#i love how their code names are used as titles they really do blend in to make some au persona squad

[kingdaddydaichi]

🖤 title: raze & level

🖤 pairing: yuuji itadori x f!reader

🖤 wc: 6.4k

🖤 song: "seventh" - bosco

🖤 cw: mdni, nsfw, characters aged up 21+ as per usual, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, fluff

🖤 an: i adore yuuji for many reasons, but one of the main ones has to be because of the way he blends and balances warmth and kindness with conviction and fierce passion

🖤 banner fanart by @victoriacapo

Yuuji raised his head off of his pillow and reached for his phone. It was late, but when he saw your name on the screen, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Did I wake you up?” you asked softly.

Yuuji yawned. “Nuh-uh. What’s up?”

“Can I come over?” Your voice wavered. “I know it’s late, but I really need to not be alone right now.” It was obvious you were crying.

The pink-haired male sat up, his brow furrowing as he switched the phone to his other ear. “You okay? Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I can drive. Are you sure it’s okay, Yuuji? I don’t wanna impose-”

“Of course, it’s okay,” he interrupted.

“Alright.” You sighed. “I’m leaving my place now.”

“See ya soon. Be careful.”

“Thank you. You’re amazing, Yuu.”

I’m amazing. Right. Yuuji dropped his phone on his chest and dragged his hands down his face, groaning. He had a sneaking suspicion as to what you were upset about. That, or he was struck with another bout of wishful thinking.

You’d texted him 3 separate times already this week about your douchebag of the month. Yuuji knew the bro code and therefore also knew that in your mind you were dating the douchebag, but in reality he’d just been toying with you, leading you on with little more than crumbs - just enough to make sure if he called or texted that you’d be there waiting for him with open legs. 

Yuuji wished he could tell you that. Well, he had told you that - in so many words - about the fuckboy you dated a couple of months ago. He didn’t even have to meet the guy to know he was just using you for sex, and he told you as much. He’d hoped you’d open your eyes to the truth instead of blinding yourself with whatever it was you wanted to see. But it backfired. 

You got so mad at him that you didn’t speak to him for over 2 weeks. “Damn it, Yuuji! Why’re you acting like a jealous boyfriend all of a sudden?” you’d said before storming out of his apartment. 

Now, as much as it pained him to watch the girl he was secretly in love with pine for some dude who didn’t deserve to lick the dirt off her shoes, Yuuji hadn’t wanted to say or do anything that would jeopardize what he had with you. He reasoned that having you in his life as a friend was better than not having you around at all, though he wanted much, much more. 

But he’d been doing some thinking and decided that he’d rather you hate him if it meant you’d stay away from the fuckboys and find someone else who would love you even half as much as he did. Besides, he had fallen even more in love with you since then and the pain was getting worse. 

His heart ached every time your hand so much as grazed against his. The way you leaned against him sometimes when he made you laugh made his heart beat faster for you. You’d probably never know how many times he’s wanted to pull you into his arms and kiss you until you felt all the love he harbored for you.

You knocked on his door and heard his voice call out from inside. “Door’s open!”

He’d left his door unlocked for you, as he always did. You walked in to find your best friend standing up from the couch. He stretched his arms over his head, his shirt lifting just enough to expose his lower abs and black happy trail. The black waistband of his underwear peeked out from the top of his light grey sweats. He greeted you in the middle of a dramatic yawn before shuffling into his kitchen.

“Thanks for letting me come over, Yuuji. I’m sorry it’s so late.”

He waved your apology away. “Don’t worry about it. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” 

“I just found out he’s been fucking someone else on the side.”

About fucking time you figured it out, Yuuji thought. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s honey whiskey. “So, another one bites the dust, huh?”

Before he could turn around you’d already wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head against his back, crying. “I just don’t get it, Yuuji. What’s wrong with me? I can’t figure out if I’m too much or not enough-”

He spun around and grabbed you by the shoulders, the severe look in his eyes catching you off guard. He was grinding his teeth, his jaw flexing as he stared down at you, his brow knitted in frustration. Sukuna’s eyelids had always made him look more tired than he was. 

“What?” you asked, the rest of the words on your tongue forgotten.

He let go of your shoulders and stepped outside of your reach. You watched as he leaned against the opposite countertop, unscrewed the cap from the whiskey bottle, and took a long, hard swig. 

You slowly took the bottle from his outstretched hand and took a pull of whiskey while watching him rub his eyes with his palms, realizing that your friend seemed a little worse for wear as well. 

“What’s going on, Yuu? I can tell something’s eating at you,” you said, passing the Jack Daniel’s back to him.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose before forcing the most convincing smile he could muster. “Nah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before speaking. “Bullshit. I know the difference between your real smile and your fake one. You know I hate it when you pretend like everything’s okay when I know it’s not.” 

He averted his eyes and took another drink. 

“What’s wrong, Yuuji? Talk to me.”

Before you stood a man with nothing to lose. He’d already decided he would confess to you the next time you came crying to him over some loser who had hurt you. He was sick of seeing you brokenhearted, knowing that he would make you the happiest girl in the world if given half a chance. 

And he was tired of hurting too. You had no idea you’d broken his heart, one hairline crack at a time. 

He knew everything was about to change between you. But it was worth everything to him to risk the loss of your presence from his life - his world - if it meant that you could ultimately be happy and properly loved by someone else. 

Fuck it, he thought. It’s now or never. He took another heavy swallow of liquor. You were about to tell him to stop bogarting the booze when he finally began to talk. 

“Alright, you want the truth? Here it is. You’re fucking gorgeous, (Y/n), and anyone who can’t see or appreciate that and all the other beautiful things about you is the one who’s not enough!” He pointed at you with the bottle in his hand. “And if you’re too much of anything, it’s your light! From the moment I laid eyes on you, you’ve blinded me and I can’t see anyone else! You’re fucking perfect, they don’t deserve you, and I love you!” 

Your heart leapt into your throat, making it difficult to breathe. As did his. He hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

He looked away before hazarding a glance at you from the corner of his eye, your face clearly indicating your astonishment. “Not that it matters to you.” He took another swig from the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, teeth clenching from the burning in his throat.

“It does matter to m-“

He interrupted you. “I don’t even care if you hate me and never wanna talk to me again after this! But as your friend I’m not gonna stand by and keep my fucking mouth shut anymore while you get treated like some shithead’s pocket pussy! You need to know the truth because you deserve so much better! If you were my girl I’d treat you like a real man should!”

“Then step the fuck up already and make me your girl, damn it!”

“Fine! Wait what?” Surely he hadn’t heard you correctly. He looked down at the label in his hand. Must be the whiskey, he thought.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say those words? Hm? How many times I’ve thought about how much happier I’d be with you?”

It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but he answered anyway. 

“I- I didn’t know.” His softer voice had returned, though raspy from the liquor and the yelling. “How long?”

You picked at the cotton cuff of your hoodie sleeve. “Since the first time I saw you.”

He set the honey whiskey aside and took a step towards you. “Why didn’t you say something to me?”

“You were already dating someone, Yuuji! Even after you broke up I thought you only saw me as a friend. You've never even hinted at anything else!”

“Are you mad at me?”

“A little, yeah. All this time I’ve been fighting my feelings for you just to find out you’ve been too chickenshit to make a move while simultaneously getting my heart broken by fuckboys when I could’ve been with you all along!”

He took another step towards you, glancing at your lips.

“I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship.” He put his hands on your shoulders and slid his thumb along the curve of your neck. Just a subtle touch from him set your skin ablaze. “But I guess now we both know things can’t stay the same anymore.” He furrowed his brow, his eyes still locked on yours, and sighed. “Even if we could forget this conversation ever happened, my heart wouldn’t and if my honesty destroys everything then so fucking be it.”

You thought for a moment, swirling your fingers in a circle along his forearm. “Well. If we’re gonna raze our friendship to the ground,” you said, looking up at him with daring eyes, “we might as well go all out.”

His hands slid down your back and waist before stopping on your hips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eager eyes nervously searching yours.

“I really wish you would,” you said. 

His hands cupped your face, his thumb wiping your last tear away. He was in awe of you, admiring the way your eyes slid shut as you leaned into his touch. His sweet breath tickled your cheek, the scent of a charred oak barrel warm against your skin.

Your hearts pounded, your knees felt weak. The whole world stopped moving when Yuuji softly slotted his lips with yours. You matched his pressure and moved your lips with his, the heat between you melding you together with this one kiss. 

Your heavy eyelids opened to find yourself trapped by his adoring gaze.

How was it that he found himself standing in front of you like this? With your hands gripping his broad shoulders and his face mere inches from yours, watching as you licked the taste of his kiss from your lips, sending that familiar ache straight to the base of his spine. 

He looked into your eyes, searching your soul for even a hint of hesitation, but instead found a fire that burned only for him. 

You stood on your tiptoes and pulled him down to you by the fistsful of his t-shirt as your lips crashed together. Your hands slid into his hair as his tongue slipped into your mouth. He wrapped his strong arms around your body, squeezing you tightly just as you rolled your tongue over his. 

You gasped when your back was forced against the wall behind you. Yuuji deepened the kiss, his intensity growing in direct proportion to your urgency. 

He pressed himself against you, the shape of his stirring cock obvious against the crease of your leg. You rolled against him, your hip catching the sensitive head through his sweats, making him groan in your mouth. He filled his hands with your ass and squeezed, pulling your lower half tighter against him, craving more of your body’s friction against his growing erection. 

You tugged at his white t-shirt before pushing it up to his chest, urging him to take it off. The first time you saw Yuuji without a shirt on you thought that if you ever got the opportunity you were going to cop a feel of his perfect six pack. Well, now was your chance. 

His warm, soft skin goosebumped under your touch as you explored his twitching muscles and the dips between them. The small patch of hair on his broad chest tickled your fingers, his heart pounding within as he peeled his shirt off for you, teeth clashing as he dove back into your kiss.

Yuuji unzipped your hoodie and pushed it off your shoulders, leaving you in your tank top, braless, your nipples already standing at his attention. Part of him wanted to rip your clothes off, but the bigger part of him wanted to savor this, to indulge in every little step towards the demise of your platonic relationship. In case this was to be the only time his hands would roam your body freely he wanted to take his time and commit every inch of you to his memory.

Your fingers began to play at the top of his sweats, the hair beneath his navel tickling your knuckles. Yuuji gripped the underside of your thighs and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the warmth of his skin burning against the insides of your thighs. He carried you to his living room and laid you down in the comfortable spot he’d occupied when you walked through his door.

He leaned over you, pitching a prominent tent in his sweats. You shifted and squirmed, positioning your slit against his engorged cock. With his tongue swirling around yours, he cupped his hand under one of your breasts before giving it a slow, firm squeeze. Your back arched, your pebbled tits jutting out and beckoning him for more of his touch. 

Yuuji slipped one of his hands beneath your loose fitting tank, squeezing your nipple between his fingers as his warm hand slid over one of your soft tits. He pulled away from your kiss to help lift your top over your head before tossing it over his shoulder and licking his lips. Your whole future flashed in his honey brown eyes as they took you in and drank you down. 

“Is this okay?” Yuuji asked, still dry humping you as the back of his fingers traced along your jaw. 

You smiled and nodded, answering him with a breathless “yes”.

You could hardly believe this was happening. Here you were with your best friend, Yuuji Itadori - his godlike body hovering above you with your back on his couch. His slow hands touching your searing skin, dipping his head down to lavish your nipple with his tongue, his pink hair tickling the most sensitive spots on your neck. 

He rolled his hips against you, his clothed cock rubbing against your slit with every stroke. Knowing he was this hard for you made you even wetter for him, though you wondered if you’d be able to take him all the way. Even through the thick fabric of his sweats, now with a darkened wet spot from his leaking tip, you’d accurately surmised that Yuuji was well-endowed and you were done waiting to touch him. 

He moaned when your fingertips blazed along the skin above his boxer briefs. 

“(Y/n)...are you sure you mmmmmmm…” He completely lost the ability to speak when your hand slipped inside his underwear and found his hot cock. You coated his thick tip with his pre, massaging it as more leaked out, slowly working the clear fluid along his length with your fist. “Fuuuck…” Yuuji’s head dropped to the crook of your neck, his fingers digging into the plush of your hips. “…feels so good, (Y/n)...touching me like this.”

Your clit buzzed as Yuuji fucked his cockhead into your hand, his clothed shaft grinding down along your slit. Through the thin material of your shorts you could feel the thick vein underneath his cock rolling over your swollen bud. “Yuuji…”

He hummed. 

“Want you t’touch me too,” you cooed.

Slipping his hands between your bare legs somehow felt wrong to him until you reached down and grabbed his wrist, guiding him closer to your moist heat. Still grinding against you he slipped his fingers inside the leg of your shorts. You bit your lip to keep from crying out when his knuckles grazed your wet slit. 

“You’re not wearing any panties?” 

Having lost the ability to speak, you shook your head no. 

He smirked. “Didn’t expect that.” His calloused index and middle fingertips glided over your slippery clit. “Mmm…damn, (Y/n), you’re already so wet for me,” he whispered into your mouth. 

You sighed when he slid his middle finger inside you, your fingertips digging into his arm. Your best friend was going to make you fall apart all around him - right along with your friendship.

Yuuji was knuckle-deep inside your pussy, reaching diligently for that unmistakable rough pad of flesh just inside. The head of his hard cock rubbing his wet spot against your clit.

“Yuuji…” you gasped, thighs squeezing around his ribs as you pushed the waistband of his sweats down with your toes. “Need to feel more of you. P-please.” 

He reached between you and pushed his sweats down to his athletic thighs. You moaned at the sight of his long, thick cock bouncing in its freedom. Licking your lips, you watched as a fresh bead of his precum drooled from the tip. A couple of prominent veins adorned his shaft and his dark pink tip peeked out of his foreskin. He throbbed in your hand as you pulled the sheath of skin back to expose his cockhead. 

Yuuji noticed you staring and smirked, feeling a little shy when you looked up at him again. You moved your shorts to one side for him, letting his bare cockhead kiss your clit. So close to coming already, your heels dug into the backs of his thighs. You swore between gritted teeth at how good it felt when he added his ring finger to tug on your sweet spot. 

You squirmed under him, rocking your hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers. He moaned at the sensation of your soft walls closing in around his digits. He smirked against the curve of your neck, kissing and grazing his teeth along your sensitive skin.

“Is it okay if I make you come?” Yuuji’s breath was uneven against your dampening skin. 

“Oh god yes Yuuji,” you gasped in his ear. 

“That’s it, come for me (Y/n)…”

”Yes…oh fuck…Yuuji!”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, unrelenting in his ministrations.

Your fingertips dug into his bare, wide shoulders when the coil within you snapped.

Yuuji’s heart felt so full when you came apart around his fingers. He knew you needed to feel safe - physically and emotionally. So honored that you trusted him to be there, keeping you close and letting you ride out your orgasm as you ground your weeping slit against his throbbing cock. 

When your waves of pleasure subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers and licked them before wiping them on his abs. Your eyes remained closed, chest rising and falling as he settled between your legs to be closer to you. He placed a couple of tender kisses on the side of your face, making you smile. 

“Damn, Yuuji…” 

He hummed against your jugular as his hot breath fanned across your throat.

“I haven’t been able to come like that in so long…” Your eyes opened to find him looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His kind eyes reflected back to you all the love and admiration he felt for you. You put your hand on his face, bringing him closer to kiss him. 

Yuuji slid his body further down between your legs, kissing and nipping at your tits and navel and hips as he went. He kissed along your inner thigh, burning a slow trail to your sex before pushing the crotch of your soaked shorts to the side. You looked down to find his lust blown eyes staring into yours with a fire in them you’d never seen before. 

“Yuuji, you don’t have to-ohhhhfuck.” 

His pretty lips closed around your clit as your head fell back onto the couch. You whined and moaned, squirming under his tongue as he lapped at your swollen pink bud. You were close to coming again when he pulled away, tugging urgently at your shorts before yanking them off your legs, rendering you completely naked. 

“Mmm you taste amazing, (Y/n).” 

He dove back in, lapping and licking and suckling at your clit while he slipped his skilled fingers back inside to play with your g-spot. Typically you’d be too sensitive this soon after an orgasm to handle this much stimulation, let alone to find yourself on the precipice of another one.

But Yuuji’s tongue felt so damn good swirling and flicking, teasing your lips, kissing and sucking on your twitching clit. Hands down the best head you’d ever had. It was as though your pussy was the first body of water his tongue had found after seeking it in the desert for centuries, hellbent on devouring every last drop. 

You balled your fists into his pink hair, riding against his face with little regard for his comfort. Not that he paid any mind. He’d die a happy man a million times over if it meant suffocating between your trembling thighs.

“Y-yuuji-“

He closed his eyes and hummed, putting every ounce of focus into your pleasure. He rutted against the couch cushion on instinct, his leaking precum puddling into a dark spot on the fabric.

“Oh-hmmm…Yuuji? M’gonna come again!” you whined. 

With the fingers of one hand gripping his upper arm and the other in his hair you braced yourself for the boulders of ecstasy that began to tumble through your bones. The heels of your bare feet provided little more than a massage against Yuuji’s muscular back when they dug in.

He relished the pain of your fingers tugging at his hair, twisting his powder pink locks in your fist while the other left fresh crescent moons in his tricep. But the sound of his name, his name - Yuuji - falling from your addictive lips just one more time was, to him, worth all the pain and suffering the world had to offer. 

His fingers were still slowly rubbing the inside of your honeyed walls when he raised up to kiss you, your distinct flavor lingering on his tongue. 

Yuuji sat up before leaning back on his heels, his proud cock standing at full mast, aching for your attention. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaning towards you again only for his sweet brown eyes to widen when your hand pressed on his hard chest, pushing his back against the couch.

“Mm…wanna taste you…” You slurred your words in your pleasure-drunken state.

Yuuji’s hands gripped the cushions beside him when your teeth playfully grazed his collarbone. “Fuck, (Y/n)...” he groaned.

You sank down between his legs until your knees touched the floor beneath you. 

Yuuji pushed his bottoms down to his knees before working them off one leg at a time. He leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair. He was nervous and comfortable at the same time - comfortable with you but nervous about whether or not you liked his body. He knew he had a decent physique - but did you like it? Then there were the scars. And that random birthmark on the back of his thigh. 

“I never thought I’d find myself in this position with you…” you mused, heat blossoming on the apples of your cheeks. 

“Me either,” Yuuji said. “But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it a thousand times.”

“You fantasize about me?” 

“Yeah?” Yuuji grimaced. “Do you think that’s creepy?”

“Not at all.” Yuuji pressed his fist against his forehead, watching as you kissed the scar next to his navel. You wrapped your nimble fingers around his cock and squeezed his thigh. “I’ve thought about you too while, you know…touching myself.”

Yuuji’s moan was low and deep, his warm pre rolling down along the underside of his shaft, daring you to taste it. “Y-you have?”

You hummed as you kitten-licked the broad head of his cock and giggled at the way Yuuji’s legs jumped. He tasted warm and salty like fresh cream, but better. One sample was all it took - you pulled his foreskin all the way back and swirled your tongue around his spongey tip. 

“Oh shit, (Y/n)…” he moaned. 

You licked along the underside of his glans, seeking every last drop of his flavor that had collected there. Yuuji observed, though struggling to focus through the searing heat that had been pooling at the base of his spine. 

You gracefully wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, stretching them around his girth. Yuuji thought he would lose his mind when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him in a little more. There was no way you could take all of him but you weren’t above choking on him to give him your best effort. 

You wanted every inch of Yuuji. You craved every drop of him. Every moan that poured from his lips. Every ounce of love that he had for you. Every beat of his heart through the pulse of his pretty cock. 

“Ohh fuuhhhh-” Yuuji’s eyes rolled back as they slid shut. The wet heat of your mouth, the drag of your sweet lips along his length as you bobbed up and down made his head spin. 

You did your damnedest to lick the ridge on the underside of his thick shaft with every pass. You gagged on him and he pulled himself out, his big brown eyes filled with worry and regret. 

“Shit, are you okay, (Y/n)? I shouldn’t hahhhfuuuck.” 

You took him deep inside your greedy mouth again, sucking and licking like a woman starved. 

“Ohshit, I-hmm…” He threaded his fingers through your hair, moving it to the side to preserve his view of your perfect face as you stuffed it with his cock. 

“(Y/n)...” 

You knew he was close by the way his balls had been spasming in your hand. 

“Oh damn…” Yuuji clenched his teeth, biting back the whimper that came dangerously close to erupting from his lips. 

“You might wanna…”

He’d never cum in a girl’s mouth before - no one had ever let him. He’d only ever been told that it’s “gross” and that “all cum tastes bad”. 

“…i-if you - ohhshit…”

But unlike them, you’d been eager for him to empty his balls inside your open mouth, to squirt his seed onto your waiting tongue to finally know how Yuuji Itadori tastes. 

“(Y-y/n)!” 

Yuuji threw his head back as his first powerful spurt, hot and bitter, coated the back of your throat. He was coming hard, grunting and squirming. But you kept right on pumping his length with your hand as he filled your suckling mouth. 

When he was spent you slowly pulled off of him, releasing him gently before looking up at him with a satisfied grin. His head was still resting on the back of the couch with his hands covering his eyes. You wiped away a small glob of his semen that had leaked from the corner of your lips before sucking it off your thumb. 

“Oh my god, (Y/n),” he panted. A light sheen of sweat glazed his perfectly sculpted torso, his chiseled chest rising and falling rapidly while his abs flexed and caved. 

He’d never looked sexier and you were aching between your legs again, your need leaving a wet spot on his thigh as you climbed onto his lap. 

You straddled Yuuji’s thighs and gasped when your slick smeared along his softening length. His hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer as you ground your wet clit against him, making him moan in your mouth at the overstim. His distinctly pungent flavor lingered on your tongue as it swirled and danced around his. 

“Yuuji,” you breathed, “need you so bad…please.”

His cock twitched back to life at the sound of your desperate words - things he’d only ever dreamed he’d hear drip from your lips like nectar into his mouth. 

He kneaded the fat of your hips and thighs, encouraging you to keep moving against him, his hardening cock nearly soaked from base to tip with your need. 

Your hands found purchase in his soft pink locks, your elbows resting on his shoulders with your arms curling over the back of his head. Your hopeless little moans breathing more life into his dick. You needed him. 

“You sure this is really what you want? I need to know for sure because I have feelings for you, (Y/n), and I don’t think there’s any going back for me after this.”

“…and I love you.” The words he’d spoken earlier echoed through the halls of your mind. 

“I don’t wanna go back. I’ve ignored my feelings for too long. I care for you too, Yuuji. N’want you.”

He threaded his fingers into your (h/l) hair and pulled you closer. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.” His cock jumped against your sensitive pussy as if to agree with him. 

He helped you onto your feet before standing up in front of you, your wanton hands squeezing and pulling on his nearest body parts. Yuuji’s fingers were in your hair and his heart was in your hands. 

“Hold onto me. I’m taking you to my bed.” With an arm securely around your shoulders he swept you up - making you gasp - and carried you to his bedroom. 

“Really, Yuuji? Bridal style?” You giggled. 

“Damn right. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”

“Oh my god, Yuu! You’re such a cheesy romantic.”

“Shut up. You love it,” he said, laying you down on his cool, unmade sheets. 

You spread your legs and reached for him. He filled the space you made for him, nestling his warm hips between your burning thighs. 

