Chris when he tried to see their portrait. Now you were left to deal with Leon's shenanigans all on your own.

No matter how much he begged and pleaded, you didn't relent. Hell, you even chased him out of the building with a dirty paintbrush. Two months was too long to wait for something like that. You were basically torturing him.

Luckily for you and him, it was easy to distract the man with the promise of a comfortable night at your apartment with some takeout. Afterwards, he really only ever asked about the portrait when he saw you working on something else. By now you'd hidden the painting away from his prying mind to give it time to dry. Out of sight, out of mind.

In the meantime, you would sketch him at random; while he was sitting on your couch, with his glasses on, naked on the bed posing for you "like one of your french girls", which was pretty funny yet surprisingly helpful. It had been a long time since you had the chance to draw a nude model, and what better than the ex-agent you'd grown so fond of?

Now it was just a matter of playing the waiting game. Leon's portrait was made to be extra special, secretly working on it while he was sleeping or off at the gym. Sure it prolonged the drying process, but you can't rush perfection in the end.

tags!: @greywardensaywhat @xkittiecatx @httpsuguru @k-fallingstar @lysa1201 @bobastayhigh @pocketstoriesstore @agent-dessis-posts @klee-iii @missjoenowhere @bbjposay @lazuliglace @bigtiddiesimp @finsternisle @sweets3rial @sodacolablast (there's a few of you that tumblr wouldn't let me tag for some reason 😭)

[vrystalius]

Hihi! Firstly, I love your writings. For English not being your first language, I would not have guessed. Your English is brilliantly used and translated throughout. Secondly, I did have an ask, but I do want to put it out there that I am only now finishing the Hashira Training Arc. (Also, thank you for the heads up on the Sanemi post about it being after Infinity Castle...I have it marked to read after I get through that Arc :D ). Okay, so actual ask: Ahem, could I possibly ask/somehow con you into doing a short or head cannon with either Sanemi or Kyojuro having an s/o with confidence anxieties; like a family that always told them they would never be good enough kind of thing? If this is a no, no worries. It's kind of darker so I get it but I was just curious. Thank you for your works and your time. I look forward to reading your new things as they come :)

❔Confidence issues

You have don’t have enough confidence to become a swordsman. What does your S/O think?

Note: Thank you so much for requesting and liking my works! Compliments like these really make my day <3 I hope you don’t mind that I added Yorichii. You didn’t tell me about kind of confidence anxieties you’d like me to write about, so wrote it about becoming a swordsman against your family’s wishes and them disapproving heavily. I hope you enjoy anyway!

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Yorichii x gn!reader

(Heavy Spoilers for Yorichii’s backstory in Yorichii’s part)

💚 Sanemi Shinazugawa 💚

What? You don’t have the confidence to become a demon slayer? Seriously? You’re one of the most talented slayer- no- person Sanemi ever met! And you dare to doubt your own abilities? C’mon now.

“The fuck are you even talking about? Are you serious right now?”

Sanemi is feeling a mix of utter confusion and anger towards you for being insecure. He’s seriously baffled at where you even got the idea of from. Whatever you did amazed him: your fighting, your clothes (even if you are wearing the uniform, it just fits you much better than anyone else), your breathing style, your hobby, the way you walked or even talked to him, in his eyes you are beautiful and amazing.

He’d confront you about it. Where’d you get this idea even from? But after finding out that your insecurities mainly were because of your family’s nagging and disapproval, Sanemi got furious. You’ll need to either talk him out of beating your relative’s ass or hold him back by tackling him to the ground and THEN talk him out of it.

Now, from this day on, Sanemi will try his best to make you more confident in yourself. In his eyes, you are the most perfect and talented person. Sanemi feels like he should the one who should feel insecure. You’re so patient and understanding with him and you manage to calm him down by just simply touching his arm, it’s almost embarrassing. You are so absolutely gorgeous to him in every way. He feels like he doesn’t deserve you in any way.

Sanemi is not the biggest fan of you wanting to join the Demon Slayer Corps, but he’ll encourage you to keep training and fighting anyway. He’ll make time in his day to train you personally and to spar with you, making sure to point out your improvement.

“Hey, you’re even faster than yesterday! Keep this up and you’ll beat my ass in no time! You’re doing great.”

❤️‍🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku ❤️‍🔥

You’re so funny! You? Not confident in your skills or talents? Hahaha!

…

Wait. You’re not joking?

“But my flame, what made you think that? You’re almost as strong as the other hashira!”

Kyojuro’s first reaction was to laugh at your face. Surely you were joking! Your breathing technique is controlled and powerful and your slashing is accurate and swift. If you’d receive proper hashira training, you’ll be on his level in no time! Demons will sense your presence from a mile away!

But after seeing how your face faded into frown, Kyojuro silenced himself immediately. He apologises loudly and bowed to you. You are so talented and powerful, he seriously thought you were joking! What made you think like this in the first place? Did someone upset you? If so, he’d need a word with them!

After finding out your insecurity stems mainly from your family, he’ll suggest to speak to them. Kyojuro believes he can teach them wrong by pointing every single perfect thing about you. But if he did, he’d be there all day and night.

But if that’s not what you want, he’d totally understand. Kyojuro would then continue point everything perfect and talented about out to you instead! You need to see yourself from his perspective! You are good enough, you are loved and you are talented!

And he did so until you had to physically stop him with either a kiss or shoving food into his mouth.

Kyojuro means well. He wants you to see yourself the way he sees you: his talented, amazing and beautiful partner. From this day on, he’ll make sure to compliment you every day and on whatever you are doing. Even if it’s a little silly.

“Your kisses are especially tender today! Your affections set my heart ablaze, my flame!”

Bonus:

☀️ Yorichii Tsugikuni ☀️

Yorichii understands where you are coming from. He feels the exact same way, since his father beat it into his skull every day: He’s a failure, shouldn’t have been born and that he should’ve killed him at birth, regardless about how much his mother protested.

He is incredibly self-doubting and insecure himself, wich only increased after loosing Uta so brutally and his brother to Muzan’s luring. He is a person not worth remembering and not worth of being called a demon slayer, perhaps not even worth living. So it surprised him that you expressed similar insecurities.

“My sun, you are a very capable slayer. If not for you, we wouldn’t have beheaded this many demons together, and I surely would’ve struggled on my own.”

Yorichii would talk to you about your insecurities. Why do you feel this way? What made you think this? How can he show that you are wrong?

All of the sudden you tell him that him being such a strong slayer, in addition to your family’s behaviour and words, made you so insecure. Yorichii feels terrible for being partly responsible of making you feel even more insecure.

Yorichii a very quiet man, preferring to listen rather to talk. But for you, he’ll try to speak up more. The way you just swung your sword at the demon, that was excellent sword-handling. Your foot movement you did back there was very impressive, he should learn from you. Your cooking is excellent, this is now his new favourite dish. Your craftsmanship, no matter if you sketch, write or whatever, looks very well made and beautiful.

“You look very beautiful today, my light. Could you show me your stance from yesterday? I’d like to learn from you.”

💠

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed. I would also like to credit my cat as a co-author.

My masterlist for the hashira.

My masterlist for the demons.

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

[demonicchicken1121]

Alastor, Rosie, and Cannibal Town: an Analysis (I’m fucking at it (Alastor Posting) again)

Ok I know that a lot of people have already been talking about this, but I really want to analyze Alastors behavior in cannibal town and how it’s so much different than how he behaves literally anywhere else.

Alastors true motives, personality, opinions, etc are widely debated in the fandom. Does he actually care about Charlie or the hotel? What’s his beef with Lucifer? Why did he make a deal and who was it with? Al is such a mysterious and closed off character, and his demeanor changes so frequently that no one in or out of universe really knows much about him. I personally think that the closest we get to seeing Alastor in his truest and most authentic self is when he’s in cannibal town.

From the moment they arrive, Alastors demeanor changes dramatically, even from a few moments before, when Charlie was venting about her relationship issues. He seems genuinely excited to be there and see Rosie, to the point where he seems to forget he brought Charlie here for a reason (hell I think he forgets Charlie is even there at a few points.)

