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#I also feel like this are kinda subpar

dirtytransmasc · 1 year

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do you have any ao'nung and tsireya bonding w their new brother, spider, hcs?? <3

I had almost finished writing this post out, and then my computer died, and I wanna scream. anyway

both siblings are good kids, so when their parents take spider in and tell them to treat him as one of their own, they do it. spider is their baby brother (we don't know ao'nung or tsireya's ages, so they might be younger, but I don't care, spider's the baby of the family as far as I'm concerned) from the second he's brought into their home

tsireya is the sweet supportive sister from the very beginning, she loves having another baby brother to coddle and annoy (cause that's what big sisters are good for). ao'nung is the pain in the ass big brother who would die before someone harms a hair on his head.

tsireya is the empathetic, emotional protector sibling; she helps keep him grounded, gives him a rock to hold onto when he can't go to their parents, since his sort of parental trauma doesn't just go away easy, no amount of proper parenting with undo it, so sometimes he needs someone in his corner when his mind gets the best of him. ao'nung is more of physical protector, he makes sure no one messes with his baby brother, that he takes care of himself, and that he doesn't push himself too far.

tsireya is normally the one who follows him when he sulks off, and it always works out the same way; she goes to find him, sits next to him without saying a word, and then waits for him to fall against her before she wraps her tail around him. sometimes she starts humming or singing, sometimes they talk, other times they just sit and listen to the water or the forest. he feels safe to just feel and react and cry when he's with her.

ao'nung is his partner in crime, they're attached at the hip, constantly butting heads, and always ready for chaos. ao'nung taught spider everything he knows about their culture, diplomacy, leadership, and mischief; so not only are they good at pissing each other off, but they're good at breaking havoc against any poor unfortunate soul, and getting away with it (they're best friends and it shows)

when spider first joins the village, but was not yet adopted, tsireya tries to be kind and welcoming, as she did with the sully's joining the village. ao'nung does the same, in the way that he treats spider like he did the sully's; he antagonizes cause he's a stupid teenager. he hits a sore spot fast and see's spiders true nature very quickly. he thought that spider was a relatively well-rounded kid like him, thought he could take a couple jabs here and there, he didn't know how badly he had been alienated his whole life, so the few stabs at spider's human nature revealed how sad and anxious he was, how hard he tried to fit in. he's pretty protective after that, so you can only imagine how he reacted when he found out how spider was treating himself, and how he was being treated by the sully's after neteyam's death.

when spider goes through his mental and physical burnout, its ao'nung that won't leave his side; he practically force feeds him when he won't eat, is constantly offering him water, watching him sleep, forcing him to clean himself up. he makes sure he won't lose another brother (spider's body gave out during the clean up of the battle, ao'nung subsequently witnessed it, and after losing neteyam, it made him feel a certain type of way).

ao'nung and tsireya were the first people to get spider to smile again.

spider brings out tsireya's competitive streak, they always have some sort of petty bet going on between them; who can finish chores first, who can piss off ao'nung first, etc.

ao'nung and spider, no matter how they present themselves, are fair, intelligent, competent leader's. they are s perfect duo when it comes to helping tonowari maintain the village during the war times and they're are constantly surprising everything everyone with how serious they can be at times.

spider likes to show his siblings his live by making them things or doing their hair. he likes quiet time with his loved ones.

ao'nung and spider are a mirror image of neteyam and lo'ak respectively, and it makes them both a little sad, and it chills the Sully's to their cores.

when they sleep together as a family, the kids sleep between their parents, with spider in the very middle, cause they all know that boy needs all the cuddles.

#my mind is in an angsty gutter today #most of these are kidna sad #oops #I also feel like this are kinda subpar #my brain is super slow today #I'm probably gonna make another one eventually #cause I had to force these #anyway #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #avatar spider #spider avatar #aonung #tsireya #spider tonowari'itan #hi'i'tsyil te fkew'weopx tonowari'itan

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

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practice | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut

⇢ WC: 8.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink

⇢ SUMMARY: you usually spend friday nights on your own. tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip. so I had it beta'd by @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist. love u bye!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday.