You pulled him down into a deep kiss and whispered, “You’re right, I do love it.” Your focus briefly shifted as you remembered the guys who’d come before him and how they had spoken to you, the things they had said when placed in Yuuji’s position. “M’just not used to it.”

“That’s alright. You will be soon,” Yuuji said, tilting your chin up to meet his adoring gaze. 

You tried to fight it, but a rogue tear escaped from the corner of your burning eyes and rolled across your temple as your hands covered your eyes. “Stop it, Yuuji.” You smiled. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

He wrapped his tender fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face and shook his head. “I’ll never stop.” He kissed the tear from your temple. “Gonna keep doing what it takes to see you smile. M’gonna make you happy, (Y/n). M’gonna be the guy you talk about when you tell your other friends that you’re finally with someone who treats you right.” Yuuji rolled his languid hips, his hard cock gliding over your swollen clit. 

“Yuuji…” you whined, “please…fuck me.”

“Nuh-uh.” He kissed you slow and sweet. “M’gonna make love to you the way I’ve always wanted.” He chuckled at your pout and said, “Don’t worry - I’ll fuck you later, but -“ He reached between your legs and guided his leaking tip to your aching entrance. “-oh god Yuuji-“ “-I want our first time together to be special.”

Your back arched at the warm stretch of his large cockhead when he pressed it through your opening. His guttural groan softened into a quiet sigh as he sank deeper and deeper until his full length was buried inside you. You bit your lip, eyes locked on Yuuji’s when he started to move. 

“NnnYuuj- ahhhaah…hnnhh…” His girth offered the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt, filling you perfectly as he dragged it against your succulent walls.

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long.” His breath hitched as his hips, wet with your arousal, collided with yours, slow and strong. “Feels so good to -mmm- finally be inside you. Your pretty, tight pussy -god- sucking me in.” 

“Mmnhhfuck-“ You sighed. “Your cock feels so amazing.”

“Yeah? I’m not too big for you, am I?”

“No…” You kissed him, your wet tongues dancing between your open mouths. “You’re -hnnm- just right.”

The thick head of his cock kissed the opening of your cervix with each rock of his pelvis. He held onto your thigh as you locked your ankles under his butt. The bed began to creak when Yuuji threw his hips harder against the tender skin of your open legs, his lips grazing yours. 

He hooked a hand behind your knee, opening your thighs wider. He licked the pad of his thumb before pressing it to your clit, rubbing fast circles against it while dipping his slick-coated cock between your pussy lips. 

The pressure that had been building inside you began to collapse in on itself, the searing heat of your impending orgasm pooling into a smaller and smaller space. “Hnnmmm- Yuuji…”

He’d felt it too, the tightening of your core around him and decided that now was the time to start fucking you. 

You were closing in on him so hard and fast, your pussy clamping down so tight that it threatened to push him out. He fucked you harder, forcing his cock back inside you with every snap of his hips.The sound of skin slapping wet skin could just barely be heard over your loud moans and gasping of his name until all the pressure that had mounted within you finally erupted from its point of singularity. 

Yuuji fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy sucking him in so deep, the desperate sound of his name falling from your lips in broken whimpers - pushing him past the point of no return.

You didn’t complain about the overstim, didn’t stop him or even try to slow him down.

You watched him as he moved - the way his flexing arms, chest, and abs shimmered with sweat, the striation of every muscle beneath his skin. Your gaze zeroed in on his face, admiring his handsome features while his eyes were closed, lost in pleasure. 

The sight of Yuuji in the throes of passion, having lost all control, was beyond your wildest fantasies. You couldn’t have torn your eyes away even if you’d wanted to. 

“Fuck! I’m -mmm- so close!” his eyes screwed shut, face twisted in ecstasy.

You grabbed his undulating ass with both hands, squeezing and pulling him into you. “Come inside me, Yuuji,” you moaned.

His hips began to stutter, his violent thrusts becoming more and more erratic.

“(Y/n)! Oh god! I’m coming!”

He plunged his full length into you one last time, his moan echoing off his bedroom walls when his first release of seed spilled inside you. His cock jerked with every subsequent spend of his white hot cum until it began to ooze out around the base of his thick shaft, still buried deep inside your dripping cunt. 

With his palms flat against the sheets he held himself up, his sexy body hovering over you, chest heaving to catch his breath. The widest, goofiest open-mouthed grin you’d ever seen spread across his face as he slowly opened his eyes. You giggled. “Was it good for you, Yuuji?”

He huffed and nodded, still unable to form coherent thoughts. Just a big dumb smile was all he could manage quite yet. He looked so cute, so happy, and it was all because of you. 

He rolled off of you, his sticky seed gushing between your thighs when his softening cock slipped out. You turned over onto your belly as he wrapped a fatigued arm around your back and pulled your naked body flush with his. The kiss you shared was passionate yet unhurried. 

“So…do you think our friendship is ruined now?” he asked, stroking your arm.

Your heart blossomed in your chest and you smiled. “Nah. I think we just leveled up.”

Your legs were tangled with Yuuji’s, toes and feet mindlessly brushing against each other. Yes, this is what you wanted. So much so that your heart twisted, wanting so badly to hear him say those three little words to you again, but too scared to ask. 

What if he didn’t mean it? 

Yuuji opened his eyes and knew something was wrong by the way you averted yours.

His thumb brushed across your cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Your cheeks warmed with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. “Nothing, it’s fine. I’m okay.” 

He gave you a look that clearly said he wasn’t buying it. “C’mon, what is it, (Y/n)? Talk to me,” he said, his fingers playing with yours. 

You stopped chewing your lip and hid your face in the crook of his neck. “Did you mean it? When you said you love me?”

He hooked a finger under your chin, raising your head to look at him. He rolled onto his side, his chest pressed to yours. “Of course, I meant it.” His breath was hot against your cheek as he kissed it. “Still do.”

“Say it again, Yuuji? Tell me you love me?”

He raised up onto his elbow, those warm honey eyes gazing down on you as he interlaced his fingers with yours. “I love you, (Y/n).”

You cupped his adoring face in your hands, searching his eyes and finding a bottomless well of love inside them. “I love you too, Yuuji,” you confessed.

Yuuji smiled against your lips when you kissed him slow and sweet. Between the lazy shows of affection and in no hurry for any of it to end he thought, Finally.

[rockinlibrarian]

fellow jaclyn moriarty fan! hello :3

Hello! Yes! Let's talk up Jaclyn Moriarty, fellow fan! Jaclyn Moriarty is an Australian author whose sister Liane eventually got more famous on this side of the world because she writes grownup books that get made into shows and stuff, whereas Jaclyn, who HAS written a COUPLE grownup books, MOSTLY writes children's and YA and so gets ghettoized by tasteless people. 🤪 When I first discovered her, she only had the first few Ashbury High books out, which (wrongly) were being marketed as typical realistic YA, so I'd had no temptation to pick them up, until I read an interview with her on a book blog and there was an instant "THIS IS A KINDRED SPIRIT! WE ARE OBVIOUSLY BEST FRIENDS WHO HAVE NEVER MET! ALSO SHE'S FUNNY! Maybe I should actually read one of her books." So I picked up her newest at that time The Murder of Bindy McKenzie (US title--it has a bunch of different titles around the world but always about Bindy) because it had "murder" in the title and was about what today would be referred to as an "autistic-coded" girl so that would be more interesting than straight up realism, and, okay, it was like nothing I'd ever read before. It was epistolary...realism?...but off-kilter, WEIRD. It was both funny and heartbreaking, which is always a nice blend, but my biggest takeaway was just that it was DIFFERENT and I liked it. So I read her other books only to discover they were ALL like that, and also even when there was romance the primary relationship focus was friendship which was really refreshing.

Then she came out with the Colours of Madeleine books which mixed FANTASY into this off-kilter worldview so that got EVEN WEIRDER and more wonderful and just when I thought I'd figured out all the twists it'd hit me with bigger ones out of nowhere! Also they spelled my youngest child's name right! Like Madeleine L'Engle!

By this time I was following her on social media and it became clearer the kindredness was from us being ADHD and loving stories. Whoo! And that's also when I found out she was working on a MIDDLE GRADE FANTASY ADVENTURE! WITH PIRATES! And I was like take THAT me of a decade or so ago that thought our tastes in books didn't overlap! And I can read it to my kids! So I've been reading each Kingdoms and Empires book to my kids and am now trying to get my hands on the latest, but my new library has a smaller budget and I can't get away with buying books just because I want to read them quite as easily. But I do have an excuse, because I'm definitely going to read a few chapters of Bronte Mettlestone to the Summer Reading camp group this summer (the theme is Adventure! How can I not!) So I'll HAVE to make sure we have the whole series...!

Anyway, I'm convinced every last person in the Kingdoms and Empires has ADHD, or at least some sort of neurodivergence, so these stories are truly a delight to read.

Thanks for letting me go off on this topic, anon friend!

[yamagucji]

some tips for writing blogs, especially those who are just starting out. these are some things that works for me and may or may not work for others.

how to add a read more link on mobile

type :readmore: on a free space, then hit the enter or return button

personally i think they’re very helpful because it lessens the space you take up in your dash, and might encourage more people to rb

+ you can also add this on a spot where it gives a sort of cliffhanger, essentially making people want to ‘read more’

headers, banners, and dividers

though not necessary, it’s good to have a title for your work. make sure it’s bold and doesn’t blend in with your notes (aka pairing, warnings, etc.). this also helps when someone wants to look up one of your works in your search bar

i don’t really make banners or covers for my works. but some good apps that i know of would be picsart and canva. if you’re looking for ideas, i definitely recommend going into canva

wondering how to make those really small, thin dividers? you can make them using picsart! to make a divider hit tools > free crop > brush > size (adjust it to your preference > then draw a line along the edge of your photo > save

using the divider you just saved, go back to picsart and edit it again > draw option > hit rainbow square at the bottom left corner > hit suction/droplet symbol right below the check mark > color in the white spots bc for some reason picsart glitches and makes dividers look white-ish

new blog? just opened an account?

this is gonna sound really frustrating. but... tumblr needs to check if you’re a bot or not. what does this mean? it’s likely that your first few posts won’t show up on the search bar. you may not even get to edit your header/pfp yet ://

this happened to me and there was no visibility on my account at ALL. what helped me get ‘verified’ is that i followed a LOT of accounts, liked a bunch of posts, made some posts here and there. now that lets tumblr know you’re not a bot

visibility

the tumblr tagging system usually only allows the first 5 tags in your post to show up. so, what can do you about this? only use FIVE or less tags in your post. wait about 15 minutes or more until you can add some more tags in your post, and they usually all show up like that

another important thing about using tags is not to generalize! especially if you’re using a popular tag. but also don’t specify it too much where barely anyone looks it up. for example, if you’re writing a gn piece about oikawa, i recommend you use the tags such as: oikawa x reader, haikyuu x reader, oikawa x gn!reader, haikyuu headcanons, etc

a good rule of thumb is to use character x reader tags first, then leave the full name or fandom tag last

FOR NSFW: tumblr doesn’t let any tags with nsfw show up. so, give your nsfw works another tag. maybe #namegetspicy idk, you figure it out

FOR WARNINGS: especially if you’re a dark content creator, i highly encourage you to add tw:xyz tags. if you already have a warning note at the top then that’s great. but even better for readers who prefer to actually block these tags that way they never get to see it

another important thing to note is that people have different timezones. it helps if you rb your work at a different time of the day, in case people missed it! (icymi) i’ve noticed that reblogging helps to make your post show up in the tags

interaction + feedback

first and foremost, you are not obligated to write for your followers, and neither are your followers obligated to interact with you. remember that everyone has their own individual lives, and they have their own things to do— so do you, too.

make friends! become mutuals with other writers, visit their ask box. i know it can be daunting having to initiate these things, but you might just turn out to have fun! you can’t expect people to interact with you if you’re not interacting (back). it’s... kind of a two way thing yk? no need to be afraid to interact with other writers. oh, and rb other writers works!

pspsps join tag games or do ask games. it’s fun and very interactive

it never hurts to ask for feedback. i usually do this in a more subtle way because i don’t really expect a full on analysis on my works. maybe a little, is this okay? or feedback appreciated. sometimes it takes a little bit of coaxing for the silent readers

formatting your posts and blog

i generally put in the title at the top in big, bold letters

then comes the header/divider. helps to make the post more... visually appealing ig?

it’s important to add warnings (if any) and the pairing. the audience is not all female, and it might be a little frustrating for male readers having to find out its an x fem reader piece like halfway through your fic

if you have multiple works posted, it’s really really helpful to have a navigation page!

you can organize the posts you make with tags! for example, if you’re shitposting, you can use a specific tag for that. if you have a nsfw related post (ESPECIALLY when your blog is open to the general audience) please make a tag for it

themes + colors

if you have a color in mind but don’t know which direction to go from there, i recommend looking up color + aesthetic

looking to use the same color? download a name color app that’ll give you a hex code for any color you want to use. then, you can type in that hex code for when you’re choosing a color for your tumblr bio

wondering how to make your header image small like mine? just choose a photo for your header and turn off the stretch image option

want to use a different text color that tumblr doesn’t offer? it’s not as complicated as you think. you’ll have to go on a desktop to do this and do some html (but trust me, it’s not very difficult). look up “HTML noob but trying my best - how to use colored text on desktop”

^^ i don’t have the link for the color text tutorial so you can try looking it up

how to make an aesthetic navi and masterlist

step 1: decide a theme! if you’re stuck, think about a character + color/season/mood or look up “[insert] aesthetic” to find some inspiration. or you can try looking at other blogs too

step 2: find a color scheme! it’s easier if you choose fewer colors. if you want to use the same color for both divider and text, download a color name app in order to get the hex code of that color.

step 3: add categories to your navi! most navigation pages include a link to masterlist, about/byi, and rules. your navi should have a title that indicates that it’s... a navigation page. you can add thin colored dividers with the same color to make it easier for followers to navigate

step 4: you can choose to create a ‘cover’ or a picture for your navigation and masterlist! again, i recommend you use the canva app as a starting point

extra: search up emoticon symbols to spice up your titles!

reminder for you as a writer

you’re not obligated to do any of these things. i’ve noticed that we tend to build pressure on ourselves when it comes to content and interaction. remember, this !! is !! for !! fun !! when you realize that it’s no longer fun, then know that it’s time to take a break. and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of self care.

^^ c/p from this post lol

at the end of the day, follower count and interaction doesn’t define you. again for the love of beings, you’re here on your own accord.

will be adding more if needed/asked.

[sukiglycerin]

13 minutes || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero (therefore aged up)!katsuki bakugou x fem manager!reader

* genre: pro-hero!au, smut, this is the longest warning section i’ve ever written, mainly pwp, fluff at the end :>

* words: 2,266 of all this fiLTH

* warnings: AGED UP KATSUKI, ugh tumblr deleted my super long tags so now i must redo them, this is very long & filthy, whew let's go, dom!katsuki, sub!reader, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, office sex, reader is bent over the desk ofc, master/sir kink, a little pet play (he calls reader pet/kitten), dirty talk, degradation, fingering, breast/nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm denial (how contradicting), cunnilingus (f receiving), cum eating (both ends), talks of safeword/colour system but no actual usage, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl!!), creampie, reader is kinda masochistic, pussy slapping, crying sex (no angst here tho), hair-pulling (m receiving if it matters), implied subspace, aftercare !! the best part !!

* a/n: so tumblr messed up sO much while i tried to post this, so i hope you like this! ty @toishi for sticking with me and all of my ramblings while writing this! (and ofc @dylanxmin for her lovely support!!) this is a VERY spicy thing, and almost had actual plot before i cut it out. if you like this, i may do a fluffier pt 2!! enjoy!

being a pro-hero's manager has its perks. the pay's good, the coworkers are pleasant, and travelling is pretty fun. to you, the best part is that you get to see your boyfriend of three years every day.

you've been dating pro-hero ground zero secretly, and you happen to be his manager. honestly, the latter came first in chronological order, but that doesn't matter anyway.

you first encountered ground zero (or as he was called back then, katsuki bakugou) during your time in the business course at ua. he bumped into you quite ungracefully, cursed at you, pushed past you, then let a startled but apologetic kirishima to apologize. it was fate, in kirishima's words. 

such fate led you to manage ground zero five years ago, after slowly climbing your way up from managing smaller heroes to finally reaching the popular ones. bakugou had been the only popular hero with a manager opening; you learned why soon after being hired.

the spiky haired hero had a short fuse and a tendency to cuss. he was picky, indecent, and often reckless with his public image; the calmest you'd ever seen him was when he blew up villains and screaming "die."

however, things change - things change a lot. five years later, you're here: katsuki mumbling sweet things into the crook of your neck as his hands tease the waistband of your pencil skirt.

"katsuki, we can't- you have a meeting in fift- hng-!"

his lips find yours quickly, effectively quieting you down. you're sitting on katsuki's desk - a polished cherry wood thing that took too many weeks to find - as he towers above you, pinning you to your spot.

katsuki pauses, and pulls back, licking his lips. "sounds like a you problem."

"we really can't, this meeting is really important-" bakugou's fingers nimbly find their way under your skirt, deadly close to your panties. he really isn’t paying attention to you.

"and i'm the star of the show, the number one pro-hero-" if he hears you mutter 'that's midoriya,' he ignores you and continues, "-aren't i the most important one here?" his fingers rub your clothed clit, smirking at your audible gasp.

"k-katsuki, no-" you know he can feel the wet patch growing on your panties; from the way his determined eyes lock on yours, you know he won't be finished until you are too.

"how long do we have now, love?”

"thirteen minutes, but-"

"you're going to cum for me three times in the thirteen minutes we have."

it's not a question; it's a fact. you are going to cum three times in the next fifteen minutes.

“once on my fingers,” he puts a finger up, “once on my tongue,” another finger, “and once on my cock. the only thing you have to worry your pretty head about-“ he leans in close to your ear, voice dropping a couple octaves, “-is keeping quiet enough.”

his fingers push your panties to the side with ease and play teasingly with your wet folds. he circles your clit with his middle finger slowly, dragging out each languid movement with a smirk on his face. you flush at the lewd, wet noises he elicits from your pussy. you know that his fingers are coated in your arousal.

you look down in embarrassment, gripping the edge of the desk, and stare at the cotton material of your pencil skirt.

"slut." the word is spat from katsuki's mouth. his hand holds your chin; his touch barely ghosts your skin, but the command still exudes dominance. he tips his hand up, so you're looking into his intense eyes.

"look at me, slut." the word is emphasized by the plunging of three fingers in your wet core. you whine, unprepared by the sudden intrusion. your legs move uncomfortably against the fabric of your skirt, which restricts you from spreading open your legs wider. you want to clamp down on katsuki's hand, but you know that that won't end well.

"patience, kitten." either by intuition or his own frustration, he speaks up gruffly. "all in due time." his thumb starts to knead your aching bud as he thrusts in and out, knuckle deep in your pussy. glancing at the clock, he grows impatient, quickly attempting to unbutton your blouse before ripping off the rest entirely. you'd normally protest - you liked that blouse - but you find yourself falling short of words at the pressure on your pussy. katsuki goes at a more rigorous pace, thrusting fast and deep while his free hand snakes itself under your bra to play with your nipple. the added stimulation has you keening to his touch, suddenly aware of his every touch. he pulls your bra cup down, freeing your breast and bending down to to encapsulate the hardened bud in his mouth. his tongue circles your areola and flicks your nipple; meanwhile, his pace on your pussy hasn't relented. 

soon, you feel the telltale feelings of pleasure bubbling through your body.  you tense against him, gasping out his name and clawing at his back. your knees buckle as your climax washes over you, making your body go limp in his hand. bakugou lets go of your nipple with a popping noise, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his other hand pulls out, and he outstretches three cum-soaked fingers to you, an unspoken code for "suck." you open your mouth obediently, sucking your salty juices off his slim digits. 

"fuck," he cusses, eyes blown out wide in lust. "so fuckin' obedient for me, hm? such a fuckin' whore for your master."

you let go of the fingers in your mouth and nod. 

his non-wet fingers grip the bottom of your skirt. "off. now." 

"yes, master." you feel his eyes pierce you, watching you unzip your skirt and panties and let them pool around your legs. he holds you steady as you step out of the garments and toss them to the side. 

"sit up." he taps the desk lightly.

"it'll get w-w-" 

"did i stutter?"

"n-no, master."

he hums while you acquaint your bottom with the cold, hard wood of his desk.

"colour system, love?" his voice gets soft and he breaks the hard persona. his eyes are gentle, searching yours for any speck nervousness or hesitancy.

"green for 'i'm good, keep going,' yellow for 'slow down,' and red for 'stop.'"

"and if you can't speak?"

"three taps for red, two for yellow."

"what's your colour right now?"

"green, master."

his face hardens at the title. "always a good pet for me, aren't you?"

you nod. "yessir."

he spares another glance at the clock on the wall. "you're going to be a fucking good slut for master in the next 7 minutes, understand?"

"y-yessir."

"what was that, pet?"

"yessir."

"better be. spread." his fingers gesture to your legs.

he kneels before you, your drenched core spread out and on display for him at eye-level.

"so wet," he marvels, making your face heat up. like this, you're completely exposed to him; your breasts free from your bra, nipples hard against the cool air, and your pussy glistening under the light of his office.

he licks a long stripe up your folds, testing the waters. by now, the original intensity of your previous orgasm had worn off; despite this, when his tongue met your clit, you found yourself reaching for his hair, gripping it tightly. he groans into your pussy, poking his appendage through your folds and administrating kitten licks up and down your inner lips to slurp up whatever juices were left. the teasing doesn't last for long, however. he starts to suck harshly on your clit, making you buck into his face in overstimulation and surprise. you cry out at his unceasing ministrations, tugging on his hair and your toes curling. the overstimulation is too much; pain mixed with white hot pleasure blinds you. the lips closed against your clit go hard; you're not even sure how katsuki can breathe going at such a pace. the pain starts to blend into pure pleasure. you throw your arm over your mouth in attempt to stifle your noises, eyes shut tight. you feel tears line your eyes as you cum again, katsuki's tongue pressed flat against your pussy. the pleasure is five times more intense now; you cry out, sure anyone standing outside heard, and clutch katsuki's hair as you recover from your orgasm. your pussy convulses violently, and you pant in a similar manner.

"k-katsuki- master- i-" you breathe hard.

"one more for me, okay?" he rasps into your ear. "i know you can take it, kitten. so good for me..." his chin and lips shine with your essence.

you nod, spreading your sore legs further apart.

"colour?" he checks, hands starting to reach for his belt.

"green."

he nods and unbuckles, pulling his pants and boxers down to reveal his cock. katsuki leans in, hot breath fanning against you as he peppers kisses on your clavicle.

"you're gonna be a good cocksleeve for master, yeah? gonna be all fuckin' tight and wet for me?"

you whimper a shaky "yes," the head of his cock nudging your folds.

he eases his full length into you, the stretch always being something you always need to get used to. katsuki's not particularly girthy, but for what he lacks in girth he makes up in sheer length. he pushes in gently; it's clear on his face he wants nothing more than to ravage you, but he understands your needs.

"f-fuck," you gasps as he bottoms out. 

"ring ring ring," the tone of katsuki's phone rings through the room.

you lean over the desk, reading the caller id.

"it's horikoshi corp?" you say to katsuki.