Al and Rosie HAVE seen each other since he returned to hell, at the overlord meeting, but they didn’t really have the time to interact. Even so, they are so in tune with each other. This man was gone for seven years and here they are gaslight gatekeep girlbossing like nothing happened.

But once they actually have the opportunity to interact outside of the overlord meeting they’re super excited to catch up. The only other time he shows this much enthusiasm to see someone is with Mimzy, but things quickly goes south when she puts the hotel is danger. Alastors friendship with mimzy feels very onesided, and it seems that she only shows up when she needs something. While Alastor and Rosie clearly ask each other for favors, it feels a lot more equal in a way where they each get an equal amount of benefit.

And while we haven’t seen much of them yet, I get the vibe that they hang out in their free time and respect each others boundaries and schedules. I think Al went through cannibal town hoping to see her in the prequel comic, but figured she was busy after the extermination and instead asked some of the residents to say hello on his behalf. But that’s just a theory, a gam-

Also just a little thing I noticed, when rosie is joking about Charlie being too young for Alastor, Charlie looks visibly annoyed, but Alastors body language and expression don’t change. He tends to react relatively strongly when anyone (Angel) makes a move on him or assumes he’s dating anyone, but I think he knows Rosie well enough to know she’s joking.

Alastor lets his guard down so much in this part of the episode. He’s really in his element and his behavior seems so natural and genuine.

I love how he’s so willing to just roast Susan. Every iconic duo has that one person they fucking hate and will not be subtle about how much they fucking hate them. It’s especially funny with alastor, who’s usually really pretentious and passive aggressive when he insults someone, but with Susan it’s just

“✨Ornery old bitch?✨” also this is the only time in the entire series that alastor swears in a genuinely humorous way. In almost every other example, he is trying to intimidate someone or piss them off, and also when his staff was broken.

And speaking of his staff, I think it was actually a big deal that Alastor let Charlie use it, even tho it was for a very short time. This does show that whether or not he actually cares about her, Alastor does have a certain amount of trust and respect for Charlie. Despite that, I don’t think he would have done this if he wasn’t in cannibal town and with Rosie. The staff is clearly very important to him and likely holds some amount of his power, given how he reacted when it was broken.

As weird as this sentence is out of context, I think Alastor feels very safe in cannibal down. Rosie and probably the other cannibals genuinely like and respect him. it speaks volumes that not only he let Charlie use his staff, but he put himself in the position that would leave him vulnerable to Rosie if Charlie were to turn on him. While he knows it’s highly unlikely that would happen, I think it’s still worth noting that he intentionally left himself in such a vulnerable position in cannibal town and nowhere else.

Something else interesting I noticed, is that “ready for this” is one of the only songs that Alastor is interacting with another character, and isn’t competing for the spotlight. He is walking all over Vox in “stayed gone”, and getting walked all over by Lucifer in “Hells greatest dad”, but here, he’s very in tune with everyone else. He and Rosie are on equal footing and he feels secure enough to fade into the background a bit, harmonizing with the cannibals and letting Charlie take the lead.

So yeah, I feel like Cannibal town is alastors home in hell. His relationship with Rosie is probably the most positive relationship he has in the whole show. I think viv has mentioned that Alastor wasn’t a cannibal before he died, and I’m not sure if that’s still canon, but if it is, I can definitely see him becoming a cannibal when he became friends with Rosie. I can also see Rosie being one of his first friends in hell, maybe they even rose to power together. I’m clearly getting into some more speculative headcanons because I do what I want, but I’m putting them in their own section.

Now for headcanons with little to no substantial evidence ✨✨✨

I do actually really like the idea that they became friends very quickly and rose to power together. I like the idea that they were friends before Alastor became this super powerful force in hell. It also makes sense that he would trust someone who wanted to be his friend back when people weren’t constantly asking for favors or testing his power. Bc I do think that there was a short period of time between him arriving in hell and rising to power. (I have a lot of ideas about how he got his powers which probably will get its own post, but to brief, he wasn’t super powerful when he arrived in hell.) it makes sense that him and Rosie would have become friends in that period.

When he did start rising to power, I think Rosie would have guided him, given that he was a relatively new sinner. She would help him find overlords to target, possibly even letting him recruit cannibals to help him take them down. After he was finished broadcasting their screams, he would return their bodies to Rosie for her to sell. Maybe any cannibals who helped him would get discounts or first pickings.

This makes sense to me bc not only would it help explain why Alastor has never seen Rosie as a rival or a target, but also it would help explain why they’re so close. Nothing builds a friendship better than overthrowing incredible forces of power. Also they totally square dance on the weekends.

Viv please I need an episode that’s nothing but these two dicking around in cannibal town for twenty minutes.

[pain-in-the-butler]

what are your favourite black butler fanfics?

Hello! Though I've made a post on my favorite Dadbastian fics, I suppose I haven't done one on my favorite Kuro fics overall. Some from the previous list will be included regardless, and also I won't be including unfinished fics here.

ad perpetuam memoriam by redrobin1989 I linked this in the previous post, despite not being an actual Dadbastian fic, strictly because it's just that good. Around 130 years after Ciel Phantomhive's death, a couple of students begin to uncover the history of who he really was. And they aren't the only ones interested in his name's revival...

bottom of the deep blue sea by sunflowergiorno I can't laud this fic enough. It perfectly encapsulates the angst and sweetness combo I so love in a Dadbastian fic yet so rarely find. Takes place during the Campania rescue on the trip back to England. The way Francis is written is the cherry on top.

Everything's So Green! by Cr4shjay Some heartwarming fluff by my friend and the editor for Coattails, Jay! A sweet story about bonding between the Phantomhive servants early on in Bard's career. Wah!

Front Page News by TheArchaeologist Another I included on my previous list, though it's not really about Dadbastian, having more to do with the servants finding out about the Campania sinking and their fears as they wait to see if Sebastian and Ciel are coming home safely, let alone at all. Mey-Rin's perspective is lovely.

His Highness, Comparative by three-sixtynine-hexose I don't often read fics that are about season two, but this take on the relationship between Alois and Claude is far better than the canon. This is not a lighthearted romp but a poignant and bittersweet look inside the head of a kid desperate for affection, whose designated caretaker is basically an emotional brick wall.

Jurassic Butler: The Butler, the Butler, and the Dinosaur by Cherumie Okay, obviously this one is a humor fic, and it's mainly going to be enjoyable to people who are familiar with Phantom & Ghost, but how could I not recommend it. I got my start in writing fanfic with parody, a genre that you hardly see explored anymore in this fandom, so I have to give it some props.

Sensorium by othercat A short but sweet read that I linked in my previous post. Explores the early contract days in a way that I think is more realistic, showing that Sebastian needed to reintroduce Ciel to his own humanity before he could possibly hope to cultivate his soul.

Singing in the Silence by Kimberly_T A fantastic Phantomfam story about the servants learning how to keep their young master safe "from any and all enemies… even enemies they can't actually see." Absolutely heartwarming. Mey-Rin's appreciation for music in Coattails is actually a small nod to this fic.

The Boy Who Called Down a Ghost by ivoryandhorn Probably the most unusual entry on here and not for everyone, but I remember being intrigued by this fic's unique voice. A rewrite of the contract scene if it took place in a cyberpunk future.

This might not be the list that you were expecting — I actually have some relatively specific tastes and it's not often I find something that suits them. But I hope that this can give you some more material to read as we wait for the manga to return! Thanks for reaching out!

[sirfrogsworth]

I posted the below on my Facebook. I am secretly trying to head things off at the pass. Every time people see pictures of me out and about, they think I have been magically cured or my health status has improved. And I know going to Florida is going to give people that impression.

But also, I just wish a few of my relatives could understand my situation better. And why I didn't come to Christmas. And why I might try to come to Christmas now.

I guess I'll see how this goes.

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

One of the biggest struggles I've had my entire adult life is explaining why I appear fine whenever people see me. I say I am very sick and bed-bound and then they see me and I am out of bed and talking and joking and... a normal healthy person.