The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.

One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked.

Anything and everyone, except you.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.

You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…

Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell.

You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face.

You’re cute, right?

Atleast you tried to look cute.

Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself.

You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.

You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.

You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.

You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay.

You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.

You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you.

The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-

Knock. Knock.

The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake.

Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment.

You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.

Jeon Jungkook.

His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily.

Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?”

“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”

“Are you drunk or something?”

“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well.

You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire.

“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?”

You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”

Bambi.

That stupid nickname.

You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default.

"What do you mean you’ve never played before?" He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak.

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you.

"You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?"

You answered him curtly with a scowl.

"Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you." He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you.

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-”

“That’s disgusting,” you scoff.

“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”

You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.

If only you could mute your evil brain.

“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room.

He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it.

“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.

You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though.

“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags.

“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.

“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes.

You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.

He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch.

Wow.

Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made?

“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.

“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”

“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”

“Well aware.”

“Jihyo?”

“Yep.”

“Nayeon?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”

You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.

But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…

Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night.

You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.

The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful.

He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook.

He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”

“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.

“It helps me stay still. Please?”

“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy.

He purrs and closes his eyes.

He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.

That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.

‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’

‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’

‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’

“Jungkook, shut up!”

“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”

“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”

“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather.

You give him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”

“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.

“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.

“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.”

“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”

“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns.

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. What’s your favorite position?”

“Jungkook!”

“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”

You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over.

“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?”

A pause.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”

He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his.

He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?”

“Ah, I see now.”

“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness.

“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.

“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”

Crickets.

Your lack of response tells him the answer.

When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?”

He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I always make the girl cum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”

His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”

“Jungkook…”

And then he's kissing you.

It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.

He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.

“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”

You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod.

“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

He’s been wanting this, too?

“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.

You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking.

“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture.

Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes.

Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.

“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”

“Never…”

“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.”

That had you absolutely drenched.

You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit.

He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.

“Jungkook, please…”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.”

He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.

This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned.

It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.

There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.

He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”

You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt.

You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.

He doesn’t like that.

He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs your hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of.

You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest.

You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.

Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”

You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.

His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”

“Like what?”

“Have you ever squirted before?”

You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”

“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.

“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one.

He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm.

You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.

“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”

“Why?”

“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.

Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you.

You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.

“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.

“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down.

“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.

“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”

“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy.

“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.

Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.

There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.

He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.

“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”

You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.”

Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.

“Please, Jungkook, more…”

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special.

“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”

You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?

Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip.

You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.

“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.

His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.

“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”

You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.

You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.

There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.

And then nothing.

Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches.

Complete solace.

Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.

There’s a metallic taste on your tongue.

You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.

“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?”

“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”

“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”

“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”

“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.

“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”

He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.

His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples spiked and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.

You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours.

“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”

“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket.

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”

“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary.

It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.

That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.

You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.

“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.

“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely.

He didn’t have underwear on either.

You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.

You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”

He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.

He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.

He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort.

“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”

You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”

With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”

Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.

Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin.

You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.

“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”

Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.

You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive.

‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant.

“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.

A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.

“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.

His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.

He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.

“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.

You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.

“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”

He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.

You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you.

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”

He could’ve busted right then and there.

“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy.

You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.

Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.

“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.

“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.

He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care.

Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.

His orgasm is stunning.

“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation.

“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp.

“Thank you,” you speak shyly.

“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”

You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before.

“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”

He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”

Special.

You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”

“Practice round?”

He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.

He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”

Friends.

It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.

You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.

Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.

He looks so beautiful and peaceful.

You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.

The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.

“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies.