"pick it up." there's a mischievous gleam in his eyes, but there's no time to dwell on it before you pick up the call.

"is this the office of ground zero?" a male voice asks through the line.

"yessir-" katsuki starts moving inside you, to which you bite your lip. "h-how can i help you?"

"this is regarding the meeting scheduled for today?"

"y-yes?" you gasp, flinging a hand over your mouth as bakugou starts thrusting into your core roughly.

"i'm terribly sorry to say this, but it appears that our boss has come down with food poisoning from lunch."

"don't- don't worry about it-" your knuckles are white gripping the edge of the desk, and you're slightly bent over it.

katsuki continues to hammer into you, speed increasing quickly.

"could we reschedule to friday, at 1:30pm?"

your mind skims through katsuki's friday schedule. "u-um... y-yes-! that can be arranged..." you're not sure if he can hear the wet slapping noises coming from your end of the line - but the thought of him knowing your dirty deeds with katsuki made you even wetter.

"alright, thank you!" the man sounds relieved. "goodbye."

"bye!" you half slam the phone down on the receiver, chest heaving.

"it's your lucky day, huh, kitten?" katsuki purrs smoothly. 

you nod, pressing yourself onto his desk so you're bent over it for him.

"such a fucking slut," you can hear the pride in his voice. "you like that, yeah? i can feel you clenching all around me. you're my fuckin' cockslut, right?"

your head bobs rapidly up and down. "yes, master- i'm-" you feel the familiar heat start to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

"don't you dare fucking cum yet," he growls in your ear, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust.

he presses you even harder into the desk, your breasts pushed up against the cold wood. 

"k-katsuki...!”

"my little pain slut, isn't that right?" 

"y-yes-! f-fuck, master-" 

he slaps your clit, making a loud, wet sound resound through the room.

it almost sends you over the edge. almost.

"don't- cum-" katsuki grunts in between thrusts.

you're so close it almost hurts. the pleasure overwhelms you; you shut your eyes tight to distract yourself, but you can only hear the sound of katsuki's heavy breaths and his cock slamming into you.

"katsuki- master- please, i can't-" tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. the pleasure is just too much, beating into you incessantly.

"you can, and you will," he orders, voice firm.

"k-ka- ka-" you blubber, tears dropping from your cheeks. you know you won't be able to hold it much longer; your pussy aches in need of release. "pl- pl, ka-"

"cum." it was the only word you needed to find yourself toppling off the edge, euphoria rippling over you violently.  tears stream down your cheeks, cum gushing from your heat. you're as limp as a doll in katsuki's arms, slumped against his desk. your pussy throbs, contracting violently - somewhere amidst your orgasm, katsuki had finished as well. your cheeks are wet, blouse thrown somewhere on the ground. your breathing is shaky as katsuki picks you up, stroking your hair delicately.

"hey, honey," he kisses your forehead softly.

you mumble incoherently, eyes drooping shut.

"you did so well for me... i didn't hurt you, did i?"

"no, 'suki.... 's good.... i liked it a lot..." you nuzzle into him, his body warmth comforting. katsuki smells of vanilla and caramel, a sweet combination that feels undeniably like home. 

you don't remember many of the next events well; everything blurs into a haze. you feel him gently thumbing your tears away, slipping your skirt and panties on and buttoning up one of his extra dress shirts on you.

the last thing you hear is a gentle "i love you," and before you know it, you're drifting asleep.

[alistonjdrake]

June’s World Building Cheat Sheet Part Nine: Multicultural

I kind of touched on these subjects before but as I’ve been doing lately I’ve had more thoughts and I want to do a deeper dive. 

Honestly while I’ve been thinking about this for a while and briefly mentioned it in a previous post, it really hit me when I was playing Crusader King’s 3 and my character became the Norwegian-Irish Emperor of Britannia and France, and a lot of my subjects had some qualms with my cultural identity and as I watched areas of England get Norwegian-nized and names changed I started thinking about cultural markers. 

To put it simply, a “cultural marker” is basically just something to quickly pinpoint where someone is from or what their heritage is. Of course these are not always super specific and there is overlap. Like, me saying I speak English does not immediately make it obvious that I’m American. But if I talked about what I grew up eating, regional slang, some things people wore commonly, you would probably be able to narrow it down. There’s also what I tend to refer to as the stereotypical cultural markers so if someone was to say “I’m from X” what’s the first thing that comes to people’s mind that they relate to that place and that culture?

I also started thinking deeply about language and language as an extension of someone’s identity. This also stood out to me in the case of empires or in places were dozens of cultures have blended. At some point, language either is or isn’t an extension of someone’s background but the language someone does speak can say a lot about them or the area they grew up as I mentioned in my last post with regional dialects or when a certain language might be considered the “default” among some characters.

Now, as always, I have to say I do not think it’s extremely pressing to give fantasy cultures so many layers. I don’t think it’s always necessary to have a throwaway line about people speaking multiple languages in your metropolitan city or the fact that the culture is either not a monolith on its own or new people have moved in. Do I think it spices things up a little bit? Of course. That’s why I’m talking about it.

The lack of especially falls short to me in settings, as mentioned, that are empires or densely populated or considered “centers” of the world. How many times have I read a fantasy university or guild settings or these expansive cities and all the characters were more or less from the exact same place, all spoke the same language, pretty much ate the same things, and had the same opinions on anything not a huge plot point. 

So Let’s Talk About Language (Again)

I’m not gonna lie. My nerd brain loved it when my Norwegian-Irish emperor took over England and instead of the names of familiar places changing completely they were just changed to sound slightly more Norwegian while still looking enough like what it used to be. I am upset with myself for never considering this before in my own work or thinking about it when I craft fantasy worlds, especially in settings where one group or place takes over another. The language would change or there would be shifts due to either

The sounds for the original thing they’re trying to say do not exist in their language

That’s simply how they pronounce it

Maybe they were feeling frisky that day and decided to change it just because. 

I think we see this most often especially with borrowed words. When a word more or less exists in several languages maybe because they’re taking on a title or a position, it’s not so much that the word changes but each one has to put their spin on it. Not always intentionally it might just be how they say it given either the limitations of their own tongue or how they heard it. 

In my last post I began to touch on this with the introduction of people speaking the same language differently in my Grazan Escan vs “regular” Escan dialect (the basis of this discussion just that people who live in Graza in my setting speak the language slightly different than non-Grazans which sometimes makes the language hard to understand for even native speakers). Last night I had another breakdown about how much I hate the common tongue and the concept of the common tongue and I’d like to also mention that if there is going to be a “common” language in a setting, I myself tend to use Escan as the common language because Escan is an imperial nation and have intentionally spread their language all over the place so a lot of my characters speak it, I think it is important to have some context as to why a language would be so widespread/ common. Someone would have had to go to these far places and teach people how to speak this language (and somehow walk away with it having no regional differences). Why would people in this setting think it a good idea to even learn this language if they have their own and rarely communicate with people outside of their community? What is the impact of a character having to take up another language in order to? In my recently finished draft of The Night Court, due to my own temporarily fleeting memory I forgot one of the main characters was going to a place where he could not speak the language and spent that entire half of the book asking for translations and not being able to speak to certain characters directly. Which, now that I’m done with the draft I appreciate more because I’ve definitely been in situations where I’m in a new place and my poor planning and education made me the only one who couldn’t speak the language and I had to have friends help me.  

This is where language as an extension of identity comes in. Could this character have assumed that his first language was dominant enough where he could travel to new places and not have to learn anything else? Or was it just bad luck and now he feels isolated in a setting where he cannot speak to anyone? What are the implications behind someone’s first language based on where they live? I just wrote two posts now talking about Prince Toli of the Escana Empire’s first language not being Escan and how that impacted his early life and how he appears by the time we meet him in the books. What does it say about the world characters live in where what language they speak and what language they learned to speak first has such an impact?

And in the reverse, what is the perception of someone being multilingual? It is expected in a setting? It is a bonus? A requirement of certain jobs or positions? A necessity to live in certain areas? Given how much court intrigue and political scheming I write I tend to have characters switch languages to avoid spies or eavesdroppers but on the other hand it’s also easier to make new allies if you extend the branch by speaking their language. 

Are there official languages? Court languages? Trade tongues? Coded languages you’d only learn for very specific purposes? 

Clothes And Culture: Sumptuary Laws & The Fashion Police.

This is a point I missed completely in my fashion post and I’m sorry about that. As with all my “advice” I feel it important to note I don’t ever expect anyone to go the extra mile nor do I usually think people need to. These are just things I like to sprinkle into a setting to give in breathing room or background information so it doesn’t feel like it was created just to serve a story purpose, but that it’s a world people live in. 

On that note. I’m very passionate about clothing. I’m encountered a lot of fantasy fashion in my day and I understand why people don’t ever find it relevant to mention certain things but as my setting is a late 18th century world in which the common people are starting to realize that royalty kinda sucks, it’s something I can talk about.

Like, the extensive labor that goes into making sure my royal characters have 100s of different outfits. Fashion is cheaper than its ever been but that was not always the case. There’s a reason why often see people in ye old days with only like 2 outfits for any given occasion. Characters and people who had constant changes weren’t just fashion forward, they were showing off wealth whether or not that was front of mind. To give some context as a lover of historical fashion and beautifully detailed garments, I did some quick math to see how long it would take me to recreate one of my favorite gowns by and. Given the intricate details, all the delicate beading and lace and all the fabric I’d have to buy (I didn’t even get into costs) it would have taken me at minimum 50 years. 

Now does anyone need characters going around talking about how Princess Zurina is wearing a gown that would have taken one man 50 years if not for the staff of seamstresses who likely work on her wardrobe? No. If a character in a setting is a seamstress or if the story has anything to do with wealth distribution and the extravagance and waste of the super rich, sure maybe throw it in there. One half of the book I’m working on is about political cartoons criticizing the royalty and wouldn’t you know if I go back to the time period I’m basing my work off of, you can find a lot of jokes and slights towards outrageous dress because people back then understand the labor that went into these garments. 

This is where I’m going to mention sumptuary laws. Basically, whenever I do my dives into fashion history I’ll find a lot of policing towards the way people dress. I mean we still have them now but maybe they’re not as apparent to us? And a lot of them used to be more class-oriented. One should not dress above their “means” or status which is where we get certain fabrics or colors meant only for certain types of people. But it also happened in the reverse where certain groups are designated things to wear so other members of the community know who and what they are. People not being allowed to wear certain things either because they would be related to deviance or offensive. Like characters in my setting cannot wear any shade of green around the king because dark green is the Escana mourning color and it would be considered as cursing the king to die.

Are there punishments for wearing the “wrong” thing? Is exaggerated wealth or having too many outfit changes something calls criticism if the character is at the top of the food chain (or maybe criticism them no mater social standing)? Are there any unwritten dress codes in a setting that people unknowingly follow? In settings where multiple cultures might exist or people from different backgrounds exist in the same place, do their choices in dress reflect cultural markers? And is there a stark difference between traditional (to a culture) clothing and modern dress? 

I think really I’m spewing this out because I want to see more culturally rich settings that reflect some of the stuff that I think is the most interesting things about a person which is what they wear and how they speak. But again, this is a personal preference and it’s just stuff I think about. 

[choco-glow]

Aliit

“Like so, riduur…kat-tay-LEER da-RAH-soom.”

“Kat-tay-LIR—”

“Leer, think two ees in Basic. The letter’s a bit weird in Mando’a.” Senya shot Shae a rueful smile, and Mandalore the Avenger threw back her long red braid with a laugh, wispy strays forming an auburn halo about her head. “You’re doing great, riduur; it’s hard picking up a new language, especially when it doesn’t use the same grammatical cues as Zakuulan or Basic.”

“And you didn’t have an overbearing father forcing you to learn everything, Buir.” Arcann drawled from where he was underneath Shae’s speeder, his face striped with oil and a bit of grease, blue eyes bright over his smile. Senya couldn’t help smiling back, warm and happy, because her lone living child was so at peace with his rebirth, with this, with them…Hell, he was picking up Mando’a faster than anyone else on base, but then again, the Mandos had taken him in like a lost son, Shae particularly. Torian chuckled low and rich from his perch atop the speeder, working on the upper half of the engine while Arcann took care of the transmission, and Senya found herself happy to have a second son again, if in name only.

Torian Cadera and his wife, a former Togruta bounty hunter-turned-adopted Mando, had been mostly adopted by Shae, and while Chromi was out and about taking care of things, Torian had elected to help his newly adopted brother with the repairs that Shae had, quite frankly, gotten too old to do. Not that that had stopped her, of course, but Shae had allowed Arcann and Torian to take over, while Senya eased her out, swearing and muttering under her breath about being too old for this shit, etc, etc.

“No, that is true, but still, I should at least be able to say that phrase, Tyth knows you tell me it enough.”

“It’ll come with time and practice.” Senya flushed, just a little at Shae’s sweet, quiet smile, and she took her riduur’s hand, conscious of the fact that she stood almost a head taller than the other woman. Then there was her power in the Force…Senya still felt like the odd duck out, though Arcann had made himself useful enough to blend in admirably. But then, he and Thexan both had felt better with their fellow soldiers on the battlefield, rather than the cold confines of Zakuul’s palace. Vaylin too, though Senya had always been less sure of her youngest…but she shook those sad thoughts away, longing for her children, and knowing that at least they were at peace once more in the Force.

“So it will…How about we go find ourselves a bit of dinner? We’re old ladies now; we can’t skip meals.” Shae pulled a face at that, and Torian laughed, falling back a little at her expression.

“Admit it, Mandalore, you’re no orochick any longer.” She swiped at him playfully, and he grinned, cheeks dimpled and eyes crinkled shut, and Senya laughed, catching Shae’s hands and pulling her closer.

“Old my ass, Cadera, don’t make me swat you like your buir should have.” Shae ruffled his hair, though, grinning despite her protests, and let Senya drag her off, while Senya failed to hide her smile. “I see you smiling too, riduur.”

“Yes, well, it’s nice to listen to you…even if you’re a bit over the top.”

“Hey now, I’m downright boring for Mandalore; trust me, some of my predecessors weren’t that nice. But…eh, that’s old news. C’mon, let’s hit the cantina; that C2 droid found the best chef in the galaxy.” Senya chuckled at that as they took the elevator back up to the main deck of the base, protected by the heavy cliff overhang, with the rest of the Alliance stronghold carved into ancient bedrock. Odessen as a planet was relatively young, and life on the planet hadn’t progressed to sentient yet, which had made it perfect for the Alliance…and having been so young in the galactic record, it was also that rare planet that hadn’t been explored yet, hence the first come, first owned philosophy.

Not that their Commander had claimed the planet for herself…no, Ionial had taken care to file everything neatly, and for a Jedi Knight, that was a rare perk. Then again, she was married to Theron Shan…and as he was the main Operations manager to the whole of the Alliance, Senya had a feeling that paperwork was something that poor couple dealt with even in the marriage bed.

 Certainly, she was perfectly fine shacking up with Shae in her old age; Mandalore had baggage, but so did she, and though they did have responsibilities…they could set them down for a time. Shae, however, nudged her out of her thoughts with a careful touch to her elbow, and Senya glanced down at her riduur, eyebrows raised…and followed Shae’s line of sight to one of the tables in the back room, empty but for a familiar figure in long graying braids, her slender hands wrapped around a mug of tea, her beautiful face pinched with weariness and sorrow.

“…That’s Satele…”

“So it is…Senya, love, how much to you know about the Grandmaster?” Shae murmured as they accepted their drinks, and Senya chewed her lip, reviewing everything she’d learned about the former leader of the Jedi in the last eight years.

“…I know that she was the Grandmaster, and though she still holds the title, she is no longer the speaker for the Jedi. I know that she helped train our Commander…and I know that she’s Theron’s mother.”

“…She’s a hell of a warrior, in the speaking halls and on the battlefield. I’ve gone up against her once, and out of respect, I’ll never do that again.” Shae replied softly, and to Senya’s surprise, the Mandalorian took her hand, guiding her to the room. “And out of respect, I think she needs a friend.” Senya glanced back up at Satele’s face, and even at this distance, Senya could see tears sliding down her cheeks.

“…You might be right about that. A moment…” She leaned over to the waitstaff who took their order, and hurriedly ordered a third meal of Alderaanian stew and fresh veggies, and Shae nodded approvingly. They made their way to the back room, and it was Shae, her eyes frank and kind, who slid into the booth opposite Satele’s seat, and gently clasped the Jedi’s hands. Senya joined her as well, her own long hands joining Shae’s, and that brought Satele’s eyes up slowly, tears streaming down her face, her pain so strong that Senya instinctively reached for the Force to help calm her. That seemed to help, just a little, and Satele took a deep, shuddering breath.

“…Can we ask what happened?” Shae asked gently, her tone as soft as Senya had ever heard it, and Satele gave a weary, wet laugh.

“…I tried to talk to my son, and utterly ruined things. Again.” She swallowed, with difficulty, but cleared her throat and took a shaky breath. “Theron…and I have a…well, complicated is too strong. We don’t have much of a relationship at all. I…when I got pregnant, I didn’t think about him, I didn’t think about being a mother…I was too worried about being found, about figuring out what I could do with him. My master, Ngani Zho, took him and raised him…I stayed for six weeks to nurse him until we’d found a formula that worked, but that was all. And I left him.” Satele’s voice broke at that, and both women slid around to hug her, letting her weep into their arms. Senya’s heart ached for her; she’d been raised with no attachments, to have no attachments, and no matter what the Jedi might say, that was something that damaged the very soul.

For all that she mourned her children, Senya was grateful that she’d been able to love them so fiercely. Not being able to care for her babies like that…it horrified her to her very core. One glance at Shae over Satele’s braids, and Mandalore’s eyes were shuttered, angry, and grieving too. I could hate the Jedi for what they’ve done to people…even the Sith cherish their children.

“I am such a horrible mother…” Satele was whispering now, and it was Senya who shook her head, voice low but fierce.

“You are no such thing. You are a woman who was forced to make a choice, with little regard to your own heart.”

“But…the Code…”

“Blast the Code.” Shae’s voice was as sharp as vibrosteel, and Satele flinched, just a little. “Sorry, but…Satele, you wouldn’t have made that choice if you’d been like me, would you?” Satele froze, and for the first time, Senya sensed someone just outside their door, listening…she closed her eyes, opening her mind, and to her shock, it was Theron. He was frozen on baited breath, his eyes wide, and Senya amplified the sound in that room, just a little, just enough…both Shans needed to hear this.

“…No. No, I wouldn’t have…if I’d been…normal…like him…I’d have kept him. If Malgus hadn’t been hunting me…I would have been overjoyed to be a mother…” Satele whispered, but it was enough; Senya heard a bitten off sob outside the door, and she reached behind her, grasping the younger man’s sleeve and gently tugging.

“Theron, you need to come in here.” She called softly, and he shook, but he obeyed her, watery golden eyes a match to his father’s, wide with worry and nerves…and it was Satele who watched him, tears still burning down her cheeks, who reached out for his hands.

“Theron…”

“…You really would have kept me?” His voice wavered, and Senya clasped his shoulder, willing all the love she could feel pouring from Satele into him, knowing he was only just Force sensitive enough to catch it.

“Yes. Yes, I swear, I would have…I would have needed Master Zho to help, because I was…I had no idea what I was doing…but I would have brought you home and to hell with anyone else.” She whispered, and he closed his eyes, lips twisting in pain. “Theron, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…”

“I’m sorry for what I said…I’m sorry, Mama…” He whispered, and Shae hopped up out of the way to let mother and son embrace tightly, both of them sobbing as the dams broke between them. Senya managed to order a fourth meal too, and when they all arrived, she laid them out neatly. Soon, Theron and Satele had calmed enough to sit back down, this time opposite one another with Senya sharing the seat with Theron, Shae on Satele’s side.

“I know you two are probably exhausted, but you need to eat.” She declared, and Theron’s lips curled up in a half-smile, used to Senya’s Mom skill by now, while Satele managed a wan smile and Shae openly grinned.

“Thank you, Senya, Shae…”

“Yeah, thank you…I’m so sorry I yelled, Mom…” Satele only shook her head, eyes softer now, and clasped his hand.

“You were right to yell about that. I never…” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “I should have talked to you about all of this…really, I just should have talked to you. I know you felt like the dirty secret for years…and understandably so. I treated you as such, and Jace…” Theron sighed, wincing, and she nodded. “I owe you a lifetime of apologies.”

“…No, just the one is good, Mom. You did give me to Zho, and without him, I would have…well. He explained a lot, especially when I flunked out of the temple; he could have told me to bug off, but he kept in touch, helped me get into the SIS, even went with me to get my implants in. And he never faltered when I asked if you loved me; he always said yes, looking me dead in the eyes. I…didn’t always believe him, but he always said yes.” Satele smiled, just a little, and it was Shae who spoke up, having stayed quiet through most of it all, uncharacteristically so.

“He sounds like a good guy…I’m guessin’ he’s gone to the Force, isn’t he.” Both Satele and Theron nodded, twin expressions of pain marking their faces, and Senya closed her eyes, pulling a well of comfort and care from her core and filling the room with it. She had always been a master at controlling her emotions, in no small part because she was so strong with her empathy, and Satele gave her a fragile smile, so shy and tiny, that Senya couldn’t help smiling back.

“Thank you, Senya…and yes, he is. But he went down in battle, as he wanted, protecting his boy.” Theron was picking at his steak now, his jaw tight, but he heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, he did…it…it was hell watching him die in front of me. But I wouldn’t want him to go any other way; whatever else happened, he was a warrior, and he didn’t let any fight go past him without taking a swipe. But he’s at peace now…kinda wish he’d visited, but…I figure I’m doing a good job if he isn’t coming back.”

“Or you two didn’t need me until now.” The voice of an old man, far older than Satele or Shae, even, filled the glowing spot now hovering next to the table, and Ngani Zho, glowing blue and smiling faintly, stepped from the shadows, giving Theron a gentle cuff on the ear, and tweaking Satele’s nose. Both made the Shans break into startled laughter, and their Master smiled fully this time, leaving Shae and Senya speechless. Force ghosts were…a rarity on Zakuul, if at all; Senya had sensed Darth Marr’s spirit on Odessen, alongside Satele at times, but only just, and never had she sensed Thexan or Vaylin…Shae looked almost frightened, and Senya clutched her hand, broadcasting calm.

“So, you two finally talked it over…about damn time.”

“Master Zho…”

“Don’t you give me that, it’s been long enough. Take your time, feel things out, but let the Code go, Satele. At this point, it matters, but not more than your boy…and Theron, so help me if you don’t cut out the swearing—”

“Look, I’m a leader now, I’m gonna swear a lot more—”

“I will appear in front of your wife and complain to her.” Theron froze, and Zho crossed his arms, looking as smug as a Force apparition could. “With her old master in tow.”

“…Orgus passed on.”

“Wanna take that bet, son?” Another crusty old man’s voice sounded, and the former Jedi Orgus, short-haired and taller than Zho, leaned over the other ghost’s shoulder. Theron blanched, while Satele burst into relieved laughter, leaning back and reaching over Shae’s shoulder to give the other Jedi a brush of her fingers. He chuckled and squeezed her hand before vanishing, and Zho smiled down at her.

“Now then, any more complaints I should know about?”

“No, thank you, Master Zho…and thank you for coming to see us.” Satele murmured, and he leaned over to kiss her forehead, his eyes calm and warm, then he leaned over to do the same to Theron, who hugged the old man tight, despite their bickering.