What many don't realize is I am making a choice.

A choice to get sick.

I can use up all my energy in a short time frame to accomplish a difficult chore or entertain a friend or go to a doctor, but that is going to have a consequence.

The more I do, the more severe the consequence.

In the ME/CFS world this is called "post-exertional malaise." (for those interested, you can read more about it here: https://rthm.com/art.../what-is-post-exertional-malaise-pem/ )

Imagine every time you wanted to do something, you were *choosing* to get the flu.

Take a walk, get the flu.

Exercise, get the flu.

Spend a night out with friends, get the flu.

And you might be thinking, "Okay, it can't be as bad as the flu. I've had the flu and the flu sucks. No one would choose that."

I may not get the nasty respiratory symptoms, but everything else is pretty much the same. Crippling fatigue, horrible aches, and the loss of the will to do much of anything. Sometimes it is much worse than the flu. Some people don't know how much being this exhausted can hurt. They have never used up enough energy that their body is unable to power itself properly. I usually say it is like every cell in my body is starving and screaming for energy. I feel it in every inch of my body—and not just on the surface... through and through. So, like... cubic inches.

Sometimes I don't even have the energy to power my legs. Trying to stand feels exactly the same as trying to lift a barbell with way more weight than you can lift. I can't get upstairs or even walk to the kitchen. It's a concentrated misery that defies description, despite my constant attempts to try.

Sometimes I get lucky and this flu lasts for a day or two. But the more active I am, the longer it can last. And the severity increases as well. There is also a cumulative version of this—where if I do a bunch of little things over a longer period of time, eventually it will catch up to me and I may be stuck in bed for a few weeks.

And when I say "stuck in bed" I mean stuck in bed.

Short trips to the bathroom and a few minutes in the kitchen to make food. If I spend too much time upright, my legs will literally give out and I will be stuck on the floor until I recharge enough energy to get up again. It would be like every time you needed to get up, you had to hold your breath. Not to mention, the more I do, the longer the recovery will take.

For a long time I chose to never get the flu. I stayed in bed and did just enough to avoid the worst of PEM. I skipped family get-togethers. I didn't see my friends. And I lived my life inside the computer. Some may find that sad, but I actually found a way to make this work. I ran a successful blog that was seen by millions of people and I met my two best friends who I now consider my new family.

One thing that allowed me to choose not to get the flu was my parents. I fear some thought they were spoiling me. They did my laundry. They helped clean my room. They got my groceries. They cooked my food. They took on any chore they could so I could avoid the flu and live some semblance of a life on my computer. There is a lot of guilt wrapped up in that. I didn't ask them to do that. They just sort of... did. And I am so grateful to them.

To be fair, they would have to do these chores for themselves anyway, and tacking on my stuff wasn't a huge deal. But I know it caused them a little extra pain and a few post exertional consequences of their own. So I appreciated that sacrifice more than I can put into words.

But then they both got very sick. And not only could they not help me with my stuff, I had to help them with their stuff. And this was a difficult transition. I had to choose to get the flu to take care of my parents, but then if I got the flu, and I couldn't take care of my parents. I believe this is called a catch-22.

My initial solution was to just not take care of myself. At all. My health and mental well-being was set aside and I just gave all of my energy to them. I didn't shower. I forgot to take important medicines. I didn't do a single thing that brought me joy. And I'm reminded of that analogy of the airplane emergency where the oxygen masks drop. You put on your mask first before you put one on your child. Your instinct is to save them first at all costs. But if you pass out, they are screwed.

So I kept getting that cumulative version of the flu. I'd help them as much as I could for a week or a month and then I'd be useless to them for just as long. Living in the basement did not help. Stairs were very hard for me and constantly going up and down was a huge waste of energy.

And I'm sad to say, the level of care I gave to my mom was not great. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't understand how to balance my needs with hers. And it led to costly mistakes. She had several preventable falls that caused injuries. At one point she spent hours on the floor because I fell asleep and did not check on her. When you know someone needs regular supervision, you need to synchronize sleepy time.

Thankfully I learned from all of these lessons. Maybe not as quickly as I would have liked, but I did figure it out. I just wish I had learned them before my mom passed. I just wasn't able to give her the help she needed.

And you can tell me "you did your best" all you like, but this isn't a guilt I am choosing. It's just there and I feel it no matter what anyone says. In time I am hoping it will get lighter, but I'm afraid it cannot be wiped away with a well-intentioned platitude.

But with my dad, I decided to move upstairs. That was something I should have done much sooner. But I liked having my personal space and that was hard to give up. When he slept, I slept. When he spent 4 hours at dialysis 3x per week, I would make sure to take care of any personal needs. I would do chores a tiny bit at a time. 5 minutes here, 5 minutes there. And then I would lay on the couch in between and regain my strength. I did everything possible to not get the flu. And I got my flu shots so I wouldn't get the actual flu. (Get your flu shot! 50K die from it every year!) The only hitch in my plan was when I got a kidney stone at the same time my dad was in rehab. I have no idea how I got us through that.

I was very proud of the care I was able to give my dad. And I'm so grateful I was able to pay back just a tiny bit of what my parents did to help me. And the care I gave my father is the only thing that helps me feel better about my failures with my mom.

But now I am entering a new chapter of my life. And I find myself choosing to get the flu more often. I have decided sometimes it is worth the consequences. Part of that is because I am more used to it after dealing with it for 20 years. I have coping mechanisms and procedures and techniques to manage the symptoms. It doesn't make them suck any less, but it definitely makes it more manageable. It's akin to people with chronic pain who still feel the pain just as profoundly as when it was new, but they get so used to it that they forget that isn't how they are supposed to feel.

I approached this scientifically. I did tests. I went to the movies. I tried once a week and that was too much. Then I scaled it back and that was more manageable. Then I realized I had movies at home and decided to end that experiment.

I started to put my energy into something I enjoyed more. My photography. So I have been finding new ways to take pictures again. More experiments. I'm designing a simpler studio that requires much less energy. I'm creating a little product photography workstation where I don't have to set up everything each time I want to take a cool picture of an object. It will just be "turn on the lights" and "take the pictures."

Figuring all of this out made me realize how much I missed photography. And since I have been shooting test pictures here and there, my mental health has been noticeably better. And once I get this all figured out and set up, I am hoping some of you will let me take your photo. Or a photo of your kid. Or a pet. Whatever you have that needs photographing, I'm game.

I'm not going to charge. It's not going to be a business. I do not have the energy to "hustle." And asking people for money just sucked all of the fun out of my beloved art form. It corrupted it. I just love taking pictures and if you need a photo, I'd like to do that for you. I also restore old photos for fun. I'll talk about all of this more in another post when I am ready to start.

And then my grand experiment is coming next week.

I am going to travel.

I am going to see my best friend in Florida for two days. Two days of travel and two days of visiting. This is a scary choice. I know the aftermath is going to be difficult. But I need to get out of this house. I need to see my chosen family in person. And I have never been on a plane and I love the perspective from high places. I know people hate air travel, but for me, looking out that viewport is stunning television that cannot be matched.

Purposely making myself sick sounds like a bad idea. But it isn't life threatening. I have the free time to recover as long as I need to. And I can always choose not to get sick for a while if it gets too hard.

I just ask that people not see this as going from a worse life to a better one. I was really proud of the life I was able to create for myself while staying in bed. That took a long time to figure out. I met some of my favorite people. And I accomplished things I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams. Please do not shit on that life and think it was sad or meaningless. I was given that life as a gift from my parents and it kept me alive. It has always been a huge insult when people pitied that precious gift they gave me.

This is not a better life that I am trying to figure out. It is just better for me right now. My needs have changed. I have changed. So I am trying to adapt. I just ask that people understand when I go out and do something, please remember the choice I am making.

You may be tempted to say, "You are doing so much better!" I am not any better than I was 10 years ago. Actually, my health has degraded. It's just that before I didn't think getting the flu every time I did something was worth it. And I would hope everyone would understand that was a valid choice.