He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

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nomsfaultau · 9 months

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got an idea for a fic that I can’t pursue:

Basically, The Blood God is offered his usual blood sacrifice. Screaming, crying, chanting, the whole nine yards. But his cult messed up, because Tommy isn’t actually an orphan. Like on paper he is, but Technoblade can sense it’s not true and is like ‘Bruh stupid worshipers can’t do anything right.’ So he leaves Tommy alone bc he can’t have his followers getting lazy and subpar with their sacrifices obviously. But then also he’s saddled with this mortal kid he doesn’t know what to do with and he feels kinda bad since it’s not Tommy’s fault the cult messed up. So he awkwardly tries to take care of Tommy while still trying to live up to scary blood god expectations and it’s a lot of extra work on his plate. General beauty and the beast type shenanigans of Tommy going from cowering from the big scary god to demanding (and getting) a piggyback ride mid big important ceremony.

Anyway, eventually they figure out why there was a mixup when Philza (normal human man, v angy) fights his way past all the cultist in pure mama bear mode ready to kill the blood god for taking his adopted kid. Only to find Technoblade half way through overacting a bedtime story.

Cue custody battle because ‘hey! That’s MY sacrifice!’ ‘THATS MY SON YOU YELLOW BELLIED FALSE GOD SON OF A-‘

I think some of the cultists end up converting to Phil since he’s somehow way scarier than the nine feet tall blood eyed boar god.

#I have so many wips I cannot #But it’s cute so I’ll share #Sbi #sleepy bois inc #sbi fic #angel duo #bedrock bros #tommyinnit #technoblade #philza #Dadza #sbi au #something to nom on

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howellslides · 5 months

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babes my experience is not universal and blah blah blah but when i bring up how much pain i’m in by using positivity and humour, that is not the time to respond with sympathy and sads. like if i’m joking about it i’m either not ready to be upset about it or i’ve already done being upset about it, you being upset about it for me is just pushing me into that space unnecessarily and kinda makes me feel like i’m not allowed to like? talk? about my day? unless i’m catering to your emotions in the first place.

also, like, just match my energy, the conversation is gonna be way funnier if we’re both joking about it cuz let’s be real bodies are already engineered terribly and there’s something hilarious about mine not even meeting that subpar standard

#this isn’t shade on anyone btw if you’ve had a convo w me recently like this it’s one of many i’ve had lol #in person and online #and yeah honestly the bit where i feel like i’m doing something wrong by not being super sad all the time is kinda weighing on me a lil #and also yeah other people are gonna appreciate sympathy and that’s okay but not me pls #i’m p good at actually asking for sympathy when i need it i think so just. yeah. match the vibes.#disability #fibromyalgia #chronic pain #fibromyalgia problems

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chaifootsteps · 25 days

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need the fandom to understand that 'character who is the soft one who cries is not equal to the character who is in the right'

it makes sense for a show that's primed it's audience to think abuse is just limited to obvious cruelty and insults (but only when the show says it counts, HB cared about Blitzo being a jerk to Moxxie for all of one conversation) but it's frustrating to see this show touted as 'sooo deep' when it could have done a lot more to show the different types of manipulation and abuse with the material it already has

like, a character that's soft and weepy and constantly rewrites reality to favor himself? that's A grade PSA material for how abusers don't always look like Stella or Crimson and make their targets feel like they're the ones who are crazy or in the wrong

Oh yeah, and for the contingent who says Stolas would be treated way more sympathetically if he was a woman - I kind of doubt it, personally. I think a character like Stolas if he was genderswapped would be judged far more harshly for what he does in the Stol/tz storyline, not less

like the audience would probably jump to 'he reminds me of my mom/girlfriend/other female friend who also uses crying and looking pathetic to get people to take her side despite treating me like dirt', 'this or that trait is such a narcissistic thing to do'.

the show already expects its audience to treat the female characters with way more scrutiny and suspicion after all, but I feel like people are more inclined to recognize the figure of the 'narcissistic woman who's only emotional reality is her own' or the image of 'mom who neglects kid for new beau' than they are when it's a male character

and that's not a bad thing, to be clear! it's good the fandom can recognize abusive behaviors in women, probably most often their mothers (though it is disturbing how little they can acknowledge the emotional landscape of the female characters - there's any number of reasons for Stella to feel disenchanted with her life and the fandom cares about none of them)