“…Tasiele would have been proud of you both. She loved you so fiercely, Satele, and Theron…your grandmother would have fought tooth and nail to bring you into the Temple from the start…But she left us far too soon. It’s hard, losing your soulmate…” He gave them both a wan smile, Satele’s mouth open in shock, Theron’s eyes wide and his jaw hanging slack, and Zho chuckled. “Never did really care for the Council’s strict policies…maybe that’s why we had a secret marriage, and why when you were born, Satele, we kept things quiet. Kinda blaming Revan and Bastila for starting a line of rulebreakers…”

“Father…” Zho gave a warm chuckle, and kissed his daughter’s brow, then his grandson’s, and vanished once more, his revelation leaving both Shans speechless, while Senya and Shae made to get up and back out. Satele came her senses, and shook her head, taking a deep breath. “Shae? Senya? Please, don’t go…I’m sure that was…absolutely bizarre for you both, but please, stay…” They shared a look, and at Shae’s quiet nod, sat back down; Senya was on firmer ground here, if only just, but Shae looked…spooked, for lack of a better word.

“…So, I’m guessing you never knew…?” Shae murmured, and Satele shook her head, eyes closed.

“I knew my father was a fellow knight, but…my mother died when I was a child, and I was already with Zho as his padawan. He was always just Master to me, but kinder, gentler…at the same time, stricter. Now I understand why…” Theron gave a huff of a laugh, and Satele cracked a smile at him.

“It all makes sense now…Force, it must have killed him to keep that secret to the grave…” Theron murmured, and Satele squeezed his hand.

“I think that’s really why he came back…to prove that we had more than just a shared Master…that there’s always time to fix things.” Theron smiled at that, really smiled, and Senya was struck by just how much like his mother he looked in that moment. He took after his father in eyes and coloring, but his smile was all his mother’s, with a touch of Zho in there in the quirk of his lips.

“Yeah, there is…” He leaned up, kissing her on the forehead, and sighed. “But duty, unfortunately, owns my sorry ass, and I need to go get things in order. Love you, Mama…make this a…thing? Maybe tomorrow?” He asked, sounding so unsure of himself, and Satele kissed his forehead back, both hands cupping his face.

“I love you too, Theron. Go, and call if you need any help at all.” He shot her a weak grin, and sped back off to work, while Satele slumped back into the cushions with a weak laugh. “…You both are looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Nah, just figured you were overwhelmed.” Some of Shae’s easy-going nature had returned, and she motioned for the Jedi to keep eating. “Eat up, no point in wasting good food.” Satele obeyed, and by the time the three women had finished their plates, Senya gathering up all four dishes, Shae was gently rubbing Satele’s shoulders, and Senya knew that look in Mandalore’s eye.

 They’d talked it over extensively over the last six months they’d been together; if there was anyone they might wish to add as a third lover…Satele was first on the list for both of them, and Senya could already feel the beginnings of a dyad between herself and Satele, which, had she not taken the time to research it on the Holonet…

“…thank you both. Sincerely. I…I thought for sure it was all over, that…that Theron would never speak to me again…” Satele murmured, and Senya cuddled up to her other side, rubbing her upper back while the Jedi leaned into them both, melting a little from the gentle touches.

“He’d already came back in the short time we were there…” Senya murmured, and Satele gave her a weak smile, gray-blue eyes weary but relaxed.

“Still. Thank you. For listening. For feeding us…and for not running away screaming at the ghosts.”

“…It was creepy as fuck, but you’re cute enough to make us stay.” Shae sighed out, and Satele burst into laughter, cackling a little as Senya hid a smile. “What?!”

“Oh Force, Shae, I know we were enemies once, but you always know how to make a woman laugh.” Shae grinned at that, looking smug, and Senya just chuckled.

“It’s a strong skillset of hers…just like my empathy is mine. Satele…I can feel the loneliness rolling off of you in waves. It’s been with you for years…” She calmed down, sighing a little, and Senya probed the tentative dyad with careful touches, smiling as Satele closed her eyes and probed back, understanding and a little joy warming between them.

“…so it has. So it has. Your empathy…small wonder you walled yourself off, Senya…” Satele’s eyes were calmer now, and she glanced at Shae, making sure that the lone non-Force user was also in the conversation. “You two…I was surprised to see you two together, but at the same time, I was happy for you…” She trailed off, looking vulnerable now, and it was Shae who spoke up again, this time her voice softer, that familiar rasp Senya’s favorite sound in the world.

“Well, if you wanna give it a shot, riduur, we’d love to have you in the middle. There’s something already with Senya and you, right?”

“How…did you know…?”

“I might not have the Force, but I can read bodies almost as well. And Senya said she’d sensed something the first time she’d met you, a…dayd, right?”

“Dyad, but close enough. A bond, between two souls through the Force. It’s rare…but it’s strong.” Satele bit her lip, worrying at it, and Shae gently took her hand.

“Riduur. Satele. There’s been a bond between us too, we were both just…too indoctrined by other bullshit at the time to see it.” Those blue, blue eyes, warm despite all the storms they’d weathered, watched both her riduur…and her riduur-to-be with a calmness that not even Senya could call up. “I lost my daughters…you lost your whole family. Senya lost everyone but Arcann, and for a time, she’d lost him too. We lost our lovers, and in time, discovered that those weren’t what our hearts had longed for. I had a long time to figure my heart out…have you?” Satele seemed to think on it for a long, long time, dipping her head to stare at her tea; neither Senya nor Shae were impatient, though, holding her hands, Senya radiating love through the bond, Shae’s eyes never leaving Satele’s face.

When those eyes lifted again, though, both women were shocked to see that the storm clouds in Satele’s eyes had parted, leaving sky blue irises, with a hint of gold glimmering in the centers. A warm smile, rich and bright and so lovely it made Senya’s heart ache to see it, and she leaned in, kissing first Shae, then Senya full on the lips, pulling them into her arms.

“…I have. I found where I belong.” Shae grinned, bright and fierce, and Senya laughed, happy as joy from deep within welled up and overflowed, Satele’s power second only to her daughter-in-law’s.

“Good. ‘Bout damn time. C’mon, you two…let’s go let the brats know.”

“Arcann will be thrilled.”

“Torian’ll probably just call me a gold digger, the little shit.”

“…oh crap.” Senya paused as Satele froze, her arm over the Jedi’s shoulder while Satele’s arms were around their waists, and she touched Satele’s cheek, worried.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“…Theron’s going to kill me.”

“Nah, probably just bitch about it. Hey…” Both of them stared as Shae got a wicked grin on her face, and suddenly, Senya understood exactly how Hylo felt whenever Gault opened his big fat mouth. “We could stage a strip Pazaak tourney. Let the kid really understand what trauma is.”

“Oh Force, Shae, no.”

“…I have a better idea.” Satele’s voice was smug, and she pulled out an old datapad, pulling up a file that crackled for a moment before clearing, revealing a tall man with long dark hair in a half-pony tail, his robes a bit disheveled.

“Is this thing on?”

[fenheart87]

manikin

Lukanette 2020 Exchange piece For @the-alice-of-hearts, enjoy! 

Marinette was on a mission,step outside of her comfort zone and again echoed by her technical design professor to be more daring and assertive and bold. She needed to round out her styles and portfolio as much as she could to make herself a more attractive candidate for any applications she submitted or even just expanding her online commissions and bulking her portfolio that way if she chose to start out on her own. It was difficult to just be set in one style and make it big when just starting. Mari figured that she would explore as much as she could before committing to one genre or style, it would keep her far from being burnt out like some of her fellow classmates.

“Hey Nathaniel! Have you seen Juleka?” She called out, walking a bit faster to the redhead who waited for her to join him.

“She was around this morning but I haven’t seen her since. Have you tried calling or texting her?”

“Yup, nothing but silence though. I’m out of touch with everyone’s schedules the more time goes by.”

“Is she complaining she can’t be super Mari and be our everyday ladybug again?” Marc teased, sneaking up and poking the shorter girl’s sides resulting in a squeal.

“Marc!” She smacked a red clad shoulder before they disappeared behind their boyfriend. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop making it so easy?” Nathaniel offered, smirking at Mari’s adorable pout.

“I hate you. I really do. Welp, if Juleka is busy and you’re both too shy to play model and dress up and have proof of it, I guess I need to find a model.”

“I’m pretty much free if you need a mannequin, class ends at three for me this week.” Marc offered kindly, green eyes peeping over Nathaniel’s shoulder.

“Oh wonderful! I found another sample fabric I wanted to try for you!” She did her jump and hip shimmy, ignoring the giggles.

“Only exception being Thursday, that’s date night this week.”

“Fine, have your boyfriend Marc on Thursday, I get your girlfriend Michelle the rest of the week. See you later!” Mari dashed away, giggling as the bright red spots on Marc’s cheeks.

After walking around campus and deciding against searching too far as she still had classes, she was no closer to finding her muse model but it did nothing to dampen her good mood. It was a sign that meant she would just have to explore the in and outs further and stay away from her usual haunts. Instead of using her eyes she decided to let her ears guide her, Marinette glanced around a few times and focused on conversations instead of what people were wearing, hearing the emotions in their voices. With the new mindset, carefully the young designer wandered around and sketched some expressions, new emotions to craft into fabric choices and color schemes to make them come alive as clothing to wear the emotion plain as day. There was a ton of laughter and giggles around her until she got closer to the library. The sound of a guitar drew her in like a sirens song.

Marinette needed a break from all the walking and climbing she had done so far and decided to stop by the library for the few books she had on hold. Skirting around the cliques that hugged the stairs more often than naught, the petite designer made her way into the library. Seeing Max working the check out desk, Marinette bee lined for him, smiling wide enough to crinkle eyes just slightly.

“Marinette, how are you today?” Max greeted, shuffling books around to scan them and write the names on the cards for the reserved items.

“I should have a few books on hold, all fashion related of course, there was one that was checked out but if you could see if it’s been returned?”

“Sure thing, book title, author or DEWY code?”

“There’s several, here’s my card.” Marinette held it out for Max to scan, rocking on heels slightly to a rhythm she could hear every time the door opened.

“Ah yes, you have five reserved and it looks like two have not been checked back on yet. Would you like me to check the return bin?” Max asked, finding the appropriate stack of books and setting them on the counter.

“Yes please, even if we can find one more that makes it easier to study and hopefully pass with flying colors.”

“Fashion has always been a huge part of you Marinette, as long as your heart is in it then you’ll pass with flying colors.” Max smiled at the rare blush on the young woman’s face, “I’ll check the returns for you, be right back.

Marinette breathed deeply to calm her sudden nerves, her friend’s unwavering faith in her abilities always managed to take the designer off guard but she wouldn’t change any of them for the world. While waiting, she filled out the cards for the books in the pile to make Max’s job easier but kept getting distracted by the wonderful music that kept sneaking through.

“I managed to find both luckily, if you could fill these out then you free to chase whatever has you so distracted.” The glint from his glasses made Marinette squeak in embarrassment as being caught.

“Thanks Max!” Quickly she stuffed the books in her backpack and marched at a reasonable pace to the door and only let out the breath she was holding once outside.

Students shuffled to and from the library, stopping to chat quietly or bask in the music for a moment before continuing their way. The solo guitarist was the center of attention, playing a mix of old and new songs. The overall genre seemed to be with the intent to soothe stressed students and teachers alike as they passed by, Marinette could feel herself relaxing and her creative block lifting. Deciding to obey her muse, the slim young woman snagged a bench that was being vacated by a couple who had finished their coffees. Unsure how much time had passed, the designer lost herself to the world of inspiration, completing outlines with notes and vague sketches with the knowledgeable experience telling her to be swift and flesh then out later.

The music had become a soft and sweet ballad, just hovering in the background for anyone to notice or ignore if they were passing by. Marinette took a quick glance at her outlines and notes, polishing little things or rewriting fabric choices, her eyes fell to the musician that she could finally see and she froze. This was exactly what she was looking for, his expression spoke of calm but hid the slight anxiety every time he started a new song. When he suddenly changed tunes and a couple stopped fighting because the music took over made his lips quirk in a faint grin. His clothes were made to blend in, ripped jeans and combat boots topped with a plain Jagged tee and lightweight layered Hoodie. That did absolutely nothing to help hide his hair with the blue tips, was that a tongue ring?! Marinette felt the need to sketch and design and she had to see what color his eyes were.

Swiftly but carefully she put away her supplies and made her way to the musician that was quietly packing away his guitar and removing the tips from his case. The designer caught his attention and when the weight of gaze met hers, Marinette just blurted out what came to mind.

“You’re hot, can I undress you?” With a squeak, she smacked her face with her sketchpad and took a few deep lungs full of air. “I’m sorry! I want your clothes- I just, you were playing and sound sexy- GOOD SOUND! I really like you- YOUR  style it’s mysterious but like nice- I really want to undress you- I mean I-!”

“Deep breaths.” His melodic voice cut through her anxiety like a hot knife to butter. “I’m Luka.”

“Ma-ma-Marinette!”

“Nice to meet your Ma-ma-Marinette. You’re an artist too?” He nodded causally to her sketchbook.

“Yes. Fashion designer. Project.” Few more deep breaths. “I need to branch out and try a new style and I usually create women’s clothes. So my professor told me to challenge myself and your music inspired me and when I looked at you, you’re perfect. That is- I mean, if you wouldn’t mind being my model?”

“So do I get to undress myself or is that your job?” Luka teased with a grin, causing Marinette to hide her face again with a squeak. “I have a crazy schedule but I’d love to help.”

“I have time on Tuesdays from two to five, Thursdays from five to seven and Saturdays after the morning rush so more like three or four to eight.” She rattled off, pulling out her planner to his amusement.

“Okay I’ll have to check my schedule, two of my classes are up in the air. How about we exchange phone numbers and then I can text you what’s my schedules going to look like? It changes week to week.”

“Most musicians do it seems, one of my best friends is a DJ and he takes all kinds of gigs so it’s hard to sit down and catch up.” They traded phones and saved their numbers before swapping back. “Some of this we can do via Skype if needed, you have to be comfortable with the design too and just wearing it to help my grade.”

“Seems like you’ve done this before.” Luka stuffed his phone into his pocket and packed away his guitar, shouldering his case.

“Fashion student, too broke for mannequins so I lure in unsuspecting folk with delicious free pastries from the best bakery in town.” She teased with a huge grin.

“Well then, I look forward to those pastries.”

Waving, they went their separate ways and Marinette had a skip in her step that had been missing due to the stress. Texting her other friends that were her usual models but this time with ideas of clothing to compliment the designs she had drafted for Luka. Everyone had a positive response and she had just enough people for a full collection, Marinette was sure to blow this project out of the water.

- - - 

Luka stared down at his phone with a smile. As far as first impressions go, he didn’t think negatively of Marinette. It was easy for the musician to recognize the spark of creativity making her blue bells shine and the dark circles the byproduct of sleepless nights from the muse keeping her awake to do her bidding. Her song was the dead giveaway, it was beautiful but unfinished with the crash of crescendos and decrescendos in spots, showing she was afraid to stay loud and bold.

“That had better not be another cat meme.” Juleka muttered, sliding into the booth across from him.

“Nope, I just got asked to undress for a pretty cute girl.”

“What girl wants to see you naked?”

“Not naked, she wants to dress me up.” Luka corrected, waving the waitress over so they could order. “Caramel cappuccino and one hot fudge vanilla shake.”

“Design student or art student?” Luka had no trouble hearing his sisters mumbles, even over the din of the coffee-shop.

“Design student, I guess she felt a good vibe with the music I was playing and she got bit by the creative bug.”

“Not the only one that got bit.” Juleka smiled innocently as the waitress set down their drink orders. “When’s your first fitting?”

“I don’t know, I told Marinette I would text her my schedule for the week once I figure it out.

"Well them, you had better bring me back an eclair and a chocolatine, try the macaroons.” With that cryptic advice, Juleka took her drink and left her brother confused. A ding from his phone had him opening a picture of a very familiar face forwarded from his sister.

Is this the ‘go get em tiger high-five from you?

You hurt her and you’ll answer to your future sister-in-law.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

[maybe-homestuck-now-or-something]

I wanna connect the ideas in this post with the ideas in this post because they seem relevant to each other.

to give a basic idea of what's in each one, the first is a post that talks about how homestuck is notable as a creative work that effectively uses the language and format of the internet, in a way that resonates well with people who grew up online. my addition extrapolates to talk about how this quality also made homestuck's style of content creation appealing for others to use, and spawned a lot of creativity from the fans. basically, homestuck is a collage, not just of images, but of methods for delivering information to the audience. it uses a broad variety of experimental techniques, but the purpose of them is to make storytelling accessible. in order to convey an idea, you can use any method you want... whatever suits your purposes. by constantly varying the type of art, writing, and formatting that the story uses, it keeps the story from getting boring for the author and the audience. varying the quality and style of the visual art also implicitly accepts and encourages any kind of artwork, at any level of skill or effort, from fans. and at the same time, the story pioneers new techniques that I legitimately haven't seen used before. at some points it even leverages the design of the web page itself to service the story... it's awesome. this gets people thinking about how to tell stories in non-traditional ways, and further encourages the act of being experimental with your storytelling methods, and having fun exploring your chosen medium.

the second link is mostly just me talking about the merits of homestuck's early acts, and at one point I put a particular focus on the idea of science in homestuck. specifically, I was talking about how homestuck handles science in a way that feels very childlike, which is a positive remark. when you're learning about science in school as a kid, efforts are made to present the material in a way that is fun and interesting... and you're given a lot of tools for exploration within the context of science classes, which a lot of people don't really experience having outside of a school setting, if they aren't going into some branch of science for their career. I was observing that homestuck's aesthetic kind of calls to mind the feel of learning about science as a kid... something about the stark readability of the objects and characters, and the bright color coding of things that are important.

the connection I want to make between these two posts is that homestuck hinges a lot of its interest on the concepts of exploration, and creation. it holistically includes a lot of different themes and ideas, and it does it in such a way where the characters don't have to make it explicit... more often than not, you'll end up thinking of it yourself. homestuck simply introduces elements, and lets you form your own ideas. it puts a lot of stuff out there, and links it all together in this messy web of interconnectivity.

for example, check out this post where I added some commentary about the punch card alchemy system, and how it links the concepts of technology and philosophy. the idea is that captchas determine your humanity... but unlike real captchas, which do this by making you read something that a computer can't read, it instead makes you think in a way that a computer can't think. in order to give you access to items, this crafting system requires philosophical justification for the creation of said items. grist isn't just made up currency that exists to make you work for what you make... the amount of it that it takes to make something is only high if you think that the object you're making should be too powerful or important to be gotten for cheap. you prove your humanity by having a psychology that can assign the object meaning, and thus, value.

or what about the broader themes of biology and mythology in homestuck? there are many mentions of genetics... the goal of the game is to produce a universe via breeding, and there are the origins of each of the kids, or the fact that the chess pieces that fight on Skaia's battlefield are made in test tubes in the labs in the furthest ring... etc. but this theme also exists symbolically in the players of each session. they are people who bring their identity with them into the process of making a new universe. each player is given their own planet, which is responsive to the person it's meant for, and features a personal quest for them. and once the new universe is made, the players will preside over it as deities, and help define its culture with their values, interests, and personalities. in this way, homestuck blends the concepts of biology and mythology. in a biological sense, the kids provide the universe with traits. if they are strong/adaptable/resourceful enough to win their game, they get to pass on their influence to a universe of their own. this is why it is relevant that all the players' chumhandle initials are some combination of A, C, T, and G, which are the letters denoting nucleotide bases in DNA. but this concept also applies to heroes going through trials or completing quests to prove themselves worthy of being known as heroes. SBURB's lore automatically mythologizes the players in the role of legendary heroes to the consorts and carapacians, which pushes them to step up to the task of earning their title, and in doing so, complete the game's objectives... and the game gives them the tools to do it.

really, science, mythology, and religion all wrap into each other here in terms of the way things are named and explained. the punch card system and the frog breeding are both referred to as "alchemy" at various points, which indicates both magical and scientific roots. and the highest title that the players aspire to obtain in the game is "god tier" which implies a sort of religious connection between the players and the game's native characters who know them as legends. the magical abilities that the characters display are ambiguous as to whether they are magical, divine, or something else entirely. a lot of them are defined heavily by a character's personality and identity. the malleability of the different elements that homestuck juggles works entirely in its favor... and all of it is geared towards this sense of growth and creativity.

in homestuck, these things exist on micro and macro levels. the growth of one kid into a slightly different person as they get older, vs. the growth of an entity that will encapsulate the universe. the creation of a piece of music, a drawing, a story, a machine, a person, a plan, a planet... it all just keeps escalating, but it's all rooted in specific characters doing specific things, so we don't get lost in it all. the characters bring it all back around, letting us focus on their smaller actions while the bigger plot remains in motion. and all of this exists at the same time as all the surface level reasons to enjoy homestuck. the comic is funny, and charming, and made to be enjoyable as that. but the fact that the broader elements color the tone of it all, leaves you with the impression that there is a lot of potential in every situation. potential places for the characters to go, or things for them to do, or people for them to talk to, or things for them to make, or even ways to grow and change themselves.

and there's potential for you too. you could throw your ideas at the wall to see what sticks in this exact same way. part of reading homestuck is feeling a sense of recognition and identification with the characters. many of them are based broadly on the kinds of people who make up homestuck's audience. with interests in things like music, art, writing, RPing, programming, playing games, watching movies... they're meant to represent you, in part as parody, but in part as a way to make you feel seen and included in this narrative. as lofty as some of these concepts may seem, the people who engage with them in the text are a bunch of dumb awkward teens. you are at least as accepted as they are, and people love these characters a lot, often in spite of/because of a lot of cringey qualities or major character flaws. homestuck is here to tell you not to be self conscious. play around with your world. make your art. write your story. think your thoughts. be funny and laugh at stuff. don't be afraid of doing it badly.

this is what an accessible creative process looks like.

[writemarvelousthings]

Operation Babysitters

Name of piece: Operation Babysitters

Square filled: Bed-sharing

Rating: (General) 

Warnings: A lot of fluff and slight pining. 

Summary: You’ve been asked to babysit Steve and Peggy's daughter with Bucky, how will you cope with your feelings for Bucky when you have to look after a mischievous three-year-old with a stubborn streak? 

Created for: @buckybarnesbingo

A/N: Listen I LOVE the bed-sharing troupe but I wanted to put my own spin on this. Slightly AU as this is set after CATFA and everyone survived and lived on happily. I love 40s!Bucky and I’ve wanted to write something for him for the longest time! I hope you all enjoy! Big, big thank you to @bucky-plums-barnes for helping me brainstorm this idea!! 

Gif not mine made by the amazing Gen! Thank you, darling!

You smiled at the tiny blonde head of curls running around her ‘uncles’ feet.

“Sarah honey you gotta slow down, Uncle Bucky isn’t as young as he used to be” under normal circumstances Bucky would have told Steve exactly where to go. But with ‘delicate’ ears around Bucky's response was more guarded. A warning stare and a soft grunt as the tiny toddler slammed into his legs.

“Darling please be careful” in all the years you had known Peggy she still managed to look glamorous. Even caked in mud on the front line in France not even her lipstick smudged. Feeling a wave of self-consciousness you wiped your sweaty palms down the front of your navy slacks, the peach blouse was new and probably not the most ideal item to wear chasing a three-year-old around for the next few hours.