And now I am inviting those consequences.

On purpose.

Give me the flu, I guess.

[fletchingbrilliant]

🌙some wildly cheap commissions!🌙

🙃 for some even wilder reasons 🙃

hey y'all. long post thingie but it's got cute pictures so please check it out

TRANSCRIPT OF POST

hey frens got something kinda somber to talk about. most of you are very aware of the existence of my beautiful fiance and co-creator of basically everything i do. zae and i are getting handfasted (marriage for pagans) in october, and have been living together for about 10 years. in 2021, zae got really fucking sick, and after a few false starts, was diagnosed with a rare for of vasculitis called granulomatosis with polyangiitis, GPA for short. it’s an autoimmune disease that causes inflammation in blood vessels and other tissues, ultimately stopping blood from getting to the parts of the body that need it, affecting many areas, but primarily the respiratory system. while the cause isn’t known, it usually presents in people in their 50’s or 60’s, but complications from a third bout of covid-19 appears to have made it emerge way earlier for our boy. at least, that’s what we think. his case is extremely aggressive, advancing faster than anyone could have expected. in zae’s case, it actually attacked his kidneys first, and then went after his lungs, causing both to threaten shutting down for good. he was extremely anemic and needed a ton of transfusions, narrowly avoiding dialysis, and we spent weeks in the hospital keeping him alive. he was placed on two different kinds of chemotherapy to combat the disorder. he lost his hair, went through even more fatigue and pain on top of what the disease had already put him through, and had to accept a plethora of changes to his life that will last forever. a lot of you out there have harrowing experiences of your own when it comes to chronic and potentially terminal conditions, too, I’m certain. “it’s not fun” is an understatement. though there were a couple of really fucking close calls, zae’s GPA went into remission. his hair grew back fuller and more luscious than it had ever been before. (i later learned these are affectionately referred to as “chemo curls.”) remission for gpa is usually expected to last at least 5 years, potentially up to 20, before any symptoms resurface. but zae’s case was particularly aggressive, so of course he’s not so lucky. he’s relapsing now. his symptoms have been slowly returning, and it’s been decided that he’s going back on chemo. it’s no surprise that this shit is expensive, even with insurance. we’re still paying off the care he received last time because ‘murca. being disabled myself, work has been… let’s call it inconsistent, yeah? yeah, that’s a nice and comfortable thing to call it. no one’s doing well financially these days, so we of course have to get creative. long story short(er), i’m doing a commission special! for the next MONTH, i am offering fast commissions at crazy-low prices to try and help us create a cushion to keep us afloat and relatively comfortable while we begin the chemo process again. there’s several options for a variety of budgets, because i really hate the idea of seeking something for nothing, and i absolutely abhor having to reach out in this way. it makes me feel vulnerable and icky and… i’m sure you all understand that, too. i can’t thank you all enough just for following me, and engaging with mine and zae’s work. it may sound trite, but that really makes a difference to us, especially when we’re dealing with something so painful. so if you can’t or don’t want to partake of the sale, please know that you are still a huge help to us, and we seriously appreciate each and every one of you. like, so fucking much. thanks y’all love, fletch

END TRANSCRIPT

Commission Options:

Flash Sketches: $5USD/character

Comics: $5USD/panel - flat color

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all of this is posted with @zaebeecee's knowledge and blessing

please DM me if you're interested in something, and thank you again

more Hungry Games, fic fanart, and Persona stuff coming soon too

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part six

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary:  you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret. 

Warnings: mentions of death, drinking

Word Count: ~5k 

A/N: here we go! I’m curious, would y’all prefer short chapters and more frequent updates? or keeping them around the same lengths?

series masterlist 

Three weeks passed since the two of you left for Caraverre for the last time, and today they received the letter telling them you’d arrive a week from now. The month was spent eagerly awaiting your arrival. 

You’d written a post note; 

Ceri found a kitten, and she’s coming with us. I asked if she was certain about keeping her, and was hissed at twice.

“You’ll need to make a new friend,” she told Fleetfoot, currently dozing at her feet. He was about ten years old now, and not quite slowing down, but not as energetic as he was several years ago. Lazily lifting his head, he opened one eye, before laying back down, tucking his head between his paws. He didn’t have the best track record with cats, but hopefully the new kitten would be an exception. Or at least confident enough to stand up for herself. 

“Another friend?” Rowan asked, door closing behind him. She handed him the letter. 

“A cat,” he looked at Fleetfoot, then at her. 

Aelin shrugged, “she’ll keep the mice away.” 

“When she’s here,” he pointed out. 

“Wherever she is.” 

He couldn’t argue with that. Preemptively, they’d looked into a few different places the two of you could live - even if they hated every second of it. If they could at least sniff out the safest areas, they’d feel a bit better. Then, just make some subtle nudges. Would you let them participate in house hunting? 

-

“How long do we have to stay at the castle?” 

“Until we find a home.” 

“When will that be?” 

“After we find one.” 

A groan of frustration, “How long does that take?” 

“It could be days or weeks.” 

She didn’t look pleased with the answer, but that was the truth. As far as homes went, you’d be relatively picky. Maybe a tad more than relatively. There was a running list in your mind. 

High exposure to magic in the past. 

Enough space for Ceri to have her chickens, not enough space for a Wyvern.

Walking distance from the city. 

The criteria was high, but you hoped something would come around quickly. You were eager to create a home base in Orynth, to establish a safe place, a place that belonged to both of you. A castle could be a home, you supposed, but not for you. You’d never feel like you belonged there. 

You meant what you said to Fenrys. You were never born to live in a castle, and as of now, you had no desire to. That’s something you couldn’t picture changing over the years. 

Another thing you didn’t expect was Ceri being this adamant against living in the castle. 

Scanning the cramped interior of the carriage, you saw Ceri still wrapped up in another dragon book - but her eyes were starting to droop. You let a small smile curve on your face, gazing out the frost-covered window. A few more hours, and you’d be passing the gates of Orynth. 

Breathe, you reminded yourself, and watched as your breath condensed in front of you. Gods it was cold, both of you bundled up as much as you could. Still, better than being outside. 

A soft snore, and Ceri was sleeping, body laid out across the bench, mitten covered hands still wrapped around the book, now clutched to her chest. It was a miracle she could read with those on. Quietly standing, you lifted the bench beneath you, dragging out a warm quilt, and tucking it around her shoulders. It’s likely she’d sleep all the way to the gates, if not to the castle door.

Even with the relative safety, you never slept on your trips if you could help it, catching just a few hours as needed. A small shield covered the cabin the entire journey, and after the driver said they were comfortable with the magic, you let it cover them as well. At least it managed to keep out some of the cold. 

Soon enough, you passed through the city gates, then - the Castle loomed ahead of you. The carriage halted in front of the gates, a guard peered in through the window shooting a smile your way and waving you inside without another question. 

You’d met him the last time you were here, and wished you’d at least remembered his name. You made a note to ask later. You were reluctant to wake Ceri, with her looking so peaceful, but you did, gently squeezing her shoulder.

“We’re here.” 

She perked up, throwing the blanket off her, face pressed against the window. One hand swiped away the condensation, wiping again as her breath fogged the window. She wasn’t this excited earlier, pestering you about how long you’d have to be here. It was easy to figure out why, peeking over her to get your own look out the window. Three of her friends were waiting there, a good distance away from Rowan and Aelin, but you could spot them. 

Your heart warmed. 

“Make sure you at least say hello to your father,” you reminded her. She sent you an offended look, and you only raised your brows. 

-

Rowan watched as Ceri jumped out of the carriage, her gaze going to his right. He knew exactly who was waiting for her over there. But, you shot her another look, and instead she sprinted right to you and Aelin, barreling into him. 

He’d gotten used to that, to her throwing her entire body weight into him. The first time it caught him off guard. She was stronger than any ten year old had a right to be. He shouldn’t have been surprised, you used to do that when they met up, flinging yourself into his arms. 

At a slower pace, you followed behind her. 