the problem is they can't extend that logic to Stolas. they can't see how Sad Owl Twink is distorting reality around his relationship with Blitzo and refusing to treat him like a person, or how he's a subpar dad to Via. it feels like the bar for male characters is being set way lower as long as there's a convenient excuse. and it seems part of the reason is more than just Stolas being male, since logically Blitzo wouldn't be getting it in the neck from Stolas fans so much

it seems like it's also because they seem him as soft and harmless that on top of the extra credit male characters get for doing nothing, they've decided he can do no harm. men already deserve a medal for being connected to their emotions, so if Stolas appears soft and sensitive it means he can't possible be abusive or neglectful at the same time. which is just not true

sorry if this is rambling, kinda thinking out loud

Thank you for sharing these thoughts aloud. It's absolutely true...Viv and her fandom seem to have it in their heads that abuse looks like screaming and insults, that sexual abuse looks like being held down (also that it doesn't count if you "get away,") and that is so, so unbelievably dangerous it genuinely chills the blood. It's going to get someone hurt.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #helluva boss critical #stolas critical #actual blog post

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devisrina · 11 months

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is it ever confirmed that Sydney is lying about The Beef being her dad's favorite restaurant growing up or is that just spec? I kinda got the vibe that was just something she came up with so she doesn't come across as stalkerish. It'll be interesting to see how the truth comes out 👀

It was not confirmed at the moment, but I feel like it was implied.

Let’s take a walk

S1 ep 1: There is a noticeable pause that Sydney takes after Carmy questions why she wants to work at the Beef. You’ll notice her diverting her eyes to the ceiling and her words getting slower in pace, seeming like the acting choice was deliberate to come off as a lie.

She also kind of slips up by telling Carmy she knows who he is. She asks “what are you doing here?” She doesn’t care much about the place and believes it is subpar, and I doubt that would be something she would word that way if it was a special place.

Richie would have known who she was. Richie works at the counter, he engages with the regulars that come into the Beef. If Syd went to the beef with her dad every Sunday, he would’ve recognised her. The show even signifies her being apart of the new things that Carmy is implementing when Richie says “don’t go hiring new fucking br*ads without talking to me first.”

S1 ep 2: she would’ve had an idea of who Mikey was if she was a regular. While Mikey does work in the kitchen, he is referred to as being a social person. So if her dad really appreciated The Beef, I think Mikey would’ve walked out to thank him for his patronage.

S1 ep 8: this is the most obvious one. In the dinner scene with Marcus, she tells him that her dad and she wouldn’t eat out a lot. This goes against ‘come here every Sunday.’

S2 ep 2: Her dad does not give a single damn about the Beef becoming the Bear. If it was a ‘special place’ he would’ve at least said something about it.

I also think that while Carmy could believe the story at the time, he subconsciously does not believe her either. I mean, he’s very intuitive with her. I think in s1 ep 6, it was where we saw his curiousity towards the matter, when he called everyone that she previously worked for. He said “because your resume is excellent, this place is not.” He’s still wondering why she even wants to work there.

And I do believe she lied as an effort to not look like some fangirl stalker. Syd does admire him, but she also wants to stand her ground with her position.

I think it’s also why the show was holding out an interaction between Carmy and Emanuel (Syd’s dad), maybe this is when the truth comes out. It would be enjoyable to watch!

#the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto

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wbswag · 1 month

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Pretty sure this is one of my most Hardcore Delusional takes yet, but it’s something that’s been in the back of my mind ever since chapter 312 where it was shown that All For One was in direct proximity to a defenseless Chisaki… and didn’t steal his quirk. I remember when the chapter was more recent, there was a bunch of people theorizing that AFO stole the Overhaul quirk, but over the last 100+ chapters, it’s become apparent that he probably didn’t.

And I thought to myself, “Why not steal that quirk? It would help you and your whole plan greatly. Why on earth would you pass up that opportunity?” And these feelings were thrown back in my face by chapter 419, where it got confirmed Chisaki was in one of AFO’s facilities as a kid (He had a previous, even better opportunity to steal the quirk, which challenged my original idea that AFO let Chisaki keep the quirk to maintain his manipulation of Shigaraki).