“Ah come on Peg, we'll be fine” you grin at the brunette who gives you a questionable look.

“Yeah, we’ve taken down secret Hydra bases with Captain America we got this” Bucky slapped his right hand on Steve’s shoulder. The action drew your attention to the lack of limb on his left, you had all pleaded with him to talk to Stark. Amazing advances have been made since his fall,  but his answer was always the same.

“But it would clash with my rugged good looks. Plus I could still take your punk ass with one arm any day of the week Stevie”

Every time his response would ignite the same reaction inside you.

“You’re perfect to me, I don’t care if you had three arms or no arms. I love you regardless”

Steve rolls his eyes, shoving Bucky’s arm off his shoulder, a small scuffle ensues as you scoop Sarah up in your arms. Brushing her blonde curls away from her big brown eyes you still marvel at how much she was a perfect blend of her parents.

“You be good for your Aunt and Uncle my darling” Sarah giggled as her Mother pressed her red lips to her pudgy cheeks. Not a trace of lipstick transfer insight, Steve presses two kisses to his daughter's nose and cheek.

“Behave Pumpkin, I want a good report when we get back okay?” Sarah grinned give a tiny mock salute that melts your heart.

“Bye Mama, bye Pa” you hitch Sarah higher on your hip, waving as Steve pulls out of the driveway and peels out into the slowly setting sun.

“Now how do you girls feel about spaghetti for dinner?” You give Bucky a grin as Sarah squeals at the prospect wiggling out of your arms and padding towards the kitchen.

“Spaghetti?” You arch a brow at him, closing the door with a soft thud following the never-ending energy that was Sarah Rogers.

“What? It’s the only thing I can cook. Plus I know you’re good with your hands 24” your stomach flips, pausing in the hallway.

“(Y/N)?” Bucky’s voice is soft, the lamp lighting bathing him in a warm glow. Hair free of gel, falling in soft curls around his forehead.

“Sorry, it’s just... no one has called me that in a long time” Agent 24 was your code name during the War, once the SSR disbanded there was no need to keep it during your new role at Shield. Taking the title Special Agent or simply Blackbird. The name Agent 24 brought back a flood of memories, not all of them good. The day Bucky was found half-frozen caked in blood springing to the forefront of your mind.

“Hey it’s okay, I get it” the warm hand on your hip brought you back to present day so fast it almost gave you whiplash. Your lips form a tight smile as you gently pat your hand on top of Bucky’s, he squeezes his fingers into the fabric of your trousers and for a moment. Just a moment, you allow yourself to fall deeper into the security of his sky blue eyes.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you..” your eyes fell to Bucky’s lips, the pink tip of his tongue poking out for a brief moment as he swallowed thickly.

“Auntie (Y/N) I can’t find my colours” the high trill of Sarah’s voice snapped you both out of the warm fog clouding your minds.

“Coming sweetie” giving Bucky once last smile you reluctantly come to the three-year-olds rescue plucking her box of crayons off the bookshelf.

                                                          ~~~

For the rest of the night, you couldn’t help your mind wander back to the moment you shared with Bucky in the hallway, brushing Sarah’s hair back gently you smiled watching the young girl face the battle all children face every day. Trying to stay awake. You nudge Bucky slightly making him tear his eyes away from his place of The Princess and the Pea. Sarah Rogers had a stubborn streak to her (Bucky swears it’s because she’s a Rogers and Rogers have universally known thick skulls)

“Peanut I think it’s time for bed” Bucky gently snapped the book closed with his hand. Gently passing it across to you to place on her bedside table. The small bed was a squeeze normally with you and Sarah on it. Adding Bucky’s broad frame it was almost ridiculous. Both you and Bucky had a leg placed on the ground to anchor yourselves.

“One more.. pwless Unkle Buck”

“Your Pa will have my other arm if he finds your still awake when they get home” you chuckle as Sarah turns her big brown eyes up to her Uncle.

“Will you stay wif me?” You slowly start to detangle yourself from the two of them. The wireless calling your name as you knew Sarah favoured Bucky staying with her while she fell asleep.

“Both of you” the sound of the tiny pleading voice rooted you to the spot, throwing a slightly panicked look to Bucky who shrugged helplessly.

“Of course honey” it took a few tries but both you and Bucky found yourself looking face into each other. The small body wedged firmly against you. Sarah’s face presses up against Bucky’s chest and suddenly you felt very jealous of the three-year-old.

“Would you have guessed during those years in Europe we’d end up here?” You almost didn’t catch Bucky’s soft low voice, finding yourself too lost in his eyes.

“What, all of us safe and alive living the lives we deserve?” You chuckle, shifting slightly to lay your head on the pillow.

“Yeah, kinda scary if you think about it” you smile knowingly, glancing down watching Sarah’s breathing evening out.

“So what did you..”

“Before when I said..” biting your lip you watch as a slight flush crosses Bucky’s cheek.

“James Buchanan Barnes, are you blushing?”

“Don’t tell anyone, I got a reputation to maintain”

“Your secret is safe with me” something in Bucky’s eyes changes, a softness you’d only seen reserved for Sarah. It makes your throat dry up and your palms sweat, subconsciously you wipe a hand against your pants. The moment goes unnoticed by Bucky who gently takes your hand in his, your fingers naturally lacing together.

“I wanted to ask you something, but the moment never felt right. Watching you take on those five Hydra guards, I just knew you were something else. A woman that could hold her own but had this other side to her, the side you show Sarah” you could feel your throat constricting as you squeeze Bucky’s hand.

“Oh James..”

“Just let me get this out darlin, cause if I don’t I never will. I know we’ve known each other for a long time. You’ve.. you’ve been there for me through my worst and I just.. I’d really like to take you out one and maybe I can call you my girl one day…” you try and open your mouth but you realise Bucky is on a roll.

“And if you don’t want that. If you want to call me a stupid one arm idiot you can because I’d rather be your friend than loose.... Ommpf” Bucky’s rant was cut short but the press of your lips to his, eyes comically widen before slowly closing leaning into you slightly. You could feel your heart explode in pure joy, years of longing and yearning for the man you were completely and utterly head over heels for had finally come to a beautiful crescendo.

“Mmm,” the soft high pitched hum was like a bucket of cold ice being poured over you as Sarah shifted in her sleep. Quickly you both pulled away, horrified at the thought of Sarah waking up.

“Let’s not tell Steve about that one” You presses your face in the pillow, muffling your laughter as Bucky chuckled softly. Once you had calmed your heart down to a normal beating rhythm you turn to look at Bucky, his warm smile greeting you.

“I’d love to be your girl one day Bucky” the warm smile turned blinding.

“I’d really like that Darlin”

                                                           ~~~

“I’m sorry Steve but I’m the Director I can’t not talk to him”

“But he’s infuriating Peg, I’ve seen filing cabinets with more charisma!”

“You’re always so dramatic” Peggy can’t help shaking her head at her husband.

“Yeah but you married me didn’t you,” the brown eyebrow arching says all Steve needs to know as he wraps an arm around his wife’s waist.

“A decision I still debate was a good one or not”

“Careful Mrs Rogers” Peggy pushes Steve in the middle of his chest, still mindful of there house guests. Not wanting them to walk into their compromises position.

“Where are Bucky and (Y/N)?” the quiet of the house alerting the two of them.

“They’ll be around, I’ll check on Sarah” Steve leans down, capturing Peggy in a kiss laced with a promise of later. Silently opening his daughter's bedroom door Steve shakes his head affectionately, there on his daughter's bed, with no sign of said daughter he noticed. Was his best friend and the woman he had been pining for since ‘43. Bucky’s right arm thrown over (Y/N)’s waist, his face pressed against the back of her neck as the sleep soundly.

“Steve” Peggy’s voice draws Steve’s attention to their shared room, moving across the hall Steve smirks as his daughter curls up against his pillow. Waving Peggy’s confused expression as she investigates Sarah’s room Steve gently rouses his sleeping daughter, his heart-melting as those big brown eyes blink up at him.

“Hey Pumpkin, I take it the mission went well?” Sarah nods, scooting onto Steve’s lap pressing her face into his chest.

“Mmhm, did just what you said Pa”

“Do you mean to tell me you used our daughter as a pawn in getting our friends together?” Steve at least had the decency to look sheepishly towards his wife.

“Some people need a little push Mommy” Peggy gave a fake sign of annoyance. Her daughter was more like her father every day.

“Guess we’re all sharing the bed tonight then” Steve pouted slightly as Sarah gave a small cry of joy, making herself comfortable in the middle of the large bed.

“Don’t look so offended Captain, consider this your punishment for meddling”

[borisbubbles]

17. CZECH REPUBLIC

Benny Christo - “Kemama”

So first off, thank you for the nice commens. 😇The past few months haven’t been the happiest time for me, so thank you for your patience as I scraped my bearings together for another post! 😁

So I will now extend that same sympathy to Benny Christo, whom I think I damn fucking underrated. Let’s jump in~

ENTRY ANALYSIS

As one may expect i INSTANTLY liked “Kemama” because you know, it’s a fun, laid-back, tropical afro-breeze, completely different from anything else we would see in NFs and the year. EXACTLY the type of song I was hoping the Czech NF would deliver (and deliver they did, see NF Corner). This level of mild like swung into strong unironic like upon realizing that the title is a contraction of “Okay Mother” 😍 and the song deals with the subject of overcoming racially-tinged discrimination and rising above the hate. That just feels very poetic and apt? “Kemama” felt like the entry that had to overcome the highest odds in order to earn the respect it so fully deserves, and still hasn’t fully reached it.

.In our Western European bubble, comprised mostly of gays and left-liberal straights, we have a very grateful and universal acceptance of many different kinds of [lizard] people that make up Eurovision casts. Yet with “Kemama” we may have reached  an unusually grimy undercurrent of coded racism. 

Of course nothing I read was outrageously rancid, than Cod for that. The worst statement I read was a double-whammy of “EWW THIS ISN’T CARIBBEANVISION” and “WHY WOULD SOMEONE FROM *KENYA* WANT TO REP CZECHIA IN EUROVISION?”, and yes they first got the continent wrong and then *also* got the country wrong in the follow-up post and then they were torn limb from limb by a pack of aformentioned left-liberals. I’m sorry but i can’t not have any other response than laughter in the face of yet another fucking MORON faceplanting themselves with words like a... racist JK Rowling if you will?

Still, while I never read something outright vile about Benny doesn’t mean I found his deniers really annoying and they were! Think “Ew Solovey is ‘Too Aggressive’ it will NEVER DO WELL IN ESC”, a statement that isn’t coded nor racist (and yet extremely false and misguided), functioned as a similar idea by the same minds. A statement borne from the same breed of narrow-minded stubbornness which has caused elitist morons to be all “there is **SOMETHING** about “Kemama” i do *NOT* like and I cannot lay my finger on it... but I **DO NOT** like it at ALL. It won’t ever qualify because everyone will think the same way I do” -- Eurovision snobs, tiptoeing around racial coda in January 2020.

 They would also insist that Benny was “arrogant” because he was seemingly impervious to their (de)constructive criticism. Like, if you were a biracial butterfly living in a slavic country who had to deal with statements such as the above on a regular basis, you WOULD block out the noise. And if you heard them often enough you will start to block them out pre-emptively. DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW COPING MECHANISMS WORK?? (oh wait you’re white-privileged. Nevermind 🙄)

 So naturally, when Benny decided that he would revamp “Okay Mother” by adding in MORE African elements it only made me love him even more lol. 😍 Was it a bull-headed, contrarian and possibly really stupid decision? Yes, yes and absolutely yes. Was it worth it? Well he managed to incite even more meltdowns in a group of people I feel nothing but contempt for, so hell yeah? Eurovision was cancelled anyway so who cares how much ‘worse’ “Kemama” actually got. 

Okay, so we’ve arrived at the revamp.

Granted, it wasn’t the best ‘vamp, I’d be a fool to deny it. The new elements threw a wrench in the melodic balance of the song. Out went tropical laid-back fun, IN went that fucking guitar oh my god this is some Hotel FM piano levels of overbearing I swear. (nb: this still didn’t stop me from ironically stanning Hotel FM’s lame asses anyway 😍). However, it made the personal backstory that I loved and savoured take a backseat to the now inferior composition. 😭

Regardless, New Kemama was fundamentally the same song, and I fundamentally liked Old Kemama, so whatevs, it made no different to me. In the eyes of many Eurovision diehards we were experiencing WORST PRESHOW SEASON EVER (after three songs... lol) and nothing clinches this brainworm more than a revamp announcement. “OH MY GOD HE WILL RUIN IT! I CAN GUARANTEE YOU I *WON’T* LIKE IT”. Self-fulfilling prophecies, ya know? It certainly didn’t help when the official channel accidentally uploaded a vid with broken soundmixing (‘OMG HORRIBLE LAST IN THE SEMI!!!!’ calm the ever-loving HELL down) and took another FULL WEEK to upload the correct vid. The damage had already been done. Typing "SEE I TOLD YOU THE REVAMP WOULD BE SHITE HA HA HA” in the Kemama comment box really just is the ESC equivalent of reponding with “Actually, *all* lives matter :smug:” to a BLM support pamphlet, isn’t it?

NF CORNER

While not my favourite NF of the bunch, I found the Czech NF to be lowkey epic. Not epic enough to remember its name but regardless Czechvision or whatever marked the end of an era because it was also the last selection spearheaded by Jan Bors :o

I think I’ve made it clear enough in the past that I’m somewhat mixed on Bors Era Czechia - Lake Malawi were a toetapping good, Ickolas was a pockmarked, skin-crawling evil and the other three inhibit a purgatory somewhere between “moderately nice” and “moderate timewaste.”

Still, I have great respect for the man who orchestrated Czech’s comeback after scoring NINE POINTS TOTAL across three years with the mindset of “So what? Why says we can’t win?” so ofc I was all into the idea of the “EIGHT INDIE ANGELS, HAND-PICKED BY BORS HIMSELF” NF that would serve as his swan song.

Naturally things went down the drain the second Bors left, with one of the eight peacing and his successor cancelling the live broadcast (does anyone remember what exactly happened? I vaguely recall one was the cause of the other but lol it’s July can’t be bothered to factscheck (Factsczeck?) anymore, bitches.

Anyway, ON TO THE GOOD STUFF, and yes, there was plenty.

We All Poop - “ All the Blood (Positive Song Actually)”

Yes, as you can imagine I ofc IMMEDIATELY fell into like when I saw that chyron and invisioned the inevitability of the Czech Rep’s Rep immediately alienating every parent just based on their name alone <3 😍 w/e WAP quickly became that “Good but not great” song you find in every NF that everyone gushes over because it’s the whitest option available. Like, yes, “All the blood” is good, but musically it’s identical to Green Day and Twenty-One Pilots and god name ANY 90s-early00′s American Punk Rock band. For me the enjoyment came from the fact that WAP were openly crazy vegan fundamentalists and the VC clip actively condemns the use ANY animal protein by replacing the cattle and game with LITERAL HUMAN BEINGS. 😍 :fusedmarcintensifies: :kasiamosage:

Pam Rabbit - “Get up”

Ohhhh YES a glorious experimental Synth-Trap song only I could love and ofc I did. God what is there even to say; the provocative darkness of the verses combined with the swirling amorphousness of the chorus gives me LIFE. LUFF THIS SHIT <3333 Ftr, this was also the fave of Slovene Juror duo / synth angels / Boris faves ZALAGASPER, further proving their pathetic naysayers that they own all things music and the haters can suck a series of-

Barbora Mochowa - “White and Black Holes“

Lol, yes even with a “Get up” existing, there was a song I liked even more. Barbora proved a very competent Lana del Gay last year, but I was a YUGE fan of this year’s... Kate Bush-Björk blend of ethereal awesome. It is so soothingly beautiful and the rare example of a song that I find completely free of flaws. Were the competition not such a hard place, I’d be pissed she didnt win (at least she won the jury vote MASSIVE KUDOS to every alum on that) but w/e this selection had opions and I’m rather robbed of a “Kemama” than I am of a BRILLIANT IRREPLICABLE AETHERBALLAD. ~Danse balance sûr les white and black holes~

Elis Mraz & Cis T - “Wanna be like”

I *VERY* strongly felt that if the Czech Republic wanted to win ESC, they should have picked Elis and even now I STILL believe she could have won. That isn’t to say I gushed over “Wanna be like” because I find it kind of annoying lol. Yes, I LOVE an annoying female voice (:Tones&Icackle:) but Elis’s reaches a Camilla Cabello sort of place for me (good lord get Senorita OFF the fucking radio) and the Scat + White Guy Rapping middle-eight. 😬. However, the second I opened up the video clip for this paragraph and was immediately BLASTED by Elis murdering a ukelele and wearing a  “schoolgirl” outfit straight from a Japanese tentacle porn movie and OH MY GOD THE AGGRESSIVE TWERKING made me reconsider that hey, this min-sized Meghan Traynor actually kinda highkey owns, yo!  Yet, I’m not at all bothered we lost her in the Czech NF because we got UNO DOS QUATRO CINCO SEIS :fatmansplit: fill up the megameme slot instead, so...

Eurovision 2020 vs Eurovision 2021

BENNY RUINED HIS SONG AND NEVER WOULD HAVE QUALIFIED. jk I’m not a moron. Sure, “Kemama” wasn’t an easy sell because you know AFROBEAT in a contest where half of the people watching are fash (ie: all of Eastern Europe, who watch out of ~Nationalistic Sentiment~ 😬), but there are Kemama live renditions out there and he owns them SO hard lol. A few soundmixing issues really would not have stopped Benny from qualifying in that RIDICULOUSLY WEAKSAUCE SEMIFINAL are you fucking kidding me. He probably would’ve bombed in the Grand Final, but I mean it’s Czech and it’s not Ickolas so ofc it would have.

And Czech renewed him for 2021 regardless of the sceptics, woohoo! I think part of it was due the Czech not wanting to re-organize an ENTIRE NF from scratch without Jan Bors, but probably also because Benny owns live when he isn’t engaged in psychological trench warfare with actual human detritus <3 and also because the Czech fucking CARE about their artists and don’t drop them like a sack of rotten potatoes wtfshitprus.

Can’t wait for the moment when he qualifies and Efendi does not, etc, etc. 

FREAKY! FRIDAY! FACTOR!

I’d say that the core around which the Ben Drama spun was pretty standard fare: niche fave beats out the concensus fave, meltdowns ensue, people convince themselves it was the WRONG decision because it wasn the result they wanted, try to disown the song and make a fool of themselves because the song slaps, sorry. Even the revamp drama felt more of less generic for me, because yawn fantards melting down over a revamp of a song they don’t even like what else is new.  

However, what I do take away that the revamp was ENTIRELY Benny’s idea which he told no one about (cue to JAN BORS having a social media meltdown like he’s Caesar at the Ides of March 💔) added MORE afrobeat just to troll his haters even more <3  God, I’d say it was bad from a musical perspective but this level of in-your-face defiance is fucking iconic and hilarious, sorry. This entire this year is so batshit bonkers that the concept of a someone potentially shooting themselves in the foot and “torpedo’ing” their qualification chances  (not rly, he would’ve Q’d anyway lol) JUST to take the moral high ground in a racially coded argument only HE took seriously may not even be the craziest concept in the year! (lol it definitely isn’t. Look at the pics I haven’t greyed out yet)

This and more yield Benny some well-earned Senheads! Yay!! 

Score: 3 Senhits out of 5.

[danwhobrowses]

Ghost of Tsushima: Thoughts, Ideas and Hopes for DLC and Sequels

So I recently Platinum’d Ghost of Tsushima, I finished the story last week after 30 entries of livestreams which saw a whopping viewership of at most 2 people including one asshole that decided to spoil the end of Act II before I got there because I was playing stealthy and the way I wanted to play. But then wrapped up the Achievements on my own time. After a bit of stewing I’m ready to talk gush about it, including what I liked, a small bit of stuff I disliked and stuff I would suggest for future DLC and Sequel(s)

Spoilers for the Game, unlike that Commenter on my Stream I will not Spoil you on this, it is truly something you should experience for yourself

Because Good Lord, What A Game. Easily my Game of the Year, which compared to all the big hitter titles released is amazing, I mean Crash Bandicoot could still blow me away and Cyberpunk, Watch Dogs, Godfall, AC Valhalla and Miles Morales in waiting but probably not in this way. It is a magnificent game, one made with fantastic care and beauty, but before I go all out, let’s get the negatives out of the way 出る杭は打たれる。: A Flawed Masterpiece Ghost of Tsushima is brilliant but not without its faults. Most of these faults are admittedly minuscule and fixable, but until they are fixed they remain flaws. The biggest disappointment for me with the game was the lack of Japanese lip syncing. I loved the Japanese track, it also highly appealed to me to hear One Piece’s Roronoa Zoro voice Jin, but you have to kinda avoid looking at the mouths because it doesn’t match up, the models still speak in English and it’s a heavy shame that can kill some immersion. I guess they didn’t have the finances for it, because they could’ve done the lip syncs at the same time as they did the English ones if they had the Japanese track too. Combat for the most part was great, aiming could be wonky at times and Jin’s attacks didn’t carry on to a 1 foot ledge, but my main gripe with combat was the Camera getting in the way. It was adjustable most times, but other times it was not. Doing standoffs in the tall grass was night impossible at the later stages without the knees giving us a tell, one standoff I had was completely obstructed by a tree - I’m not making it up, a tree was literally all I saw for the Standoff. You lose so much health for failing a standoff too, bit harmful in later levels. The remaining issues are probably more personal, I didn’t quite like some of the sword kit designs - the ones with fluffy sleeves and I didn’t really like the armor dye you get for 100%ing the achievements, some weapons seemed to lose their luster in later parts of the game (particularly the half bow and Explosive Arrow, the former was only good for killing the angry doggos and the latter only killed Mongols if near another explosive to stack), that one Masako quest mission where you have to follow and pick off Straw Hats one by one without being seen, but will fail if you pull a triple assassination before the outpost where Masako’s lesbian lover was leading them all to so there’s more Straw Hats to blow my cover! (it wasn’t difficult it just annoyed me that it failed me for killing them all early) and the completionist in me hates that there are empty slots in the arrow and blowgun sections, but they can be worked in what I’ll talk about a bit later down the line, alongside some minor loose threads. Also you killed my horse man!