Ceri hugged Aelin, and bounced on her feet, eyes darting behind them. Where he knew three other children were waiting, a respectful distance away. 

“Go say hello to your friends,” he told her and she shot off without another word. 

Aelin wrapped you into a warm hug, squeezing until you let out an oof, complaining you couldn’t breathe. 

You stiffened as Rowan wrapped his own arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side. Had he never done that? It felt .. natural, he almost released you - momentary panic setting in that he might’ve made you feel uncomfortable, but you wrapped your arm around his waist, giving a quick squeeze back before stepping away. Nothing seemed tense or on edge, in fact you still looked perfectly relaxed. Thank the Gods. 

Aelin linked her arm through yours, talking about the book you’d mentioned in your most recent letter. As soon as you scribbled in a line about it, that Aelin might like it, she set out to find it. Three bookstores in Orynth later, Aelin had located it and devoured it in two days. 

Gods, he’d even found her reading it in the bath. 

“I should send this to Dorian,” she announced. After closing the book, in a daze for ten minutes before she finally spoke. Rowan learned the hard way not to interrupt that phase. 

“A trashy romance novel?” 

“It is not,” Aelin hissed. 

“So I didn’t find you in the bath …” Wind suffocated the fiery dagger thrown his way. 

“Scandalizing the King of Adarlan is always amusing.”

“Does he even read them?” 

Aelin shrugged. 

-

Aelin and Rowan weren’t quite as subtle as they thought they were. They’d obviously done some research and snooping on houses before the two of you arrived, and you found it endearing and helpful. 

“What do you think about this area?” Aelin traced her finger over a spot on the map. 

“I haven’t exactly seen it,” you shot her a smile. “Tell me about it.” 

A moment of shock, but she did tell you everything she knew. Neighbors close enough you could vaguely see them, but not hear them. That’s a plus in your book. Most of the surrounding neighbors already planted a few gardens. A few houses were up for sale, the owners eager to get rid of them. Apparently there’d been a big push to move into the city, into the hustle of people. It’s still close enough to the city, within walking distance of a few schools. 

You noticed that although it’s on the outskirts of Orynth, it’s located closer to the castle. It makes sense, considering Ceri will still be spending plenty of time there. 

“We should go take a look around.” 

Aelin’s eyes lit up. You liked that. 

“Tomorrow?” She offered. 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Are we inviting Rowan?” 

That, you didn’t know how to answer. “I’ll leave it up to your discretion.” 

Turquoise eyes fixed on you, and it took everything not to break her stare. “A girls trip sounds nice.” You tried not to let out a huge sigh of relief. “Besides, he’ll likely terrify everyone we come across.” 

You offered a half-smile, your sentiments were the same. That might be pushing a line. Lines you were very careful to balance. Gods, you’d practically made neutrality an art form over the years. 

-

You bundled up, pushing a pair of mittens into a protesting Ceri’s hands. 

“Do you want frostbite?” You kept the exasperation out of your voice. She snatched them from you, shoving them onto her hands, as you wound a scarf around her neck. It wasn’t actively snowing, but Terrasen winters were brutal. A grinning Aelin waited for you just past the castle doors. The two of you each linked one of Ceri’s arms. A good strategy to keep her from sprinting off. 

She led you through the city, you’d hit the sweet spot in the morning - less people on the streets, less to gawk and stare, and she knew every back road and alley. It might take you a while to get used to the city, considering none of the roads made any sense. Scratch that, it would. They all lead in nonsensical directions, sometimes looping back on each other. 

“I’ll need a map for a few weeks,” you commented. 

“I’ll get one for you.” Aelin grinned, leading you through the city gate, and to the right, tracing back along the wall. You figured it had been a twenty minute walk so far, and sure enough five minutes later the small houses began to grow, and Ceri began bouncing. 

A few for sale signs, and you opened your senses - looking for spots of residual magic. Where some magic wielders might have lived for a while. The area was brimming. Beautiful and ancient. 

This was as good of a time as any for a lesson. 

“Ceri,” you caught her attention. The two of you had let her go, making her promise to stay within ten paces. She stopped and turned, bright green eyes staring at you, before bounding back towards you. “See what you can feel.” 

Her eyes squeezed shut. “Eyes open.” 

She scowled, but listened. It was a crutch, and although you let it help at first, you knew she didn’t need it anymore. Her eyes scanned the perimeter, fingers wiggling beneath the mittens. 

“A lot of magic. Old.” 

“What else?” A long pause, but you waited. Aelin was silent beside you, watching curiously. You kept your focus on Ceri. 

“It’s mostly from humans.” She was looking back at the various fields, now overgrown with grasses. Farmers used to live here, in masses. 

“Good,” you grinned at her. She looked nearly identical to Rowan, but that was your mother’s grin on her face. Ceri led the way this time, spotting the houses with “for sale” signs. 

You could tell Aelin was brimming with questions, so you started. “It’s the first thing I learned as well.” 

“Sensing magic?” 

You hummed. 

“Is there a big difference between Human and Fae magic?”  

“It’s subtle,” you admitted. “But it’s a good thing to know.” To know who you’re facing. 

“How does your magic work?” She probed. 

“I have the basic shielding, myself and others,” that was the easy part to explain. “I use magic to put … intention into different materials,” you huffed a laugh. It always sounds ridiculous when you put it like that. In reality, it’s a bit more complex than that, but that’s the easiest way to describe it. 

“It lets you sense other magic.” 

“Most of us can,” you countered. 

“But more than others.” 

“I haven’t had a chance to compare,” it’s true, plus you had no desire to. Few knew the extent of your magic, and most of them were dead. You preferred it that way. 

“Intention,” she murmured - thinking aloud. “Like that dagger?” 

“I didn’t create it,” you said, slipping into neutrality, hand slowly drifting over your cheek. You avoided looking at her. 

“Is there something else different about it?” 

Yes, but nothing that has to be said. Still, this was an opportunity for you to show you trust her. Trust, of course, has to be earned, but giving a small show of it - even just providing a bit of extra information like this, could make a difference in the future. A small thread tugged at you, encouraging you to share. The Goddess who’d always guided you. Listening was the only option. 

“That particular one was created by an ancestor of mine. I don’t know who. Those daggers are more common than you’d think, most don’t know what they are. Usually intended for … ritual magic, tattooing, scarring,” you still couldn’t meet her gaze. “They used to be common practice. I don’t know how that male got that specific one, and it had worried you more than you cared to admit. But he was dead, they were destroyed. “It’s an object a collector probably would’ve loved.” 

“Are there a lot of those in circulation?” 

“Two less now,” you said without thinking, wincing before clearing your throat. “Made by my family? Very few.” Five were made actually, and you knew where one was, but the other two were still lost. The next part you hesitated, but one extra tidbit couldn’t hurt. “It’s not exactly illegal to create them on the Southern Continent, but highly frowned upon.” 

“Is that why you destroyed them?” 

“No,” you couldn’t lie to her. Silence radiated between the two of you, her surprise palpable. Aelin was waiting, waiting to see if you’d keep speaking. That wall started to surge, to form itself around your mind, to block, block, block, but this time you pushed back against it, a firm hand lowering it. Not to the ground, but so you could see past it. Finally, you looked at her. No judgment, just curiosity. 

“You don’t have to share, if you don’t want to.” 

Did you want to? Not particularly, but that stupid little thread tugged again. Mentally, you muttered a sorry at calling it stupid. 

“That one was special. It scars as intended, yes, but any blood it encounters … if the victim has magic, some of it will transfer inside of the blade. Just a trace, nothing someone would miss, but enough to have other uses.” 

You’d had too much time to think about it, to think on what it could mean. If someone had a dagger with your magic, even a hint of it … a weapon with the ability to throw magic into other objects? It doesn’t limit itself either, it would’ve kept on building the more victims it crossed. If the wielder knew how to use it correctly, they could potentially use it to throw someone elses magic into another person. One of your family’s daggers, objects missing for too long, thrown into circulation just as a large upheaval occurred. Just as everything changed again. It’s not something that could be completely ignored, even from Terrasen. But, some things were your burden to carry. Consequences passed through time and generations. 