So the question is: Why, for the sake of everything holy and unholy, did AFO not steal Chisaki’s quirk despite having every chance, reason, and more to?

But I was reading quirkwizard’s post about their opinion on the 419 Overhaul-Decay reveal, and it came to me, kinda baselessly but still—what if he literally can’t? What if there’s something about the quirk or Chisaki that makes it so that AFO literally can’t take the quirk somehow?

Because like quirkwizard said, it makes no sense for AFO to have just not stolen the quirk? Like, I can semi-see what he was going for with stripping the reconstruction part when he gave it to Shigaraki to promote pure destruction or whatever, but why not make the copy and then take the original for himself or Garaki? Especially back then, before anyone but AFO knew about Chisaki?? And also, yeah, how DID Chisaki get out of the orphanage? Did he just breakout and run away like Touya did? Or was it something deeper? I’ll probably brainstorm it and make another post, BUT if anyone has any personal theories about it, PLEASE tell me, I love reading Chisaki theories!!

But anyway, yeah. Is it that maybe he actually can’t? Is that why he had to resort to merely making a, in his own words, subpar copy? Because why was stealing Chisaki’s quirk never even on the table, for anyone, in either of the blatant two different situations it could’ve easily been stolen??

I feel like the Overhaul being the origins of the Decay quirk thing is to deepen the parallels between Chisaki and Shigaraki (obviously), but the real question is why. Why deepen the parallels between them to that extent, in that context? Unless there’s still more to be revealed about Chisaki and his past (like @ikamigami ‘s theory that Chisaki is AFO’s kid, which is a theory I cannot stop thinking about btw) that’ll further connect him and Shigaraki.

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red-balloon12 · 5 months

Text

Everybody Hates Lila (And Why It’s Concerning Sometimes)

Lila Rossi is not a stranger in the Miraculous fandom. In fact I’d argue she’s more infamous than Gabriel in some cases. She’s despised by nearly everyone and while some reasons are more justifiable than others, she’s all around not a good person and a mid at best character.

But here’s my deal with it. The fandom hates this girl to I’d like to say an….unhealthy degree. Like the amount of salt this character gets is unmatched. And I feel like the causation of all of this salt doesn’t really live up to the response.

Lila is a liar who causes characters to act out of character very often. And not only that but she also is Marinette’s main rival now and is a jerk to her. She’s underutilized and her lies aren’t that convincing and yet the story wants to convince us she’s more important than she really is pre butterfly miraculous.

This is Lila’s character summed up. At the most I’d expect is frustration mixed in with mild dislike. Reasonable but not over the top. Instead though, I see SEVERAL people make so many salt fics and talk so much shit about her that I just have to sit down and say….y’all need to chill. You all seriously need to chill.

The fandom talks about this character like she’s the spawn of Satan, something we’ve been criticizing Astruc for doing with Chloe, all because she doesn’t have as many redeeming traits as her. Did we forget that they’re BOTH kids? Both of them still have room to improve on themselves.

And I’ll admit it, I was one of those people who kept on saying “Why demonize Chloe when we have Lila” but thinking on it now, neither of them deserves to have that fate. If we REALLY need a character to do the whole “people don’t change” thing, why not Gabriel?

It’s so much better to have this lesson taught to adults to not be like Gabriel, to accept change and loss and to be better. To teach how heavy the impact of a lost love can be and how old age isn’t an excuse to be “stuck in your ways”.

Plus the lesson works better for someone who’s older than for teenagers who’s literally at the stage of their lives where change is everything. And I’m not saying Lila needs to be redeemed or she isn’t allowed to be a villain. What I’m saying is that the over salting on her character, a character that can be easily fixed and patched up, is kinda dumb and kinda annoying to see…especially when some people do like Lila.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened years ago with that one fan that claimed that they loved Lila. That’s what happens when you take salting on a character WAY too far. And I can say that it’s only gotten a little better.

I just don’t understand why people can’t spend their energy talking about how to make a character better instead of salting on them 24/7 and this goes for all of the characters in ML.