Your horse will accompany you on your entire journey - Ghost of Tsushima UI Message

Don’t you dare lie to me like that again Sucker Punch! Just because you’re named that doesn’t mean you can live up to it, we already lost one horse at the beach! Had to spend the final act with Not-Sora and Kaze with a hole in my heart never to be filled. But with that dealt with, let’s talk about some things I loved about the game

花は桜木人は武士 :  Living into a Legend With these games it is very easy to fall into the Elder Scrolls prototype of an array fun side quests and exploration and a so-so main story. Ghost of Tsushima though decided to have both the array of side quests and exploration and a great, complex and partly tragic story. There were many times I wanted to get back to the main story but held off because I wanted to be prepared. Long distances didn’t feel too bad to travel when the roads were uncharted either thanks to radiant battles, new settlements, vanity gear and side missions to ease you on the way. Additionally, the characters are for the most part fantastic, I cared for the safety of most of my allies and Jin himself, I wanted the Khan dead in a cerebral villain (albeit one whose final battle fell into cowardice) and I was open to the complexities of Ishikawa and Tomoe. I did feel that Shimura was being a tad ungrateful but I think it was intended for us to be frustrated to the edicts of the Samurai code - my frustration led me so much to deep dive to prove myself justified since the code was subjective and many agreed to aspects of ‘win no matter what’ and ‘do what protects the people the most’. Along with the main quest was paired with the character journeys of our allies as well as the Mythic tales which granted some extra strength and challenges to overcome in order to expand Jin’s arsenal. I particularly liked the observation and killing of leaders to learn new stances, as well as the widely acclaimed Stand-Off and the duels. The Arkhamverse fan in me did appreciate the focused hearing for stealth and that assassination speed could be upgraded. The idea of collecting vanity gear, armour dyes and equipment that are remains of the conflict showed that SP had completely immersed their plot into the world of Tsushima, with a great amount of exploration and nuances nodding to Japanese folklore And Tsushima is certainly stunning, it’s amazing that the PS4 can hold this much when we know how the PS5 is meant to be with ray tracing. The landscapes are beauteous which makes exploration and travel much more fulfilling, as well as the photo mode and the scenic builds to some of the major battles. What’s also wonderful is the calligraphy cutscenes for Mythic Tales and the loading screens, some wonderful artistry. Artistry which is added to by the brilliant uses of Haiku spots, Bamboo Strikes, Lighthouses, Shrines, Altars which you bow to, Fox dens where you can pet the Foxxos and even the Hot Springs for some ‘Man-Butt Action’, each positions that fit to Japanese media in soaking in a moment without killing any pace, especially added to the fact that each one contributes to a purpose. I will admit, I chose wrong at the end, I was thinking more of Shimura (said ungrateful uncle)’s honour rather than what Jin would what, feeling that Shimura would’ve done it himself had Jin not. But seeing the spare ending made me wish I chose that one and it’s something I’ll touch on later. But both endings are fitting and tragic for Jin’s journey from Samurai to the Ghost, being inspired by his allies and his connection to Yuna, there has been conflict throughout regarding the line of protection, honour and vengeance explored through other people’s tales that blend together perfectly with the main plot.  It is pretty political as well with the argument presented by Jin and Shimura’s conflict. Samurai while still romanticised were still shown to be bound to the blind loyalty towards the Shogun and Jito, you did not defy because it inspired others to think freely. Jin became a champion of a people by defending the people rather than listening to the jito - represented by the shogunate - and their stringent ideas that the Samurai who failed on the beach would be able to out-muster the force and brutality of the Mongol invasion regardless of the collateral and yet still call that honour. In the current climate in 2020, that hits a chord a little closer than expected. And the main story certainly has their stellar moments, the ups and downs really hit you - like killing my freaking horse! I had to lose Yuriko, Taka and Sora in a single playthrough. Losing Taka was inevitable, but still heartbreaking because of how much we struggled to save him and how much we want to still be Yuna’s friend, but then the highs just blow you away from the opening act, Ghost Stance, raiding Castle Kaneda and Shimura and the final raid at Port Izumi. Also did I mention that you can pet the Foxxos? Because that’s very important, also NPCs walk at your pace most of the time, which is a fantastic addition. I could probably go deeper but there’s other stuff I want to cover, but understand that the world and the story is wonderful and if you’re a fan of Assassin’s Creed, Arkhamverse and just Japanese culture in general this should tick your boxes. And hopefully there’s more to come.

石の上にも三年 : Strait to DLC The sad thing that happens when a good game is over is the void. Even if its days, having nothing left of the game to play is still a shame, and I know that Legends DLC is announced, but multiplayer involving fighting Oni as mythic legends isn’t my pace, I’m still not done with Jin and I feel like there are things we could still do. There are still 3 conflicts Jin’s story never resolved that could still be resolved now, each as multi-layered quests. The first is this ‘Ghost Army’ mentioned by the wagon guy in Omi, we are not leading this so who is? We may not be able to stop them but we could reduce the amount of people thinking we’re leading them to fight. The second is Daizo, if you don’t know that name it’s because the guy is never seen in the game, you only read about him in the Records of ‘Conversations with the Khan’. This Japanese Monk clearly has a thing for the late Khotun and he feels that the Ghost is being a dishonorable monster, this Khan lover is still at large and a confidant of Khotun, we could link with Norio in a quest to ensure he doesn’t rally or try to spread his appreciation of the Khan to others to try and complete Khotun’s work. The final conflict is one that eats me up: How did the Mongols Know About the Poison? Yuriko died showing me how to make the poisons, made more potent from her own herbal poisons which were crushed down, if she didn’t tell and I didn’t tell, who told? Because the Mongols drank the evidence and we could make a story of an Omi village traitor or even someone from Shimura’s camp leaking the info to the Khan to try and preserve ‘honour’. On top of these loose ends I’d very much like to see our allies again, even if they’re just at their home doing their own thing, as well as some other minor side characters like the Tadayori descendant Kaede, Flame Swordsman Bettomaru (who would’ve both been mighty useful with this Mongol affair beyond their sole missions) and the Yarikawa Archer Daikoku, I also would like to see confirmation on Jin and Yuna - there is clearly something there but that could be just me. What is also just me would be the suggestion of a shrine that can let you redo the Shimura decision, it’s not a too ‘out-there’ thing to do either considering we fought a Tengu. The shrine could be for Omoikane, Kami of wisdom and intelligence or Ame-no-Koyane, the ‘First in Charge of Divine Affairs’ which’d subject the player to a gauntlet of bosses past; Ryuzo, Kotun and Shimura, if the player goes against their initial decision, they will trade their ghost armour dye for the other and get a Charm of Pondering, if they stick to their guns they get both ghost armour dyes and a Charm of Strengthened Stance. In similar vein we could have a master Mythic Tale that stacks the duels of those tales into one for another special attack, weapon or armour. It’s also possible that we could add more duels, some remnants trying to avenge Khotun or even some Samurai sent by the Shogun in promise of becoming Jito. Likewise we can use this to complete the weapons set; for the Half Bow, take the Mongols’ poison arrows (which can be a reward for finding who leaked the poison to them) which can just eat at lesser enemies’ health and take a chunk of stronger enemies’ health before resolving out of it, as well as a sticky arrow that could slow enemies or weaken their armour, or a perfume arrow that can mess with the falcons and angry doggo’s senses. For the Long Bow we could have...okay I’m drawing a blank here but I’m not meant to do all the work XD For the Blowgun at least you could have a Blinding Dart to aid in stealth and a Panic Dart to increase chances of Terrify. We could even have a few more upgrades to our ghost weapons and stance combats, even increase the amount of kills Ghost Stance can yield. In addition to more Fox Dens, Shrines, maybe new resources to bolster upgrades, Sword Kits, Haikus, Banners, Flute Songs, dyes and so on. But I know what you’re thinking, we can’t put that all in Tsushima? We’ve covered the entire island and it’s unlikely that SP would make a fictitious island. And to that I say, I have that covered. In the Tsushima Strait between the island and the mainland there is Iki Island, part of the same prefecture and equally ravaged by the Mongols during the invasion, it’s also the base of pirates which can offer a stop point for a Tomoe reunion or simply travel via Umugi Cove. A small bit of expansion wouldn’t hurt, as long as Iki isn’t planned for something else that is.

能ある鷹は爪を隠す : Hopes for a Sequel Now part of me would be content if this was a one and done, the game shines perfectly on its own. But I would not turn one down. Though many would feel that Jin’s journey is done (I even heard a suggestion of Tomoe, I could see that but not right now, maybe for a third) but not me, there’s still a few glaring issues at hand. For one, the Shogun now wants you dead, new clans are moving in on you and there will probably be a new Jito regardless of the ending choice because of Shimura’s failure, Adachi will also need to look at another clan taking its land. There’s also the vacuum left behind by the clans’ subsidiaries; Nagao particularly but also Adachi’s rival clan Kikuchi, there’s easily possibilities to use canon Sō, Abiru, Shōni and Imagawa, there’s also room for Kikuchi Takefusa, who survived both Mongol invasions  . A sequel could offer some clan territorial tensions in that regard as the people of Tsushima side with the Ghost over the mainland. That conflict is one we have touched on in the end of the first, Jin has fought for his country’s safety so how will he act when his country wants him dead? The first was a story of sacrifice perhaps the next can be a story of maintaining his legend, inspiring the mainland Samurai and even redeeming himself in the eyes of the non-Tsushima natives. It’s also worth remembering that Komoda was the beginning of the invasion, and there was a second invasion 6 years later where Tsushima was attacked once more, the death of non-canon Khotun could spark other higher ups of Kublai’s ranks to avenge or clean up for Khotun, Kublai also had counsel from different nations to understand his enemy so we could have an even more vicious and cerebral enemy be made, or even a group of enemies led by advisors like Liu Kan or Yao Shu, maybe even Marco Polo if we move the time after the first invasion. In terms of gameplay we could also see Jin expand from Tsushima to Iki and maybe some more naval warfare, growing in his equipment (like Caltrops, Kusari-Fundo and Suntetsu) and maybe even his weapon, an Ono, Jitte or a Naginata to rotate with his not-yet-made Katana to combat with Samurai or the army of a Mongol threat, maybe even use the Bo-Hiya for ranged fire archery learned from the Hwacha. And like the Mass Effect games (or Dragon Ball Xenoverse if you wanna pick a franchise that didn’t end in a bitter aftertaste) you could have the option to transfer over some data from the PS4 save to the next one, which’d inevitably be on PS5 at the least - also don’t be surprised if this gets a PS5 remaster too, especially if it does win Game of the Year. What I suggested for DLC could be used here too, if there is a sequel with Jin I really, really hope that SP don’t opt for the route of killing Jin (or Yuna) off for effect, I was nervous about the current game ending with Hara Kiri and I’d rather not have that or a downer of a death for the legendary Ghost (I am a happy endings guy after all). An alternative route to go (other than following Tomoe to the mainland to rip off the Ghost) is to work backwards, call it ‘Ghosts of Tsushima’ working towards a story of a more ancient time, where a thief could become a samurai clan. A clan Sakai or Shimura origin would sell in that way too and avoid the idea that we have to start again from zero but still have the more ‘dishonorable’ stealth tactics.

義は険しい山よりも重く、死は大鳥の羽よりも軽い : Conclusion In the end, this game was worth the wait, worth the delays and worth the price tag. I feel like this will be one of the games I’ll fondly remember when thinking of the PS4, which has truly had a stellar library of awesome games like Spider-Man, God of War, the Crash, Ratchet & Clank and Spyro Remasters, DMCV, Jedi: Fallen Order and more. This truly ticked the boxes for the anime nerd within me and the history buff, even the Haikus spurred the poet in me a little too. If anyone hasn’t played this game, they should, and I hope that Sucker Punch realises that people like me want to see more. If it stands alone so be it, but I’m not ready to leave Jin or Tsushima just yet. いってらっしゃい

[k-writer1998]

Rebel Hours (12/18)

Kwon Jieun always fit her parents’ image of the “perfect” daughter… at least to their knowledge. Away from prying eyes she was like any other girl living life to the fullest doing what she wants. When a little someone named Bang Chan comes into her life priorities are changed, mistakes are made, and her life finally becomes her own.

Fluff

w.c: 1.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tell me again why I had to plan the hang out for us to meet your boyfriend again?”

“Because I had to deal with a crisis called my parents and I wouldn’t have reached out to the others in time?”

“You know you so owe me right?”

“Then I’ll plan the hang out whenever you bring your boyfriend Liam home for him to get approved by us,” I laugh as she shoves me a bit.

“Can you not be obnoxious for two seconds?”

“Sorry, when it comes to your love life it's a must in the best friend code. Remember how you treated me when we first saw Chan?”

“Fine I deserve it,” she rolls her eyes with a laugh.

      A few days passed since my argument with my parents and things have been… calm. I can’t help the unnerving feeling that something’s gonna happen but what can I do? Since it’s not possible to put the cat back into the bag, I’ve been going out with my silver hair and even risked wearing my clothes rather than the “mother-approved” ones. What’s a little more trouble anyways? Excitement pooled in my stomach at the thought of Chan meeting my four “lovely” best friends, I can already tell they’ll get along. As Seunghee and I neared the meeting area, the park’s play structure, my eyes immediately caught Seungmin and Jeongin. I run up to the two and force them into hugs.

“I missed you guys,” I cooed.

“You literally saw me this morning.”

“I wanted to include you too but fine,” I rolled my eyes, “I missed you Jeonginie!”

“What about your best friend?” I hear Hyunjin call, coming over to us.

“I’m back so my “best friend” title is returned to me, thank you,” Seunghee teased.

“Fine I see how it is. So when is lover-boy coming?”

      Before I responded Chan texted and I happily looked around for his approaching figure. Once I spotted him, I met him halfway with a hug in which I heard Hyunjin and Jeongin fake gagging behind me. With a roll of my eyes I pulled away and turned to my friends.

“Chan, meet my best friends. Troublemakers meet my boyfriend. You’ve indirectly met troublemaker number one when she stole your number from my phone,” I laugh.

“Tsk, watch how I’ll introduce you to Liam,” she glared at me before turning to Chan, “pleasure to officially meet you Chan.”

“Glad to put a face to a name, Seunghee.”

“Next is troublemaker number two, the one that got into a fight with Jisung, Hyunjin.”

“Nice to meet someone who will keep up with Jisung,” Chan chuckled.

“Haha, yeah… hi,” Hyunjin forced a smile at the mention of Jisung.

“Lastly Jeongin and my current room mate Seungmin, Seunghee’s brother.”

“Why don’t they get called troublemakers?!” Seunghee and Hyunjin argued.

      After a short argument and discussion, the group decided to go to the arcade a few streets over. On the walk over Chan and the boys were getting along like he’s been part of the circle from the beginning. While they were being boys,  us girls were a few steps back and I couldn’t help but watch Chan as adoration swelled in my chest.

“Oof, turn down the heart eyes, you're making me miss my boyfriend,” Seunghee teased.

“Shut up, I’m just glad everyone likes each other okay?”

      We started poking fun at each other and by the time we reached the arcade the other boys, minus Chan, had gone in. Seunghee walked past him with a wave of her hand.

“I’ll see you guys down there. Go have your couple’s moment,” she said in mock disgust.

“So what were you girls talking about back there?” he chuckled.

“I hate to break your heart but you weren’t the main topic.”

“Ouch and here I thought I was making a good impression.”

“Don’t worry. She likes you and it seems you and the boys get along just fine. Now let's get down there. If we’re up here too long they’re gonna make assumptions.”

“What kind of assumptions princess?” At that he wrapped his arms around my waist and quirked an eyebrow at me teasingly. 

“I thought I was “baby girl”?”

“You are both and so much more,” he smirked.

“My friends are right, you are such a lover-boy,” I laugh, “Now let's go.”

      I weaseled my way out of his arms before heading down the stairs, Chan close on my tail. We played various games and Chan even won me another plushie, the proper way this time. While we were competing against each other, Chan ended up losing a round of the punching bag game to Seungmin and was forced to buy everyone drinks from the nearby cafe. Time passed and Chan still hadn’t returned so I excused myself, and was teased endlessly for it, to go find him. I spotted Chan standing on the corner and with a smile I snuck up on him and wrapped my arms around his waist, popping my head over his shoulder.

“Oh, it’s our little lightweight,” Minho’s voice called.

“Wow hyung so you blew us off for your girlfriend?” Felix asked in mock offense.

“Hey guys, you can join us if you want,” I offer as I pull away from Chan.

“No way, we don’t want to be third wheels.”

“We’re hanging with my friends down at the arcade over there Changbin, no third wheels.”

“Before you get excited Jisung, the guy from Changbin’s party is there. Play nice,” Chan teased.

“Fine but you can’t keep me from making a little friendly competition.”

“Whatever, there isn’t anything friendly with that look on your face,” Felix snorted.

      Felix was right, although Hyunjin had a similarly sour expression when he saw Jisung come down with us. Those two competed nonstop on all the games for the rest of our stay at the arcade. Aside from those two, the rest of us had fun playing in a proper friendly competition. After a while we got hungry and decided to go eat although Hyunjin and Jisung were displeased that they had to leave on a tie. With so many people, going out to eat really was something else. The volume increased tenfold, there was never a lull in the conversation, and there was constant laughter. After eating, everyone slowly faded home and Chan and I finally had another moment to ourselves as the Seung-siblings were hailing a cab.

“We should hang out in this big group more often, it’s fun and they oddly blend well together.”

“More like chaos but you’re right, it was nice. Although if we do it too often I don’t know how long Jisung and Hyunjin will last before they get into a real fight,” Chan jokes.

“I think they actually get along.”

“You’re crazy you know that?”

      We laughed and Chan had a playful smirk dancing across his lips. He started leaning in when Minho’s voice interrupted him. Chan released a quiet growl as I bit back a giggle.

“Hey guys, I’m about to leave but Chan you still coming to my competition tomorrow? Jieun, if you’re free you should come too.”

“Of course bro.”

“Oh when is it? I’m just dropping Seunghee at the airport but I’m free after that.”

“It’s at X university at two. You may continue now,” he laughed. 

      With that Minho ran off before Chan could react. He let out a sigh and then pouted when Seunghee called me over cause the cab was here. Rolling my eyes, I gave him a quick kiss goodbye as Seunghee’s happy squeal could be heard in the distance making us both chuckle. The next day was just as hectic as the first time Seunghee left, running around to make sure nothing was left behind and all that. Luckily there were less tears saying goodbye this time. Once back at the apartment, I changed out of the random sweats I threw on this morning into my baby blue off-the-shoulder sweater and my white jeans for Minho’s dance competition. By the time I finished my hair Chan texted that he was outside so I pulled on my white high-tops and called out to Seungmin that I was leaving before heading down.

      The car ride to the venue was an interesting one. Although Chan was some “hard” underground rapper his music taste was actually quite vast. I had a good laugh watching him sing along to Ariana Grande, his voice somewhat failing him as he attempted to reach her high notes. When Ed Sheeran suddenly came on though, it was like falling in love all over again with him… wait love? As the thought of me being in love with Bang Chan played in my mind, a smile forced its way onto my lips even as I tried to hide it.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked as he put the car into park.

“No particular reason. Now come on, I want to get good seats!”

      I quickly changed the subject as I hopped out of the car. As we headed into the event center, I was feeding off the excited energy and goofing around when I accidentally bumped into someone. Immediately I ran over to make sure the girl was okay.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay? I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the girl giggled.

      Helping her up, I couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked. This girl looked like the personification of honey when she smiled. It was oddly familiar but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“This is going to sound weird but you look familiar, I wouldn’t forget a smile as sweet as yours. Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so,” she awkwardly laughed.

“Are you hitting on someone right in front of your boyfriend?” Chan teased.

“That’s it!” I snapped my fingers, “Are you perhaps dating a Yoon Minhyuk?”

“Yeah… I am.”

“It’s so nice to meet you! I’m a friend from high school, Kwon Jieun.”

“You’re Jieun? Then I’m guessing you got the guy?” She smirked before adding, “I’m Chaerin.”

“That I did,” I laugh before offering, “Do you want to sit together?”

“Yes! I’m always alone, it’s nice to have other people for once,” she smiles.

[high5nerd]

Vorfreude

Aay, my first (at the time) Pitch x Reader one-shot!

Don’t fook your professors, folks.

“When understanding the root words of our modern day languages, it can be daunting to fully comprehend the detail such a language as English can be intertwined with a multitude of other languages long forgotten,”

Dr. Pitchiner was certainly entrancing when he spoke at the podium, flourishing a hand at the list of most common prefixes and suffixes used in today’s modern English, along with a surprise list of obscure ones you knew you had to take note on. Dr. Pitchiner wasn’t one to give easy exams, the last exam was so gruelling someone almost passed out from a panic attack at the multitude of pages.

Despite enjoying writing yourself, you weren’t as invested in English as he was, which was a given, hence the reason his PhD in English as well as a degree in Latin Translation. Many times he’s journeyed to Italy to help assist scholars in finding new information on the lost civilizations of Rome, Sicily, and Pompeii, and that credit alone was the sole reason he got the job at this state college. He should have been employed at universities like Harvard or Yale, or even Oxford or Princeton, but yet here he was, teaching at your simple state college with an acceptance rate of 93% and the highest transferring stat in all of your state.

   Not a lot of students found him attractive like you did. Certainly there was more than a couple handfuls of girls, pockets of them, who’ve admired his lithe figure, his graceful movements and that firm ass that was way too snug in his black slacks. Most of them admired his physique from afar, some even daring others to get closer to flirt with him shamelessly, and usually that ended up with a bad memory for the attempted action, as well as the girl who tried to drop the class out of utter embarrassment at such a call out after class that could be heard around the hall.

   Dr. Kozmotis Pitchiner took no bullshit from anyone, and that’s the main reason your heart fluttered at the thought and sight of him. This class wasn’t the first time you two had met face to face either, shockingly. Quite hilariously, the first time you two met, you didn’t even like him.

Three years ago, you were an itty bitty freshman just like the ones that recently arrived this semester, and to the best of your luck, you scored almost five hours of total free time on Mondays and Wednesdays before your Intro to Biology class and Intro to Psychology course after lunch.

Why not explore the gorgeous campus during those five hours? It would get you more acquainted with your surroundings and in small cases, make new friends! Grabbing a can of fruit juice and a danish from the dining hall, you munched as you explored the massive quad before discovering where the art gallery was, venturing towards the art and theatre buildings you’d be in the next year for your art perspective requirements. You found yourself meandering in the photograph-covered walled hallway of the English department, unknowingly headed towards the campus’s own local newspaper headquarters when a voice startled you from your entrancement with your journey.

“Hey. Where do you think you’re going?” a voice matching the texture of velvet came.

You turn around, frowning at the sudden startling noise. There just feet away from you, emerged from his office was a man dressed in what you would consider funeral appropriate attire, a smooth black suit with a basic black tie, and shiny black dress shoes that looked like they could reflect sunlight and somehow cause a car accident if he walked outside.

“I’m exploring. Where do you think you’re going?” you shot back, taking a long sip of your fruit juice.

You were mildly surprised to see a smirk cross his devious lips, his silver-gold eyes narrowing at your sass. He almost looked amused at your attitude, even enough so that his tensed shoulders relaxed, but his arms still remained folded over his chest.

“At the moment, I’m going wherever you think you’re headed, which should be in the opposite direction you’re headed.”

Ooh, he likes playing word games. You took another sip and then took a big bite of your danish, not caring about how childish you were coming off to him. You pointed towards the hallway, “Why can’t I go down there?”

He gestured his head in the same direction, “It’s merely copy rooms and computer labs meant for the Daily Mascot Oracle. Nothing worth checking out.”

“Oh. That’s a shit title.” you commented.

He barked out a heartwarming laugh. You grin at him, glad he finally was capable of taking that stick out of his ass and be a decent human being. Almost three times so far in just two days you got two people to really dislike your presence and your sassy attitude, someone named Bunnymund and another elfish looking kid named Jack who’s definition of fun didn’t match yours at all.

“I certainly didn’t agree to it either, but the editor in chief made sure my vote was outnumbered,” he hesitated, thinking quickly before glancing at you, “Are you a freshman?”

You nodded, knowing what he would ask next, “Majoring in psychology with hopefully a minor in alternative medicine and therapy.”

He looked genuinely impressed, “I must say, it’s quite refreshing to have a new student under that field. Not a lot of freshmen choose that whilst entering for their first year. What makes you like that field of study so much?”