“Good you destroyed them,” Aelin said quietly. A glance at her, and you knew her mind went the same way yours did. 

“They were originally used for healing,” you felt the need to defend your family’s legacy. You didn’t want to give the impression that they’d created an object with the intention for harm. 

“Sounds like it could’ve been a great tool.” 

“It was, for some time.” 

Gods, you were sharing too much now. Ceri saved the day, bounding back towards you and pointing to the house. 

“It’s perfect.” 

Not huge, but not small. From the outside, everything looked fine. Glancing at the price, you knew there had to be a catch. A bit of fixing up, you could handle. But if the roof was about to fall down? That would be a no. 

You looked underneath the price, squinting your eyes. To a good home.

An older male ambled out, spying the three of you eyeing it. 

As he led you through the house, you got the sense you were being interviewed, and answered all of his questions honestly, explaining what you were looking for in a home. 

“What do you want it to become?” 

Aelin looked at you from the corner of her eyes, but the male’s keen gaze, piercing brown eyes, were fixed on you. 

“A home for my daughter and I,” Ceri clutched your hand tighter, glancing between you and the other male. “Somewhere her friends can visit,” you squeezed her hands, “and relax.” 

“Have a lot of friends, do you?” 

Ceri nodded, and started rambling about the things they’d done yesterday. He listened patiently, commenting in all of the right places, and you could tell Ceri was taken with him. He did have a grandfatherly aspect to him. 

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “There’s some mice sometimes, you’ll need a cat.” 

“We have one,” Ceri piped. 

“That’s perfect then,” he patted her shoulder. “It’s yours if you want it,” he looked up to you. Now, three pairs of eyes were on you. 

“We’d be honored.” 

The words felt … right. You’d learned the home had been in his family for generations, but he was the last of them. He didn’t need to tell you what happened to his family, but he said he’d been the last occupant of the home, and would be moving into the city with a friend. 

“Are they a special friend?” 

“Ceri,” you hissed. 

“It’s alright,” he chuckled, looking at you with a hint of amusement. You replied with an apologetic grimace. “All friends are special.” 

You squeezed your daughter's hand, telling her now is not the time. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut. She’s at the age where a filter is a foreign concept to her, and any question seems appropriate. 

Turn around would take about ten days. He’d left you all of the furniture, all of the kitchen ware, nearly everything, even a collection of what looked to be ancient books. It almost seemed too good to be true … but, this time, an instinct told you to accept something good happened. That it happened without a greater cost. That you were worthy of good things. 

-

Aelin’s mind had wandered during the rest of your ‘girls trip.’ She half paid attention to the tour and conversations, enough so she knew what was going on if asked a question. But, her mind drifted to what you told her. She’d watched as you froze up, as you hesitated, but then told her anyway. As you showed trust in her. Trust with things you probably hadn’t told another person. There was still more to the story, but when she saw how uncomfortable you grew, common sense told her pushing wasn’t worth any potential knowledge she might acquire. 

She was correct that someone from your bloodline created it. First the admission of the type of dagger, then how the ones your family created were different. Something a collector would’ve loved. 

They were used for healing at some point, then stolen. At least that was what she picked up on. Her mind trailed to why you would’ve destroyed them, destroyed a family heirloom. Blood. Magic. Your magic - imbuing. 

Victim’s magic store itself. Enough to have other uses.

Very few. Two less. There’s still more. And you don’t know where they are, or she has a feeling you would’ve tracked them down by now. Aelin had a decent read on you at this point, and she’s well aware you wouldn’t let something like that exist in the world. 

Could those daggers have a history? Could she find mentions of them somewhere? You didn’t say relative, you said ancestor. 

She needed to talk to Rowan.

-

Rowan could tell Aelin was nearly bursting at the seams with something. She waited until it was the two of them, you and Ceri already off to bed, before sharing. 

He sat on the new wealth of information Aelin had learned. Moreover, he was shocked you’d shared all of that. It was more than you would’ve told him … would’ve told him in the past. There’s other reasons why you wouldn’t have shared that with him before. Still, if he’d asked the question would you have answered? A useless question, considering he wouldn’t ask you. He recognized you wouldn’t have told Aelin this if you didn’t expect he’d hear of it as well. 

It wasn’t meant to be hidden from him, just to be heard second hand. It felt like a consolation prize. 

“Is she worried about it?” He finally said, his pause giving the impression he was thinking the information over.

“Not excessively,” she shifted, stretching her legs out over his lap. Absentmindedly, thumb ran circles into her calf, loosening the tense muscles. A small purr left her chest. She was silent, contemplative, for a few moments. “There’s more to it. I know there is.” 

“Aelin,” he paused his movements, catching her eyes, hoping to tell her not to dig into it. Based on the look in her eyes, that wouldn’t be a deterrent. “At least don’t push her. Let her come to you. It’s sensitive family history you’re digging into.” 

At least that’s the impression he got. Aelin described how you seemed reluctant, emphasizing how she didn’t pry much. Speaking about your family had always been difficult for you, one of the topics you were most evasive about, and he doubted that changed too much over the years. 

“I know.” 

-

For the first few days, you struggled to figure out how to fill your time.

 Last time you’d been here, everyone was snowed in for the majority of the time, but now there weren’t any restrictions or requirements to stay in the castle. Last time, your stay in Orynth felt temporary, even with the knowledge you’d be returning. It was also the first storm of the year, and an early one. Now you’d just hit december. Meaning Yulemas was quickly approaching. Peak season for you, to sell any kind of little crafts, but you didn’t have a space to work yet and working out of the castle didn’t feel right to you.

In the mornings and early afternoons, Ceri had lessons with the rest of her friends and a few teachers from the castle, so you took it on yourself to walk through the city, trying to memorize each street and back alley. That was a new kind of torture for you. Going alone made your explorations much longer, but it was important you learned how to find your way through without help, to not rely on anyone - besides the little map now becoming worn down and creased with how frequent you referenced it.  

Making your way back to the main square, the jingling of bells and a few festive tunes reached you first. 

A market. 

Evergreen wreaths lined the streets, accented by bows, pinecones, and all sorts of little decorations. Stalls and stalls of vendors selling their wares, all of them braving the cold. A few had flasks on their hips, ones they took a few sips from time to time. You smiled to yourself, that’s certainly a way to help keep the chill out. 

As it happens, you came across a woman selling little carvings, a list of different types propped up on her table. ‘Enchanted,’ had a line crossed through it. She wasn’t particularly busy, so you decided to be nosy. 

“Enchanted ones already sold?” 

She smiled ruefully, “aye, the normal provider’s temporarily out of business, don’t know when they’ll be back.” You realized she might be referencing you. “A female from Antica, now based in Terrasen, not sure where.”

“Are there others?” 

Her mouth pressed into a tight line. “Not particularly good ones.” 

“Out of those too?” Gods, you really were being nosy, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

“If they don’t feel right or genuine, I try not to sell them. I like the ones that already have a bit of magic in ‘em.” She narrowed her eyes at another stall across the way. You nodded, and she seemed in the mood to share today. “The seller’s out of Antica, don’t know how she got here, but it’s lowered the price.” She was speaking of you. 

“The price?” 

“I used to import.” 

“Oh.” 

Maybe you should’ve kept track of where some of your work ended up. 

“I try to keep the prices fair,” she sighed and leaned back in her seat, balancing it on two legs. “For the ones who look like they need it.” That, you could appreciate. “Makes me sell out quicker.” 

You hummed, maybe you could make a few before the seasons up. “I heard a rumor,” you started hesitantly, and her head tilted, eyes curious. “That she’ll be back in business, have something ready about a week before Yulemas.” 

Oh, you had her attention now. “Do you know her?” 

A small nod. “You don’t?” 

A shake of her head, but you’d caught her attention. “Always dealt with someone in the middle. A bit annoying,” you tried not to wince, “but safer for her that way, I can understand.” 

“I can put you in touch.” It can’t be that hard to pretend you’re actually the one in the middle. 