I’m gonna be in the minority when I say this but Lila doesn’t deserve to be salted in as much as she does. She deserves reevaluation and a true villain arc. The constant bashing and insulting her at any chance ain’t it.

But you wanna know the thing that frustrates me the most about the Lila salt? How she started getting salted on in the first place. Aka, her being another barrier to Adrienette.

If y’all don’t know already, I don’t like the lovesquare and even back then I didn’t like it. And when I started seeing people hate Lila for this reason, I got very annoyed. It’s the same reason as to why people hated Kagami and it’s a stupid reason (imo). At least the other reasons why she’s hated had some foundation and sense.

TLDR: Lila is a mess but she’s not a mess that’s beyond repair but the constant salting on her and her character isn’t going to do anything. (If you really wanna salt on someone, salt on the writers for making her writing so subpar)

#miraculous #miraculous opinions #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #lila rossi #Lila sugar(?)#ml fandom critical #fandom salt #slight ml writers salt

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harrywavycurly · 3 months

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Your post about the brother gc made my mind wonder about having all the Eddie’s in a gc that you could text and ask about boy problems 😂

Hiii lovey!! Idk why instead of a group chat my mind went “what if there was a 1-800 number for you to call for advice from the Eddies??”🙈 it would be like this:

“Thank you for calling the Life Advice Network this is Steve speaking how may I help you?” “Uhm…I just need to know if the guy I’m interested in is…also interested in me…” “Ah got it let me transfer you to Husband Eddie he is our go too guy when it comes to deciphering men’s intentions..one moment.” “Hi this is Husband Eddie Munson how can I be of service to you today?” “Hey Eddie uhm…the guy I’m interested in is kinda being weird lately and I’m not sure if-” “Describe weird.” “Oh uh he ended our text conversation by just saying later…when normally he says like bye gorgeous or something along those lines.” “Later? He said later as a form of goodbye?” “Yes…why did you just sigh? Is that…is that not a good sign?” “I’m gonna be honest with you sweetheart I think he’s no longer interested….have you hung out with him recently?” “Not this week he’s been really busy…” “right…yeah…I would just move on before you really get your feelings hurt.” “Okay…thanks Eddie.” “Anytime…oh you’re gonna be asked how this call was and if you don’t mind leaving me a good review that would be great but if not it’s fine…enjoy the rest of your day and don’t let this get you down there’s plenty of other dudes out there.” “Thank you I appreciate that.”

“You’ve reached the one and only Bestfriend Eddie how can I help you?” “Hey is it weird if your guy friend all of a sudden starts holding your hand and opening doors for you?” “Holding your hand? Dudes only hold hands with someone they like….unless you need help and our hand will make it to where you won’t like die or something but yeah that’s fucking weird.” “You think he likes me?” “I wouldn’t want you to assume he has feelings for you just because he’s holding your hand and opening doors but if he starts offering you rides everywhere and buying you shit then yeah he probably has feelings.” “He’s bought me lunch three times this week…” “oh yeah then he’s for sure got some feelings brewing and I’d say just ask him straight up if he’s into you or not.” “Really? That won’t freak him out?” “Only one way to find out…” “if he laughs at me I’m calling back and telling you how horrible you are at giving advice.” “Trust me you’ll only be calling back to tell me I was right.” “Whatever…that’s for the advice.” “Anytime.”

“Hello this is Vampire Eddie-” “did you just say Vampire?” “Yes…you got transferred to me because you’re having issues accepting the kind of respect and love you deserve is that right?” “I just don’t think I need to be treated this-” “You deserve to be treated as if you hung the moon and all the stars because to your significant other that’s exactly what you did for them.” “Oh…really?” “Yes…I know it’s hard to feel as though you deserve to be treated like a queen because for the most part you’ve let yourself get used to the subpar treatment from men because that’s all you thought you could get therefore making you think that’s also what you deserve but it’s not.” “Oh wow…okay so it’s not weird that he always wants to be around and is just…super nice and attentive?” “Weird? No it’s not weird…it’s how every man who wants to pursue you should be acting.” “He brought me flowers the other day because they reminded him of me with how pretty they are…” “and how did that make you feel?” “Like he’s too good for me…but I also really liked it.” “He’s not too good for you get that notion out of your head he’s just a gentlemen and you’re used to pardon my langue but you’re used to fuck boys.” “I guess that’s true…so I should keep him around then?” “If he makes you happy then yes.” “Okay…thank you Vampire Eddie this has been really interesting.” “You’re welcome…I’m here if you need me but I think you’ve got it figured out now.” “Have a good day.” “You as well.”