You shrugged with a smile, “I like the whole concept of the human mind and how it functions on an emotional state. It’s interesting how certain actions and emotions can create feelings inside us, and I especially love the study of dreams and fears and hopes. I want to do a project on dream therapy for my senior thesis when it comes time to that, but I doubt they’ll let me. Professor Oren didn’t like hearing me say that at orientation.”

Dr. Pitchiner nodded, “Oren doesn’t really believe in the science behind dreams, and certainly not the spirituality behind it if you believe in that sort of thing. I certainly do.”

“You do?” you were genuinely surprised, literally taken aback. You wouldn’t have considered such an eloquent, smooth and finely dressed man to believe in a spirituality. He reeked of realist to you, you certainly weren’t expecting that.

He nodded again, “Of course. It’s only natural for the human psyche to become understandable to a certain degree, and it’s been proven through many other cultures that such things exist, like the sixth sense or empathy or precognition. Why not in dream analyzation? It’s fascinating, I’m glad you’re interested in it. If I wasn’t an English professor I would immediately return to college to take advantage of that.”

That’s when you realized how gold his eyes were, how they sparkled like the richest coins ever discovered in the vastness of the sunken world of ships at the bottom of the ocean. His eyes gave away intense wisdom, feeling and intellect that you felt the need to learn from. You needed to unlock every part of him to see beyond that gaze he gave you with that strange upturn at the corner of his devilish mouth.

Sure enough, you eventually found yourself in his class a couple years later for your required English Analysis course, and the both of you took advantage of that. You found yourself wandering back to his office between classes and office hours, knowing full well no one visited him nor had the courage to due to his harshness in class and strict code he sticks to in not forming attachments to the student body. For you, somehow you were able to break that barrier and see a different kind of man than what people upfront knew him as.

Your friend Katherine is your first and only senior friend at the university, and from her story when you signed up for his course at the beginning of the year, he was known to be callous and strict, such a polar opposite to leniency that even if you were sick with proof of illness, he wouldn’t accept that as an excused absence unless you flourished a medical note from a doctor to him. Everyone feared him, but admired him from afar since he’s the only professor to actually cut down on the bullshitters and slackers in class, and is one of the most respected professors there because of his adventures in Italy as a historian as well as a translator.

You, however, knew him as a sarcastic, good humored intellect with an avid thirst for learning the unknown, and unlocking skills he’s never attempted. From the times you would visit his office or bump into each other in the hallways and have small talk, you learned that at one point in his life he was just as brash, brazen and impulsive as you are now. Before he considered becoming a professor, he was eager to study what you were studying in now, especially the study of phobias and humans’ reactions to certain fear-triggering events or objects. You were the only one that’s ever heard him snort at a god-awful joke you would attempt at, and the only one that’s ever seen him grin at you in such a way it made your stomach flip and flutter.

Perhaps you exposed yourself too much to him, or perhaps he was just so relatable you felt like you sometimes felt like you were talking to a part of yourself you’ve never discovered before. It slightly scared you how much he knew about you and it wasn’t even the end of the fall semester, but you trusted him in ways you’ve never trusted another before. He always promised you absolute confidentiality with your confessions to him, most out of pure merriment and in the goal of a strengthened friendship, like when you told him when you were fourteen you tried blending into the popular clique but still found yourself drawn to the nerds and theater kids once more. He once gave you such a dubious smirk at the notion of you once being the stereotypical geek, with what you claimed to be the unattractive flat hair, braces and awkward gait.

“I can hardly believe that of you.” he chuckled.

“Why? You can kinda tell, don’t lie.” you winked teasingly.

He tilted his head in his hand at you, looking your figure up and down so slowly and languidly that it made your face heat up with a sudden thrill you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Whoever you were before has grew into a fine young woman, that’s most of what I can see.” he looked at you seriously, his eyes hard with truth.

Ever since that you realized that the idea of him being closer than what you two already were was something else you wanted. You thirsted for it, like an obsession. Unhealthy, you weren’t sure, but you were careful not to give yourself away to him, in fear that it would destroy that friendship you two already had. Without anyone’s knowledge but his, you both called each other by your first names. You called him Koz, and he called you by the nickname you wanted him to call you.

Even just watching him write on the board, hearing his voice wrap you lovingly in it’s deep musical tones made your legs tighten in excitement. You furrowed your brows, trying to ignore the incoming thoughts of his voice saying your name like a mantra as you wrote down everything being scribbled on the board.

The guy next to you noticed your discomfort, and nudged his elbow with yours. You looked at him, affronted, “What?”

“You look pissed. You okay?” he looked suspicious.

“Shut up, I’m fine.”

“(y/n).”

Your blood froze, looking up at him in pure fear at being called out in front of class. His hands were folded behind his back, his eyes lingering on you and only you. The class stared at you, nearly a thousand eyes focused on your nervous leg bouncing and the pen in your hand being crushed by the amount of attention drawn onto you.

“I see you have already started to discuss with Stephen,” you could swear to the moon above he smirked ruefully, “Would you like to tell us what the definition of vorfreude is?”

You gulped quickly before looking down at your paper, noticing that the last couple notes were not even notes, they were sinful descriptions of what you wanted him to do to your mouth and in between your thighs. Your face grew incredibly red to the point it prickled your skin as you stood up. You never broke eye contact with him. You can’t be weak now.

“Vorfreude is a German word to define a type of intense anticipation of imagining future pleasures.”

He nodded, his smirk subsiding to something even darker at the moment you uttered the word ‘future’, “Excellent. Glad to see you’re still paying attention despite your distractions.”

Some people snickered at your red face deepening in color as you plopped back down in your seat. By now Koz was shuffling the exams collected last week, freshly graded and corrections that could leave someone in tears if not taken lightly.

As he passed around the graded exams going over the class’s weak points and what to look forward to for the next midterm, you doodled a bit more in your notebook and wrote more lines of absolute sin into a poetic verse, something E. E. Cummings would be absolutely proud of.

You read over your lines, admiring the visual rhymes as well as the absolute clear imagery of being locked into him, his arms like a vice as he would pull your hair and bite at the sensitive parts of your neck, and even now you squirmed at the daydream of such a carnal act going on in his office. More than anything, more than just impressing him with your knowledge and sharp tongue would be for him to pin you to the desk and make you cry out his name in ecstasy as your legs would quiver with release. You bit your lip as you tightened your grip on your sweatshirt, trying your damn hardest not to accidentally make a noise.

That’s when you noticed the shadow lurking over you.

You froze. Your entire body became still with horror and your blood turned cold as Koz read over your carnal poem and observed your lewd doodles with a casual eye as he handed you your exam. You reached out for it with a shaking hand and slowly placed it over the notebook page, knowing it was too late to hide the damage.

“Please see me after class about your note-taking.”

You nodded, trying to fight tears from the utter embarrassment as he finished handing out the exams. You close your notebook in disgust with yourself. Koz continues the class until 5:45, the usual time it ends when everyone wastes no time in dilly dallying and immediately leaving, most if not all heading to the dining hall for dinner. You, planning to indulge in just a minor dinner consisting of cereal or soup out of embarrassment and sadness, packed up slowly.

“(y/n), a word please.” he beckoned from his podium.

You refused to look at him as you stepped down from the lecture hall stairs to the podium, your backpack slung over your shoulder and your confidence crumbling even further as you waited with baited breath as he finished shutting off the projector and computer.

“You have quite a knack for poetry for someone who says English isn’t their forte, as well as for a psychology major.” he calmly noted, hardly glancing at you.

You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t hold it in anymore and let it burst from your chest, all your thoughts jumbled into a single rambling mess, “I swear I didn’t intend for you to see it, I just-I just-I don’t know why I did that and I know I messed up our friendship, it’s all my fault and I’m really really sorry, I seriously wasn’t thinking and I just can’t help but feel these things and it just makes it worse when I think about you, I don’t know what to do about it-”

A hand crept around the back of your neck and forced your head up, and without even a single warning you felt warm, wet lips enveloping yours, biting sweetly as well as fervently. You couldn’t help but make a noise of startlement at the sudden action, but before you could even have time to melt into the kiss, he pulled away, a smirk on his face.

“It’d be inappropriate for me to do such things, but more inappropriate for you to act on it as well. Yet, I know you are wise enough to not pursue it like you want to.” he stated, his eyes resembling molten gold.

Your gaze flattened, “Koz, what the fuck was that if you say you’re not ‘pursuing it’.”

He grinned, “Your confirmation of your feelings, as well as a promise of patience.”

“Patience?”

He smirked again, tilting his head and embracing the feel of superiority again, “You have nearly one more year left. I wonder if you have the patience to stick it out-”

That pissed you off. You grabbed his black tie and pulled him down, startling him as you kissed him hard. You pulled away just as quickly, enjoying the look of surprise on his face as well as slight bewilderment at being cut off from gloating.

You smiled innocently, smoothing down his tie as well as the front of his jacket, “Nice to know I’m not the only one enjoying the feeling of vorfreude from now on. Have a good day, Professor.”

Without a second backwards glance, you confidently strode out of the lecture hall, leaving Koz impressed as well as out of breath at your grand exit. He didn’t realize he’d be aching for you just as much as you ached for him.

It’s only a year, right? Not too long…

Boy were you two wrong.

[outerjjbx]

Jiara July Jubilee

Day 3, 28th of July- AU day

words: 4k

Kiara Carrera watched in disbelief as yet another Bilia set off the alarms at her parents’ grocery store. They turned visible with a sigh, revealing to her that it was a blonde, disheveled looking boy. He sulked to the front desk, stolen items in hand.

Bilias we’re constantly trying to steal. When powers, or Dicios, first arrived, they were at the top of the food chain. They could get or do anything without getting caught, and everyone else began to resent them for it. Technology that could detect them was made to prevent them from stealing or committing any crimes, which was fine, but it was the stereotypes that did the damage. The Bilias that didn’t do anything wrong we’re shunned by society, and therefore had to turn to crime to survive. It was a dangerous cycle.

“What’s the point of being able to go invisible when you can’t do shit with it?” the boy mumbled as he placed a collection of canned goods and non-perishable food in front of Kiara.

“Go rob some other place. Your type’s getting on my nerves,” she replied as she grabbed the items and stacked them neatly beside her.

The boy studied her with a furrowed eyebrow. “What are you?”

“Mare,” Kiara told him.

The way his face lit up at that was no surprise. Mares were the most desired Dicio, on account of both their powerful abilities and intelligence. Most figures of power were Mares due to their brains and hearts, and they created the perfect blend of kind yet respected leaders. Being able to move water was just an added bonus.

The boy’s eyes widened. “Ugh, that’s so cool! Getting to control water? I wish! Instead I’m just stuck as a stupid Bilia.”

“Turning invisible’s pretty cool,” Kiara shrugged.

“I dunno,” the boy scoffed. “There’s all this bullshit technology now, we can’t do anything. We’re basically human at this point.”

“We’re all human,” Kiara reminded him. “Literally the only thing that differentiates us is our Dicios. You’re acting like we’re completely different species.”

The boy shook his head. “We basically are. And Bilias? We’re fucking dying off. I swear, the world’s against us. How are we supposed to survive when we can’t steal?”

Kiara raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you could get jobs and buy things like everyone else? Just a suggestion.”

The boy laughed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard. “Ha! Easy for you to say when you’re a Mare.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kiara asked, feeling herself get defensive.

“You know what it means,” the boy said. “Everyone wants to hire Mares ‘cause you’re the smart ones. All the other Dicios have things that make them useful, especially y’all, but Bilias? No, we were literally born to steal, and we can’t even do that. No one wants to hire an invisible kleptomaniac, so we’re just forced to rot.”

Kiara watched him rant, taking in his words. “What do you need this food for?”

The boy deflated and looked down, his passion drained. “My mom is sick, and my dad is... complicated.”

Kiara frowned, studying his solemn expression, his blue eyes filled with shame. “How old are you?”

The boy shrugged. “Sixteen.” he smiled bleakly and read her name tag. “Why, are you trying to pick me up, Kie- fuck, how do you even say your name?”

“Kiara,” she hummed. “What’s your name?”

“John James,” the boy replied, looking proud. “But I go by JJ. JJ Maybank.”

“Maybank?” Kiara repeated. “As in Luke Maybank?”

JJ flinched at the name. “I guess. How do you know my dad?”

“He used to be friends with mine,” Kiara frowned. “He’s kind of public enemy number one around here. He stole shit from my dad, the owner, or something. I don’t know.”

Truthfully, she did know. Her father had gone over the story countless times. He was constantly ranting about how she shouldn’t trust Bilias, and about how Luke Maybank had ruined his life. They were best friends in high school; an unlikely pair. They opened a business together, a grocery store where Kiara’s mom and Luke’s wife could sell their fruits and vegetables. It started off great, a sweet grocery store full of fresh food and joy. Then Luke Maybank got busted for fraud and for stealing from the company, and Fresh Carrera’s became the depressing place Kiara knew and hated.

“That sounds like him,” JJ sighed. “I guess I should leave, then. Sorry for wasting your time.”

He turned to leave, but some sort of awful moral code made Kiara call out to him. She held out a can of chicken soup, and he looked shocked as he took it into his own hands.

“For your mom,” Kiara said. “I can’t give you anymore, or my parents will literally kill me, but you can come back some time.”

JJ was staring at the can in his hands like it was a million bucks, and he was holding it like it was a cracked egg. “Thank you so much, Kie..?”

“Kiara,” she nodded. “But you can call me Kie.”

JJ smiled. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back, okay? I’ll get money, I’ll-”

“It’s okay,” Kiara interrupted. “Just promise to come back, and we’ll be okay.”

JJ looked giddy as he nodded and practically skipped out of the store. Kiara watched him go, bewildered by the boy. She had never met someone like him; someone so confident yet reserved at the same time. He had ranted about life’s cruelty without even knowing her name, but struggled to accept a can of soup he was previously going to steal. He was an enigma.

—

Kiara was coming back from her break the next day when a familiar voice caught her attention. She looked over to her coworker, Sarah, who was smiling amusedly at a talking JJ, her head titled as she studied him. She was a Vorso, which was similar to a mind reader in the sense that she could see into peoples’ heads. Vorsos never got clear thoughts from people, though; it was just mixtures of emotions and colours, with the occasional memory. They were powerful, but often condescending and sometimes narcissistic. Sarah was alright.

“Y’all okay?” Kiara asked as she approached the pair.

JJ grinned ear to ear when he saw her. “Kie! I was just talking to Sarah here. She’s a Vorso, isn’t that cool?”

Kiara nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

“Wait, can you read me when I’m invisible?” JJ asked, practically buzzing with excitement.

Sarah shrugged. “Only one way to find out, right?”

JJ disappeared, and Kiara had to admit that it was weird. She has seen Bilias reappear many times after they’d been caught shoplifting, but there was something about seeing them disappear that was even more unnerving. It was hard to believe JJ was still there.

Sarah shook her head. “I’m not getting anything, man.”

JJ was beaming when he reappeared. “Really? Oh, that’s awesome!”

Kiara watched the pair smile at each other, growing unreasonably uncomfortable. “So, what have you guys been talking about?”

“Anything,” Sarah shrugged, giving Kiara a knowing look.

Kiara turned to JJ, ignoring her coworker’s stare. “Hey, I still have to hold up my end of the deal. Wanna go get something?”

JJ grinned and bounced away, headed straight for the canned goods aisle. The girls watched him go, both equally perplexed by everything about him.

Sarah lowered her voice as soon as he was out of sight. “You’ve known him for, like, a day and you’re in love with him? Calm down, Kiara, your emotions are spiky!”

“I’m not in love with him!” Kiara whispered back. “I am amused and interested, okay?

One thing about Vorsos were that they really didn’t have any boundaries. They knew exactly what everyone was thinking, so they figured they didn’t need them. That never stopped Kiara from wanting to shrivel up and die every time one of them read her.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Are you forgetting that I can see inside your head? And let me tell you, it is messy in there. You care so much for him, and- what is that, jealousy? I-”

“He’s coming back!” Kiara hissed, cutting the other girl off. Sarah smirked at the flushed look on her friend’s face and watched JJ round a corner.

He returned with what had to be the largest can of tinned peaches in the store. He smiled sheepishly at Kiara’s expression as she studied it, Sarah looking over her shoulder.

“You can have it,” Kiara sighed.

JJ jumped and clasped his hands together. “Thank you so much you absolute queen! Do you want me to stay, or should I haul ass?”

Kiara waved her hand. “You should probably get out before my dad catches you.”

JJ nodded and turned to leave, the giant can in hand, but paused and suddenly returned. “Almost forgot,” he said as he pulled out a piece of paper and grabbed a nearby pen. He scribbled something down and saluted the girls, leaving before they could read it.

Kiara couldnt help but smile as she pieced up the piece of scrap paper. She bit her lip as her cheeks flushed, praying Sarah somehow couldn’t sense what she was feeling.

Of course, Sarah just chuckled lightly and shook her head. “Not in love with him, huh?” she teased as she turned to go back to her counter.

Kiara didn’t bother denying it. She just clutched the paper tightly, feeling stupid by how flushed she felt but not doing anything to change it. She looked at the exit, where JJ had just left, and let herself enjoy the odd rush of happiness his actions has cause. She looked down at the number scribbled out onto the piece of paper and slowly typed it into her phone.

-

JJ and Kiara had spent almost the whole night talking. She was a wreck in the morning, struggling to get up despite the excitement coursing through her veins at the thought of seeing JJ. She had discovered the previous night that they had a lot in common; the only real differences were their Dicios and social stance.

Her parents looked concerned as they all sat down for breakfast. Kiara was picking at her food, too exhausted to even take a bite. She kept staring off into space, and she probably looked like a mess.

“Are you alright, honey?” Anna, her overbearing mother, asked gently.

Kiara blinked, barely processing the words. “Uh, yeah.”

“You look tired,” her father, Mike, cut in. “You don’t have to work. Do you want today off?”

Kiara processed that. She quickly shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. I wanna work today.” She couldn’t risk missing JJ.

Mike nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. “Alright, but I don’t want you to overwork yourself. It’s Summer vacation, you can stop working now.”

“No, I don’t want to,” Kiara said. She has wanted to quit her job since the second her parents gave it to her, really, and was only working so she could afford to go on a wildlife retreat with Sarah. She had a new motivation to stay, though, and that was in the form of a tall, lanky, blue eyed boy. She couldn’t tell her parents that, though; not while knowing how much her parents would hate him. He was Luke Maybank’s kid, after all, and a Bilia. It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation.

Kiara jumped when her phone buzzed, revealing a text from JJ that mentioned seeing her at the grocery store. She stood up, abandoning her breakfast, and waved her parents goodbye as she rushed out the door, ignoring their concerned shouts. She already had her employee bag with her, and clocking in early wouldn’t do her any harm. She knew that it was ridiculous to be so eager, and because there was still bound to be at least an hour before JJ arrived, but she couldn’t help her excitement.

She paused in the middle of the street as it dawned on her that Sarah was right. Maybe she wasn’t in love with him, but she definitely liked him. She had known him for two days and was running to the place she dreaded just for the chance to see him. She’d never felt that way about anyone before.

Someone bumped into her, alerting her that he has just frozen in a very public area. She turned red as she continued walking, acting more reasonably now that she had remembered there were people around. Every now and then, someone would look at her oddly, their eyes lingering for just a moment too long, and Kiara knew they were Vorsos sensing that she was overwhelmed. She brushed the stares off and and walked into Fresh Carrera’s, relieved to see Sarah.

“Woah, hey, are you alright?” Sarah asked the second she saw her. It was probably already clear that Kiara was a mess, but her emotions were sure to be a much more accurate teller.

Kiara sighed. “You were right. I like JJ.”

Sarah, grinned and gently pushed her arm. “Yeah, I know. I’m always right. But seriously, are you okay? No offence, but you look terrible.”

“None taken,” Kiara yawned. “I was talking to JJ all night. I got, like, two hours of sleep.”

“Why’d you bother coming in?” Sarah asked. “Do I need to remind you that you’re the owner’s kid? Your last name is literally on this building.”

Kiara blushed. “Yeah, but, JJ might be coming in today.”

Sarah smiled slyly and nodded. “Oh, I see. You’re waiting around for a chance to see your boyfriend, huh? Okay, okay. I see you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kiara said, adding a roll of the eyes for affect. “But, yeah, I wanna see him.”

“Me too,” Sarah grinned. “He’s cute. Absolute eye candy.”

Kiara gasped and pushed her friend’s shoulder. Sarah giggled and ducked away, preparing to push Kiara back when she stopped and a grin stretched across her face.

“Cutie’s here,” she said, her voice low so JJ, who was waving at the pair, wouldn’t hear.

Kiara spun around, her eyebrows furrowing as she got a good look at JJ’s face. There was a bruise blossoming against his cheek, accompanied by a small cut on the same spot. He was smiling so widely that she wasn’t even sure he knew it was there.

“What happened to your face?” she asked.

JJ shrugged. “Got in a fight with a Cursor. Cocky bastards.”

For a second, Kiara believed him. Cursors had the ability to move quickly, but they were as dumb as a rock and their egos stretched to Mars. It wasn’t too far fetched for him to have gotten in a fight with one, especially since he was a Bilia. It was when she saw Sarah that she realised something was up. She was staring at him, her head titled and her mouth slightly ajar, her eyes darting back and forth. She was seeing something, and it wasn’t good.

Sarah wasn’t saying anything, but JJ almost looked nervous that she would. The two were staring at each other, Sarah trying to decipher his secret as JJ tried desperately to hide it. Kiara just watched them, wishing she could see whatever was going on in their heads.

Eventually, Sarah looked away, shooting a concerned look in her coworker’s direction. Kiara returned the expression before she was pulled away by JJ, who was back to grinning like he usually would. She searched his eyes for a moment, trying to see whatever Sarah had. She wasn’t a Vorso, though, and there was no telling what Sarah had seen.

“Are you okay?” Kiara asked gently.

“Of course,” JJ quipped. “Are you? You look tired.”

Kiara’s chuckled. “Yeah, thanks to you. I was up all night because of your relentless texting, man.”

JJ smiled, knowing she was joking. “Oh, you loved it.”

The bickering continued for a while, eventually ending with JJ grabbing more peaches and going. She walked over to Sarah as soon as he was gone, the question on her mind obvious.

To her surprise, Sarah just shrugged. “It’s not really my place to tell.”

Kiara took those words in, trying to decipher what they meant. It was obvious Sarah knew what had happened with JJ, but she’s usually tell her everything. Sarah never stopped talking, and she over-shared everything she’d learnt. JJ’s secret must have been terrible if it meant even Sarah wasn’t letting it go.

-

Kiara was buzzing with excitement as she waited for JJ to arrive the next day, but that grew into worry as hours passed and there was still no sign of him. She texted him, a quick ‘where are you?’, and waited again.

And waited.

And waited.

And he never arrived.

The next day, the same thing happened, and it happened again the day after that. Kiara hadn’t spoken to JJ in three days when she began to get anxious. There were so many possibilities, each of them equally terrible, and just thinking about them made her stomach twist.