“Really?” She looked skeptical, and for good reason. 

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a small trinket. A small amulet, one of the last things made before you left Caraverre, and a design you hadn’t used before, but if she’s sold some of your things, she should recognize it as genuine. Carefully, you handed it to her, watching as she examined, eyes squinting to look at the tiny carvings. 

“She won’t have much stock, and not til week or so before the holiday, but I can put you in touch and see what she has.”

“Even a few would make a difference,” she reached out and handed it back to you, gingerly. Almost like she was holding a treasure. 

“Keep that one for yourself. I’ll come back and let you know.” 

“That would be much appreciated.” 

Based on your smile, and the way she undid the clasp, tucking the small necklace inside her coat, you knew she would. Keep it and not sell it. You’d need to wait a few more days before returning, maybe even up to a week. Just to give the impression you actually were someone in the middle. 

Feeling in high spirits, a good deed done for the day, you headed back to the castle, hoping there would only be a few wrong turns this time. 

-

Aelin reached an arm around pulling you into her side, a hug of sorts, but her arm lingered. Naturally, your head dropping to her shoulder. She squeezed further, and didn’t move. Aelin tugged you closer. Rowan didn’t look uncomfortable when you stole a look at him. In fact something like a smile ghosted across his face. You realized how much you’d missed touch and affection. Platonic touch and affection, just among friends. Reya had always been a big hugger, the two of you cuddling up next to each other on the couch. 

Something you’d never even thought might be necessary. But now that it was here … you found yourself clinging to it like a lifeline. Touch starved enough that even the smallest affection feels like a blessing, like a gift from the gods. 

Aelin sighed, and you relaxed your body further, letting the wine send you loosen you, giving yourself permission to feel this. To bask in this momentary peace. 

“You’re much better at this than Rowan.” An indignant huff from the offended male. “Take notes,” Aelin teased him, drawing a laugh from you and a half-hearted glare from the other male. 

“And you’ve had a lot of wine,” you countered Aelin, but didn’t move. She’d initiated it … and if she felt uncomfortable, you’d let her move away. Maybe you should, maybe this is crossing some invisible line the wine haze is keeping you from recognizing, but it felt so right. 

“Am I a better cuddler than Fenrys?” 

This time, you did laugh. Aelin is definitely competitive. “I wouldn’t know.” 

She seemed pleased, and matter of fact, so did Rowan. You’re imagining it, for certain. In the morning you’d swear he never looked like that. Swear it was a figment of your imagination. 

As much as Fenrys made jokes about it, this hadn’t happened with him. Right now, you didn’t want it to, maybe you wanted to claim her as your official cuddle-friend. It’s the wine. Aelin wasn’t yours to claim, not in any way. Besides, you don’t believe in belonging to others. You belong to yourself, and that’s it. That’s the way it’s always been, and how it will always be. 

A part of you still lingered, still wondered what it would be like to have a mate. To forge a bond so deep, such a permanent and everlasting connection, one that could cross worlds and eternity, to love and be loved so deeply that separation was unbearable - that separation would tear your soul into tiny bits. 

Not the love of a mother and daughter, the love of two people meant to bind their souls together. Meant to claim each other equally. 

Could a bond like that be forged, or was it some kind of gift? Given just to those deemed worthy of it? 

It’s the wine. 

The odds are you’ll never know, and there’s no use in wasting time imagining it. 

taglist: @holb32 @moonlightttfae @cassianswh0reeee @reidishh @fussel9913 @abbyrose13 @brandywineeeee @acourtofbatboydreams (sorry it didn't let me tag everyone! you can comment on this or any others if you want to be added!

[utilitycaster]

Hi there, I saw in one of your tags recently that "if you think the raven queen was being unfair, I'm not really interested in your opinions." I was wondering if you could talk a little more about that because I'll be honest, Vax isn't my favorite character but I've seen all of C1 and I really don't get why some people HATE the RQ, call her unfair, manipulative and pretty plainly say this moon conflict is mostly her fault because she took Vax and through a Domino effect Ludinus is releasing Predathos. Also, I enjoy your theories and analysis for CR so much you got me listening to Midst, so thank you.

Hi anon,

Great question! This is going to be a very long post, with a relatively short initial answer, because there is both the literal misinterpretation that indicates this is not someone with strong analytical skills nor knowledge of canon, and a number of potential mindsets that lead to this manner of thinking in the first place, none of which I respect. You happen to have sort of hit upon the foundational elements of my whole deal re: CR meta, so, buckle in.

The first part is simple: Vex died because Percy triggered a trap before she'd been healed up. We've seen this sort of trap elsewhere in non-divine contexts (Folding Halls of Halas); it's just a form of trap. A particularly nasty one, but this is for a very powerful relic she doesn't want falling into the wrong hands, and, moreover, the party could have likely disabled it either through rogue skills or magic had Percy waited. Vax, then, as the third part of the resurrection ritual, told the Raven Queen to take him instead of Vex. The Raven Queen did precisely as he asked. He did not need to offer this (Scanlan was going to make an offering, the other parts of the ritual had gone well, it was Vex's first death so the DC was low, and Vax could have made any number of other, less dramatic offers), and he did so with the understanding that he would die in lieu of Vex, right then and there. He did not. I think that's the only case, actually, where the Raven Queen was not 100% upfront with her intentions before Vax accepted something; but he offered it voluntarily. Vax was a person who formed extremely intense connections, to the point where it was perhaps unhealthy, and did not believe life without his sister was worth living, and was willing to sacrifice himself to a god.

Everything after that was extremely straightforward. Vax communed with the Raven Queen, who spoke very directly with him in his vision in the Raven's Crest. She was extremely clear when she met with him following his disintegration: he was given the option to refuse her offer, and he took it instead. It is not manipulative to give someone a difficult decision, and if a character you like makes a choice you don't like, it is not automatically the result of manipulation.

As for the moon conflict being her fault…that is, to put it bluntly, unhinged, and what's more, ironic given that that's the manipulative argument. Ludinus tried to commune with Ruidus using a random crystalline artifact beneath Molaesmyr, centuries before Vax was born. He was going to do this regardless. If he couldn't get Vax, he'd get some other sliver of divinity, and what's more, it's been all but stated that Vax is not actually supposed to be leaving the Shadowfell to protect Keyleth, and is disobeying the Raven Queen directly (and it's been stated that this isn't necessarily helpful for Keyleth, who is trying to grieve and move on). So: Vax made his choices with the knowledge of what they entailed, is trying to bend if not break the conditions to which he agreed with full knowledge in a way that probably isn't healthy for him or Keyleth, and it's bananas to be like "wow look at how the Raven Queen made Ludinus try to free Predathos." Like. Even if she had tricked Vax, which she didn't, Ludinus literally could have just kept on his racist imperialistic longevitymaxxing beat indefinitely and left the moon well enough alone. The domino meme is a meme. I mean, while we're at it, couldn't we trace it back to Vecna instead, for killing Vax with Disintegrate in the first place, since had he not done so, Vax would have either survived that fight or would have been resurrected normally? Or perhaps it's Percy for triggering that trap. Or the Chroma Conclave for being the reason why Vox Machina was seeking the Deathwalker's Ward in the first place…but that only happened because Allura and Kima didn't kill Thordak but rather sealed him, and because a priestess of Melora cursed Raishan so that she had reason to ally with Thordak. We can go on indefinitely; the point is, to assign blame specifically to the Raven Queen when Ludinus literally did not have to do a goddamn thing with the moon is a fucking stupid take.

Below the cut, I talk root causes behind why people might decide the Raven Queen was unfair and come up with the above nonsensical argument to support that, since I don't think people say stupid things just to be stupid.