#1-800 Eddieverse #vampire!eddie munson #husband!eddie #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson concept #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au #the life advice network #Eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader

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trashyreptilian · 20 days

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And here I am with one reference sheet done! Only a FUCK-ton more to go haha,,,

Reblogs are appreciated! :3

===============================================

Biography (long read):

-General Info-

Full Name: Alfred Thorn

Age: 18

Height: 6'0'' ft

Gender: Male

Sex: Male

Species: Human

Homeplace: Huntstrail, Michigan (USA)

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Greyromantic asexual

-Other Info-

Personality?: Seemingly a nonchalant type of guy, just living his life and avoids attracting attention. Often feeling like he doesn't fit in with society or any kind of community. He's not much for showing strong emotions, not near random people at least. Typical for him to carry around an "I don't care" attitude and crack jokes during bad times, but it also serves as a means of protecting himself. Being well enough taught that showing his vulnerable side to the wrong people, can possibly be used back against him. The calm exterior hides an emotionally struggling artist, who's suffered through past childhood abuse from his own mother. Sometimes that pain rises to the surface, and accidentally shows up through unexpected mood swings or frustrated/defensive outbursts. However, Alfred knows how badly he manages his own negative emotions. This kind of heated temper shows up when heavily provoked or felt like he's backed into a corner. He may seem like a loner, yet in actuality, he's got a few close select people he cares about a lot. And depends on, more than he'd like to admit. But solely because of that, he shows a strong willingness to go far to protect them. Even if it means he might somehow risk his own life in the process. Seen in these instances, his more assertive and bold-self comes out.

Thinks Before Acting?: It's mixed with him, either does or doesn't depending on the situation. Typically, he'll try thinking over his actions and words. Especially when he can sense a bad outcome if he's not careful. Though, he's far from being the most calculated guy.

Positive Traits?: Mellow, modest, imaginative, soft-hearted, protective and audacious.

Negative Traits?: Reserved, insecure, confrontational, defensive, self-destructive and resentful.

Way Of Speaking?: Can talk in two languages, the main one is American English. Has knowledge in speaking Spanish, but it's kinda subpar. Remembers mostly from the lessons he had in school. On the odd occasion only uses it around his closest friend, Simon, who encourages him to improve. His voice is calm and soft, with no particular accent. At times, loves using a mocking or sarcastic tone. (Headcanon voice: https://youtu.be/2rHRztFGOm8?t=1)

Occupation?: Works as a stock clerk at a furniture store. Assists with unpacking delivered items, organizing the stockroom, inspecting inventory and so forth. Also, he takes overnight shifts when possible for extra cash. Of course, the entire job itself is for financial stability. Otherwise, he cares little about it. Had hoped to get into some kind of art career instead, possibly becoming a cartoonist. Sadly, he's never gotten such an opportunity as he grew up. Didn't help that he lacked complete confidence, and still does to this day. So it all remains but a little fantasy he thinks about.

Powers/Skills?: With Alfred being human, don't expect any overpowered abilities like how demons and angels have. However, in his very rare case, having a supernatural being, more precisely a simulacrum, for a parent did unexpectedly help him improve physically, and made him able to defend himself. At a younger age of sixteen, he was gifted his first weapon which was a pistol Glock 19. With help from his father, he trained in remote areas. Shooting useless items that were used as targets. Now, he's well-practiced enough in using it properly, discreetly carrying it when out at nighttime. Of course, not limited to just a pistol. He's also got a metal bat safely tucked away in his bedroom. But for as long as he's known, anything can be a weapon. In a fight, he'll manage some inventive ways to beat someone up. Not exactly a person with a strong-build, yet he makes up for it in endurance. Fairly fast when running, most likely to outrun anyone. The type of guy to pick his fights. Besides all that, survival skills. Learned a few tricks throughout all the times he's gone out camping, moderately skilled living in the wilderness. Particularly good at starting a fire. Maybe a little too good.