She rushed to Sarah, who was serving a shopper, and waited until she was done. Sarah noticed her distress and approached her slowly, looking concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t heard from JJ in three days and I’m really worried,” Kiara rambled. “I know he couldn’t have just ghosted me or something, but he’s not like that, you know? We’d only been talking for a little while, but I feel like I really know him, and this isn’t like him at all. I’m really worried, cause I don’t know what happened, and it could be anything. Like, what if he tried to shoplift and got arrested, and now he’s just sitting in jail with no one to bail him out? Or what if whatever happened the other day that you won’t tell me about happened again, but worse? Or-”

Sarah placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find him, alright? My shift ends in fifteen minutes, and we can leave then. I know some Bilias we could text in the meantime, they might know him.”

Kiara nodded, calming down as Sarah pulled out her phone and dialed a number. “Hey, John B? Yeah, it’s me. Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I’m fine, I’ve just gotta ask you a question. Okay, do you know a JJ? He’s a Bilia, like you. Oh, really? Great! Do you know where he might be? Wait, you haven’t seen him? Shit, we haven’t either. Yeah, he’s been stopping by at the grocery store. My coworker’s in love with him. Yeah, Kiara. He told you? Cute. But, seriously, she’s really worried. Do you know where he might me? Uh huh. Yep. Okay, thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

Sarah hung up. “Okay, John B says he’s gonna meet us with another friend, and then we’re going to drop by his house. They’re best friends, isn’t that such a coincidence?”

“Okay, that’s great,” Kiara said, “but did he say anything about what’s been up? Does he know what’s wrong?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, he’s just as clueless as us. He says JJ does this a lot, though, so you shouldn’t worry.”

“Where is he usually?” Kiara asked.

Sarah shrugged. “John B said they usually just find him at his house, or that he eventually wanders over to his place. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Kiara exhaled shakily. “Should I be this worried? Is it weird?”

“No, you care about him,” Sarah replied. “And he cares about you too. I can tell.”

The pair waited for a while in an uncomfortable and stressful silence. Sarah perler up when a van pulled up outside, and a tall boy with dirty blonde hair and a bandana around his neck walked out, accompanied by another boy that was talking about something the other wasn’t listening to.

“Hey, Sarah,” the first one greeted. “This is Pope, and you must be Kiara. I’m John B.”

Kiara nodded, and then waved at Pope, who smiled shyly and looked down.

“Can we go now?” Kiara asked, motioning to outside.

John B led them into the van. “You seriously don’t have to worry. He disappears a lot. It’s usually just family stuff, but he’s always fine. He’ll be fine.”

Kiara has never been in the Bilia part of town. They were secluded from everything else, living in small, run down houses. Her parents always warned her to stay away, and she’d listened until she met JJ. She had never believed that a Bilia could be someone she would care so much about.

“This is it,” John B said as pulled up in front of a small, one-story house Kiara would barely call a home. It was messy, covered in wild plants and cracked paint.

The teens all clambered out of the van, John B and Pope in the lead as the girls trailed behind them uncertainly. The boys looked around for a moment, circling the house quietly, searching for something.

“His dad’s not home,” Pope told them as they came back. “We can go in.”

Kara was relieved by that. She didn’t think she could face Luke Maybank, even if he didn’t know who she was. If he was as bad as her dad said he was, she didn’t ever want to meet him. She couldn’t imagine how hard it was to have him as a dad.

She froze, suddenly piecing something together. The bruise on his face, the terrified look on Sarah’s face. She didn’t want to think it was true, but was it his own dad that had done that? Her heart felt like it was going to burst from her skin, and she was about to spiral when her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet “oh, shit” from John B.

She hadn’t even noticed that they were in the house. Pope and John B were staring at something, but Kiara couldn’t see anything where they were looking. She looked to Sarah, who seemed just as confused as she was. John B knelt down, his arms outstretched, and the girls both gasped as JJ suddenly appeared.

He looked absolutely wrecked. His knees were pulled to his chest and his eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears. He was crying silently, but it turned into sobs as soon as John B pulled him into a hug. Kiara felt her breathing restrict as she watched, frozen.

“She’s dead,” JJ sobbed. “She’s dead.”

His mother. Of course. Kiara had almost forgotten, but it was one of the first things he mentioned to her. It was the reason she let him take the can of chicken soup, and why she told him to come back. It was the reason it had all happened, but she hadn’t even remembered.

She sat down beside him and began running her fingers through his hair. He leaned into the touch, and Kiara felt an odd swell of pride as he began to calm down. She gently ran her hand up and down his arm, bringing him closer to her as his breathing began to even out.

“Hey, watch this,” she whispered, taking out a small drink bottle she always kept with her.

JJ lifted his head, watching as she rose the water from the bottle and made it swirl around. She made it circle in front of JJ, making little shapes and patterns. He just stared at it, eyes wide and fascinated, as it turned into a little floating love heart. He looked mesmerised, tears forgotten, and the other three teens were in a similar state of awe.

She played with the water for a while, letting JJ tell her what to turn it into or where to make it go. Eventually, he was smiling, and Pope, John B and Sarah walked out of the room. Kiara head ached from how long she’d been using her Dicio, but she didn’t mind if it meant JJ was happy. She’d do anything to comfirm that.

“Thank you,” JJ said, his voice hoarse. “You’re pretty cool.”

Kiara let a single droplet of water fall on his nose, making them both laugh. “You are too.”

[game-dev-duo]

The process and completion of the dialogue box.

~ Hello there! Tokki here ~ Recently I completed the dialogue box asset, so I thought it'd be interesting to share what the very first prototype looked like! As well as share the concept art with you. The prototype was made in the quest to really jump into the game and then start developing it from there, it was a starting point. We knew we wanted our game to have dialogue and the ability to speak with different characters, so that's where we began. At first, I made a mock-up with it and then I provided Crisp with a blank version so that he could begin coding a dialogue system. It started off as green because that's both Crisp and I's favourite colour. The characters used for the demonstrations are currently my original characters, I'm using them as placeholders until we have official character portraits of our own characters. Tabitha was used at first, however, once a core aesthetic was decided Vivian made for a better placeholder visually. ( Thank you for your initial help though, Tabi! ) From then on, we started to discuss what kind of themes we wanted to have and what setting it would be in. After that, I started to have a lot of ideas in my head about what it would look like visually and decided on a specific, cohesive aesthetic. A victorian-inspired journal/diary. So I started to doodle until I fell in love with the look of something, and that's where the concept art was chosen as something to model off of. Part of my artistic process is working until I love what I've made, if I don't feel anything then it's not right yet. And if I've been working on it for a long time and I still feel nothing, I know it's time for me to change directions and try again. The chain was incorporated as part of an idea I had, where based upon the player's progress/relationship with the character they were speaking to, the chain would gradually weaken until it fell apart. It would have been to give the player a sense of progress, a reward for their work once it fell and a visual metaphor of the storyline. Ultimately, I decided that it was visually disruptive and based on the nature of a dialogue box, it would have just covered up the dialogue text. I think it was a neat idea, but I just didn't care for it and it would have posed a lot of problems. Honestly, though, I do much prefer how it looks without the chain. When I was working on creating the official, polished asset, I ended up adding some nice detailing on the golden frames as I wanted to give it a really unique character/style. If the story ends up in the direction that Crisp and I spoke of, the detailing will be visually representative of some of the story's concepts! At first, the assets did not have any shadows around them but I later added them to make them able to retain visual strength and not have any difficulty with the background art that was to be added in future. It shouldn't blend in, but it also shouldn't stand out. The shadows also helped to make sure everything was visually consistent as the selection boxes I later made also have them. ( Something I heard whilst researching UI was that what makes a good UI, in a way, is that it isn't noticeable at all. It should be so seamless and pleasant to interact with that it's something a player barely notices. ) I later took a ridiculous ( maybe to some ) amount of time deciding on the fonts. I'm very happy with the selection I made! I'm glad I spent so long on it, after all, I believe every single thing matters and adds to the visuals of a game. I believe that the right font can help make a game whilst the wrong one can help break it. ( I'm talking about you, comic sans. ) One font I really loved for the name title didn't have the right licences so unfortunately, I had to remove it and replace it with a different one. I wasn't sure about it at first but after I gave it some time, it grew on me! I really feel it adds to the victorian feel, I wanted to give the player the sense that they've 'been formally invited' to the location the game takes place in. I feel as though the nameplate feels like it honours the

characters that are speaking. Something about that pretty, gold, handwritten calligraphy feels special to me. I've been researching like my life depends on it, trying to learn as much as I can about UI design and UX and in my research, I came across a UI/UX designer that said there should be around 15-26 words per dialogue box because it's far easier on the reader. And it also allows the characters more chance to use different expressions alongside their dialogue. This totally opened my eyes as it was something I hadn't thought of before, and he's right! My prototypes were far too dialogue-heavy, so I resized the box to be smaller and that ended up making it look a lot more visually appealing, too. I was unsure about the character portrait sizes so I took a look at lots of visual novel games to see what they had done and I realised that my characters were scaled far too small. I personally didn't love the sizes that most games chose to go with, I find them to cover up too much of the screen, so I decided to go with my own in between. Not too big and not too small. The last thing I'd like to talk about is the indicator! After staring at our mock-ups intently for far too long, I couldn't help but feel as though something was missing like I could add one last thing to really perfect it. The cherry on top. And then it occurred to me that we're going to use an indicator to indicate that the dialogue is finished and you can click to see the next dialogue. So I played around with it for a bit and then I had the perfect idea! A quill!! What better way to add to the visuals of the dialogue box than to make the indicator a feather quill. I'm ridiculously in love with this detail and think it's the best idea I've had so far, haha. Sorry to write such a long post, but this is the first update I have and a lot ( not a ton but a significant amount ) has happened since the game's inception. My next updates should be a lot shorter, I just wanted to take you through the process and progress of how we've gotten to the place we are now. One thing I'd like to mention though is how important these small things are to me. I really truly believe that every single detail is incredibly important and that's why I take it all equally as seriously as I would with any other aspect of the game. I believe it all adds up eventually. If every single thing shines as an individual, the whole thing can shine together to make something beautiful. Every single thing is part of the game, so every single thing should be treated with care. I want that to show. I want the player to be able to look at this game and see straight away that a lot of love and effort went into it. Thank you for your time reading this, I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope that it was of some interest to you! ~ Tokki 🌸

[kc-anathema]

I’m so sorry I did another long post so soon...

So a long time ago, I received a flame on Spec Ops 98: Jazz's Interrogation at Soundwave's Pedes. I hadn’t received a flame in a long time, and I haven’t received one since (which is amazing, since this was on chapter 26 back in...dear heavens, 2015. This fic is officially an epic.)

In fact, I stopped reading the flame once I realized it was a flame, about four chunks in. 2015, five years ago, I was changing principals, changing schools, trying to figure out how to marry my Canadian then-fiance and figure out immigration. (Fun type--marry her in Vegas, wait a couple years, bring her over. Use a lawyer to make sure it’s all kosher.) So yeah, didn’t read.

And then a concerned reader mentioned to me that I didn’t deserve this awful flame and that they loved the story. And I thought...oh yeah, there was a flame on this. That was a couple months ago.

I finally decided to break the flame apart like I used to. This feels very nostalgic to me. I found out that this is really the flamer’s only claim to fame--they flame fics and troll writers. I’m not going to name them then, although you can find the easily on the ff.net review page for this fic.

My father once told me that, if anyone ever spraypainted slurs across my house...leave the slurs up. Don’t pay to remove them. Let the awful words stay up until everyone in the neighborhood is begging us to take them down again.

I think leaving the review there says more about her than me. And I’m going to enjoy clawing this apart, I think, like a cat scratching apart a lizard.

Flame begin:

We’ve got a problem if Soundwave is involved here and he’s not pulling his usual ‘Decepticons, Superior’ line. Add on a fic about perverts and we get this. Ah, well. What are you gonna do?

Remember the character Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory, and how he said “Bazinga” all the time? That kind of went from a joke to an overused character crutch. Like ‘dynomite!’ or ‘did I do that’? Is it really good to rely on a character line to the point where we can call it ‘usual’?

“I’ll take my pleasure and that sweet aft” – Sounds like a cheesy commercial for Robot Chicken. Fireflight is locked up in a dungeon and is about to be whipped by a BDSM Starscream. That’s not at all OOC. Basically it’s a fanfiction that talks about fanfiction.

I...um. Yes. Yes, it’s an OOC line modeled directly after pulp fiction zines and tijuana bibles. I literally looked up several of those on the Internet Archives and various old men’s magazines covers. It’s not fanfiction directly, although it’s certainly what fanfic evolved out of.

Do these look subtle? Low key? Classy? Tasteful? It’s cheap trash and it’s fun as hell. I don’t think readers at the time thought that these were in any way true. This is right along the lines of drawn hentai. So I think the flamer admitted despite themself that I did good.

“We’re stuck here in the middle of a war...we don’t have time for sex” – That’s right. But that fact doesn’t apply does it?

...reading trashy, porny magazines is not sex. It’s actually something you do when you can’t get sex for whatever reason. I would know. A lot of us would know. Apparently not the flamer. No one thinks that “hey, I got a chick/dude willing to bang right now...but the new issue of Men’s World is out! Can’t miss that!” Unless you have some serious fetishes that your partner is too weirded out by, I think this does indeed apply.

Then Jazz gets captured and lo and behold, Soundwave is revealed to be the Christian Grey of the story. I hope he has some maid outfits for Jazz.

...our flamer hits the sludgy bottom of the joke well and grabs their shovel. They do not try very hard for originality in their insults. And, while Grey was a jerk, Fifty Shades wasn’t quite a prisoner of war scenario. No, that was a cheap romance for chicks. I’m writing more akin to men’s...oh.

The flamer is a chick.

Their only bdsm or bad romance experience is with Fifty Shades.

I don’t think they read much.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd we have a shower scene. Damn if it’ll be Carrie!

Iiiiiiiiiiiii did not write a shower scene?

Dudette, did you even do the reading you say you did?

There’s no point in adding moral ambiguity, especially in regards to Soundwave. He won’t be swayed easily, or at all, by Jazz’s speech. He’s cold hearted for a reason. He serves the Decepticon cause until the very bitter end. He’s a lot like Shockwave that way. Highly doubtful he would find meaning or even the relevance of writing pornographic fanfiction, but eh, this was never meant to be serious, was it?

...no. It’s a humor fic. The flamer is criticizing a humor fic for being humorous. Kudos for identifying the genre? I mean, the flamer is also complaining that I did not write Soundwave as a one-dimensional factionalist without examining what that means for him and how the mission creep has left the original political crusade behind. It’s not like I took pieces of Soundwave from Gen1, IDW, and the comics and blend them all together.

This reminds me of the fanboys in the TMNT fandom who keep pushing for every iteration to simply rehash their nostalgia boner for the original toon. I feel like I’m getting the Transformers version of wanting less of this:

because it isn’t the familiar characterizations of this:

“So what’s the down low?” – You, Jazz. You’re going to give the down-low to Soundwave. I can’t wait to read how shiny his robo-vagina is.

...wow. Classy there, flamer. Also I really don’t think they read anything. This whole fic is plug n’ play. There’s exchanging of cables, talk of code and positronic souls and sparks and revving engines. There isn’t a drop of sticky, spike, or fluids.

Chapter 15’s sex scenes bore me. Nothing is worse than having a guy ask to remove every bit of clothing. Just do it already! And why is Jazz a virgin? Come on!

Look--the thing about sex and fetish and whatever revs your engine is that it’s not going to rev everyone’s engine. You don’t like the type of interfacing here? Fine. I don’t like those kind of sex scenes in my porn either. But I wasn’t write that scene for porn. I wanted write warbuild Jazz dealing with violent subroutines while interfacing with Prowl. I had fun with it.

Why is Jazz a virgin? The previous 15 chapters discuss that.

I really don’t think the flamer read the fic.They scanned for anything remotely sexual, so I don’t think I’m going to take anything they say about this fic being ooc for perversion’s sake.

“Everyone here is damn pervy” – In which a character talks about the author.

“We gotta get Soundwave to finish writing his story” – Why? I mean, what’s the point? It’s not doing anything for them, unless it’s to show how castrated Soundwave is. I’ve seen him act better in Mary-Sue fics.

There is a whole plot about Starscream and Skyfire, and I thought I could trust the readers to be intelligent enough to make the leap with the parallels between Soundwave and Jazz.

This is literally the only review that questions why Jazz said that.

The Mary Sue shot just echoes the Fifty Shades swipe. I think this flamer did most of their flames roughly ten years ago--the insults are pretty dated.

The Decepticons don’t know about Ratchet? Why? I mean, he’s one of the oldest dudes there. He has a reputation. When you have a reputation, people know about you. It’s inevitable. I think your inner logic slips a lot.

At this point, I literally have 21 previous chapters of world building.

I am not surprised that the story’s logic was slipping away from one of us.

It’s funny to read the forum responses in the story. It’s like the author is trying to make fun of detractors yet ends up making fun of herself.

Okay, this part is hilarious for a reason only briefly noted in the fic. I think that the only things this can refer to are the comments from the chapter titled Flames of the M4gn1f1c3ntSkyPr1nc3--because those are literally the first flames/comments I put in the fic. And I didn’t write them!

My wife wrote them! I don’t write Starscream well but she just poured those out like water--she’s seen more of the hysterical side of fandom, particularly the earlier TF fandom, and I snipped out pieces for the fic.

So...I mean, we’re pretty happily married, so I don’t think she counts as a detractor. ^___^ Ultimately I started writing this fic for her.

“Your optics make me crazy” – Not at all a cliché.

Good thing I didn’t write that, then. Here is that little section in the Prowl/Jazz section. (Took me a bit to find it since I plugged that into the Find and couldn’t bring it up.)

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

I like what you do to me. Jazz allowed him in, tilting his helm. I never really understood it, y'know? How mechs could lower their guard so much. Let someone this close.

And now? Prowl drew back, wanting to see Jazz for the answer. With a quiet ping, he warned the other mech even as he raised his hand, touching Jazz's visor.

I still think you're crazy always going on about my optics, Jazz said, venting even as he disengaged the locks and let Prowl gently remove the blue polycarbon.

Your optics are perfection, Prowl corrected him. And you let me see them. Hundreds of mechs wondering what's under that visor, but I get to see.

Still shy about letting someone else see them, Jazz turned his head, only for Prowl to touch his cheek and turn him back, coaxing his optics to open with a soft brush of his thumb.

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

Not bad for an asexual, I think. I mean, it’s not like I have a ton of hands on experience, being kinda broken that way. But I have read plenty of pulp magazines and pulp radio shows!

This didn’t take long. I skimmed through this work, because there was so little content. Lots of ridiculous shit, though. Soundwave writes fanfiction, the Autobots are weirded out/turned on, capture Soundwave, Soundwave realizes that his whole life was a life and decides to defect. Yeah, about that. He wouldn’t do it lickety split, let alone EVER. Hell, the reactions in the forum bits show what some would think of this, if they weren’t too busy fapping.

The funny thing is I don’t think the mechs can even fap. I don’t write them doing that. But yes, flamer, I do believe that you skimmed through the work. Particularly since you’ve recounted it backwards...Soundwave captures Jazz as the capstone to a long internal conflict within himself, but rather than go through chapters of internal monologue and Decepticon politics, I started the story as close to the inciting action as possible, not quite in media res.

I won’t hash out why Soundwave defects. I mean, I spent 22 chapters at that point explaining it. But it’s my fault the flamer skimmed, I guess?

Needless to say: the romance bored me senseless. It was poorly written, and overall there’s really no skill attached to this. You don’t grip the audience and Jazz’s virgin mode made me roll my eyes. Reads like a first-time waifu manga.

Nah.

I’ve been writing way too long and am more than self-aware enough of my own failings that I’m also pretty self-aware of my own strengths, too. And no. It’s not poorly written. I definitely feel I could improve the first few chapters a bit, but that’s because I wrote those over five years ago and I’ve improved since then, too.

Empty insults. Maybe if the flamer had gone so far as to give a critique beyond a couple of misquoted lines and their own headcanons, I might have listened, but there’s literally nothing of substance here beyond a child tantrumming that I’m stupid and bad and should feel bad.

As for the other pairings, booooooooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring.

Usually I have a fun time setting these fics on fire, but this one bored me senseless. Yes, it was stupid, but the author’s attempt to authenticate it are just as sloppy as anything else.

“Authenticate”?

Is this person talking about using fandom tropes as my setting?

There are 22 chapters at the time, and now 51 chapters, building up this world and using roughly 20 years of fandom background to inform the fic.

Maybe if they hadn’t skimmed, they might have found something interesting. But considering that they skimmed over anything character related and stopped for the sex scene--I don’t think that says anything about my writing and more about their own proclivities.

They were trying to read one-handed. A plug n play fic. A long meta look at fandom in war in a humor fic. And they came here for the sexy times.

I don’t have to draw the conclusion here, do I? Well, for the flamer, probably. And then they’d glance at it for a second, call it sloppy, and say I showed nothing, and what I showed was boring, and that boring stuff was ooc anyway.

One thing I am thankful for is the fact that it is not long.

51 chapters later and I’m still not done.

Nothing’s worth remembering in this and I don’t need to tell you that these characters either act like simpering imbeciles, or are virginal waifus. All I’m missing is a senpai in the bed, some tissues, and some high quality lotion.

...why do they keep referencing gay human sex? I mean, I get it, they’re saying that it’s similar to yaoi fics, but.

This is anti-yaoi with its last hurrah, isn’t it? The late 90s, early 2000s, rising from its sludgy well to try to shame the easily cowed and intimidated, the young writers easily startled by long lines of text. No wonder the citations used are so...15 years ago. I mean, who was talking about Sues even 5 years ago. That criticism kind of faded a long while ago, even then.

I think the sad thing is, even the badly written Sue sex fics end up being more interesting than this. If Ebony Darkness D’Mentia Raven Way were to come along, I think this story would get better. What with her ‘I shot him a gazillion times’ lines.

...and there’s the cherry on the top. Third cheap shot firing blanks. Sue + Fifty Shades +...shit, I can’t even remember the title for that infamous fic. It’s that old.

...this fanfic flamer is old.

Like, don’t get me wrong. We’ve got fandom moms and grandmoms who cut their teeth on fandom print zines in the earliest conventions. They’re not “old” in the same way.

This person has lost any joy, humor, or playfulness that fanfic comes from. No one should go into fanfic expecting fine art. I mean, sure, it happens sometimes, but this is a playground of pulp, experimentation and just plain childish fun.

All in all, not worth remembering. It’s makes me tired to read it. It’s not even stupid enough to make me laugh. You’ll still get a fail rating for me, especially with the shitty version of Soundwave here.

Yes, fanfic flamer. You are indeed tired.

He should be on Big Brother. He’d be great making soy lattés and purees.

Big Brother in 2015 was in its 17th season. There were roughly around 6 million viewers at the time. The demographics for the tv viewing audience were graying even by the 2000s, and by 2015-18, it was significantly older.

Granted, it’s a very tenuous conclusion to draw, but combined with the old fandom references, the anti-yaoi vibes I’m getting, and the fanboyish desire to curate their own headcanon of a character to the point of insulting writers on the internet...

Flamer grew from being a reader to a bitter, old person angry and the whipper snappers for writing stupid, trashy crap that they criticize with broad, unspecific insults.Flamer is the stereotypical mean adult in any 90s cartoon or heavy metal rock video.

A little depressing. Poor flamer. I do hope they found more creative, engaging, and positive things to do.

Me? I just wanna rock.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk on pulp fiction and bitter cultural creators.