I think one root cause for this mentality of this is that the person in question wishes Vax hadn't died and is looking for someone to blame because they don't want to blame Matt Mercer and Liam O'Brien, even though yeah, that's who to blame. The thing is, as we learned in Campaign 2, character death is quite literally on the table. Had Vax not made his bargain, either in episode 1x103 or his original one during Vex's resurrection? He might have simply remained dead. Had he not given his life for Vex's, he was pursuing paladin anyway with the Everlight, and we don't know what she'd have required of him. But more importantly, for all people like to bring up a PC-centric perspective (which, in Actual Play, is inevitable) Vox Machina's frequent use of resurrection spells was in fact a massive privilege most people in Exandria do not have. And, unsurprisingly for a table whose DM made up rules specifically to make resurrection more difficult, the Critical Role cast is open to a story where death exists. I do not think it's an accident that resurrection has been made even harder in the subsequent campaigns. I also happen to think that Campaign 1 is a far richer and better story with Vax's death, given the other events that occurred. Had Vax not been the sort of person who would offer his life for a god to take in exchange for his sister? Sure, he'd possibly have lived to the end. But he was, and that's the character those people who wish he were still alive loved. If he wasn't that person, they wouldn't have liked him in the same way.

D&D is fundamentally about exceptional characters becoming more powerful, and will be focused on those characters. I do not think D&D supports a story about characters who reject all power. They can give up political power (the Mighty Nein, for the most part, do this - certainly more so than Vox Machina, and Bells Hells is yet to be seen) but they will progress in levels, which is power. Even if unwanted, it is power, because most people in the world are commoners with 5 HP and 10 in all their stats. With that said, a lot of people desperately want a subversion of this power narrative. Vax is, I think, the closest we get. In D&D you are not going to get a player character who finishes a campaign and remains Just Some Guy. But you can have someone like Vax, who doesn't have any interest in power (compare to Vex, who very much is about power and who gets a much happier ending) who nonetheless ends up on the Tal'Dorei Council and the favored of a god…and yet, in the end, his equally powerful friends still can do nothing to save him. I think a Power Bad story is overly simplistic, but "there are limits to power, and ultimately none of us have complete control" is not. I think Vax's death gives the story of Vox Machina a finality and heft that it would lack otherwise.

A second possible cause is the "What if the gods are BAD" argument. I'm going to be totally honest: I did not see this in the fandom until Campaign 3, and honestly, not until EXU Calamity in any widespread sense, which does lead me to believe that most people did not come up with it as a reasonable idea on their own until characters started saying it, because it is so plainly in conflict with the themes of Campaigns 1 and 2 that to make this argument would be obvious projection. Do I think a nuanced view of the gods as flawed beings, rather than perfection, is warranted? Absolutely. Mortals, too, are flawed, and we don't kill them all for it. I think Vax's story makes them uncomfortable because it makes it clear divine favor is not, as Ludinus Da'leth tries to argue, the gods just bestowing and withholding their gifts arbitrarily, but rather that divine favor comes with a divine responsibility as well. Clerics and paladins do not study the way wizards do; but they must live lives in service, whereas a wizard can shut the book at the end of the day and do whatever. Clerics and paladins have powers that can be taken away; a wizard does not. That's the fundamental concept behind the Age of Arcanum - wizards trying to get around the fundamental rules of this world! Vax's paladin powers came at a price. His options are guided, but also limited, by the oath he took. He is far more fettered than a wizard, in the end, and I think that fucks with the narrative of the gods cruelly withholding their gifts from all but a select few, so they instead make their gifts into manipulative punishments…while still, contradictorily, arguing that characters such as Laudna or Ashton or Imogen were denied the mercy of the gods. Now, setting aside the obvious, that these characters have their backstories because Marisha and Taliesin and Laura decided they would because this is a story, and one in which someone had a perfect life would be boring and so the gods didn't intervene with Laudna because Marisha Ray wanted to play a Sun Tree corpse (see next section), it really is fascinating to see how people who hate the Raven Queen so neatly align with Ludinus. It's fine for sorcerers to have inborn powers, apparently, and Ludinus actually has himself tried to ape druidic magic; it's not about power, it's just about that power source. Honestly, they're not even above the gods as a power source - Ludinus used the crystal beneath Molaesmyr seemingly unaware if it were of the Archheart, and he's demonstrably using Vax, and everyone loves a resurrection from the gods, but heaven forbid you pay someone for the work you feel yourself entitled to. (Entitlement: this will also be a theme throughout the rant portion of this post.)

As a brief subsection to this: the idea that bad things happen to good people because the other side of that coin is free will is an ancient theological and philosophical discussion, and one we are obviously not going to solve here, though it is a little depressing I have had multiple rewarding conversations on this topic, thanks to an academically rigorous religious education, starting from the tender age of 9, and a lot of adults on Tumblr seemingly can't engage on the level of my third-grade classmates. I think, however, it tells a truth that fits in well with the wizard (and entitled fan) desire to control everything. People are terrified of random forces. Cancer, for example, is a matter of probability. There are things that can increase your chances of developing cancer, to be sure, but the simile I used when I was taught about radiation-induced cancers was that of lottery tickets: if you buy more, you have a better chance; but sometimes someone who bought a single ticket "wins" and someone who bought a ticket weekly never does. By believing the gods of Exandria are on trial for not intervening with every little hardship or for not taking Vax precisely as he intended, they reveal a profound terror of random chance and of the free will of people who are not them. Which is very funny when you consider we're watching Actual Play, where random chance is a deliberately induced element. I think the takeaway of all of this is "I think some of you guys are really mad this is a D&D game." But let's continue.

The third, and honestly most likely cause, is honestly sort of a continuation of the first but not centered around Vax so much as just a general, in my opinion deeply childish discomfort of any sort of tragedy or unhappiness in fiction. I've noticed this a lot lately, and I am not a cultural critic and don't have a high enough level view to pretend to be one, but as others have noted a lot of people seem affronted when whatever show they are currently watching does not meet their specific standards of "comfort media" or "hopepunk." It's a self-infantilization I don't care for, and it's certainly not limited to the CR fandom (see: any grown-ass adult passionately defending a choice to only watch children's cartoons and only read YA) or even fandom at all (see: the baffling popularity of the Mr. Rogers "look for the helpers" line which was intended for anxious young children, not for adults who can and should be the helpers). It really came into focus for me with CR when people referred to both EXU Calamity and to Candela Obscura's Circle of Needle and Thread as specifically "hopeless." They are, to me, deeply hopeful series. They are sad, and tragic, and many characters do not get a happy ending, but they are ultimately about how some people will endure, and will live on and find meaning after great loss. Calamity explicitly states that because of the actions of the heroes, while devastation will occur, total annihilation is mitigated. It's like the adage of how courage only means something in the face of fear; hope only means something in the face of darkness. Happy and fluffy tales are not hopeful; they are merely not things that require you to have hope. The root word of catharsis is that of cleansing and purgation and it originally related to physical excretion - cathartic stories are about getting those complicated and ugly emotions and fears out and feeling better for it by briefly feeling, perhaps, worse! Now, again, this has worsened with Vax's story with time. Shortly after Campaign 1, it was very common to see stories where Vex or Keyleth were utterly distraught, indefinitely, but those at least were engaging with grief, even if in a very shallow and unproductive way. But this has morphed into this idea that the fact that a work of fiction might make you even feel sadness makes it bad, and wrong, and hopeless, and the machinations of a cruel and heartless god. Which brings me back to the entitlement narrative: it's really as simple as "the story didn't give me what I wanted (whether that was a happy ending for Vax, or for Keyleth, or just a lack of sadness generally, or a narrative about the gods that validates my personal beliefs, or a way to justify Ludinus's actions), so it is bad." Which again is about being in control of the narrative, which again, in D&D, is simply not something anyone can claim. Why are these people here watching a D&D game? I don't know.

So that's really it: on a basic level, if you think the Raven Queen is unfair, you are profoundly ignorant of canon, so I'm already going to have to fact check anything you cite (if you cite at all), but there's a much deeper refusal to meet stories where they are and expand one's own comfort zone at play, and that means any analysis will never consider the possibility that your pre-existing beliefs were wrong (absolutely crucial in meta). You will always play it too safe and be uninspired and reactionary because the alternative is uncertainty and fear. I think a refusal to embrace tragedy in fiction is itself a profound tragedy; that is someone who is terrified to believe that life goes on.