Hobbies?: Main hobby is drawing, pretty much remained so since he was a kid. His art style is very stylized, expressive and exaggerated. Taken inspiration from his favorite animated shows and movies. He'll usually use a regular sketchbook with a pencil and pen to draw. But he dabbles in other unique methods like graffiti, and pastel art. A more recent past time is using a camcorder. What he chooses to record is random. Can either be a quick recording of his father’s cat, or footage of activities and ramblings. For whatever reason, he just finds it relaxing. Not to mention, it's his way of better preserving memories besides taking photos. Something else he does to unwind is watching movies and TV series, or playing video games. His favorite genres are horror and thriller. On the lighter side, he loves all stuff that's animated, comedy and adventure fiction. Also, collects merchandise related to his favored media. Considers it a luxury, so he's not gung-ho about it. While these are things he typically does alone. Camping and exploring abandoned places, are done together with his dad. Since they can't hang out together in broad daylight, they always go out during the night. Their activities start regularly, but sometimes end in some sort of chaos when they get overboard. With property ending up mysteriously ruined. Just a not so subtle clue into what exactly happens on their trips.

Habits?: Often smokes and drinks. The first one is easier for him to keep controlled, the other one is an addiction. Possibly inherited from his mother's side of the family. He's aware of that, yet doesn't seem to grasp how poorly it could affect him in the future. Both substances are used when stressed or annoyed, but gravitates towards the alcohol mostly. An insomniac, his sleep schedule has been, and still is, irregular. Tends to be active out of nowhere during later hours, and taking overnight shifts doesn't help him. All coupled together, it's easy to imagine his self-care is kinda non-existent. Not to say he's lacking in it, it's out of sheer tiredness and apathy. Irritability is a rather serious tendency due to trauma, and a main fueling reason for the reliance on bad tendencies. It only worsens when experiencing a chain of obstacles, no matter if minor or severe. There's no clear pattern as he can seem fine in the moment, yet takes but one nudge to tip him off the edge. Resulting in sudden outbursts, causing to shut himself off from others.

Relationships? (Simplified): Alfred's dad has remained an integral part of his life. Who in fact, happens to be a simulacrum from Hell, named Him. It's been the only figure he's ever looked up to and known as family. Same demon was originally supposed to replace his actual biological father. In a rather malicious, literal sense. That never happened, as the target left his family behind during the early years of Alfred's childhood before anything transpired. Then living with an abusive mother got him in a worse vulnerable state. So getting attached to something inhuman, but caring, shouldn't be surprising. Their steady bond continued while no one else had a clue on any of it. Entering his young teenage years, Alfred was unphased about his own father figure not being exactly human, once Him revealed so. Despite the few times he had to see or hear it lashing out onto other members of its own species, he never seemed disturbed by its more violent actions. Him's raw wrathful nature is no secret, for sure. He looks past as it being over-protective since so far, he's only seen it attack out of defense for the both of them. Many times he has wished to be as reliable, strength-wise. Since Him's the only father, best friend, and role-model he's ever had, he holds it up in high regard. Alfred would go to Hell and back for it. But the relationship is far from perfect, both struggle a lot with communication. Opening up emotionally is hard especially. For Him, it's worse. As they say: like father, like son. They stay silent about their relationship, for safety's sake and to avoid unwanted attention. Nowadays, they live together in a little run-down apartment. Finally secure, in a place they can call home.

Interacting with a simulacrum for nearly his whole childhood didn't make Alfred the most extroverted person. After frequently having trouble socializing, he gave up trying to befriend people his age. At some point, he simply preferred hanging about on his own. However, one person managed to start a friendship with him, Simon Belrose. A new student that had joined the same high-school, and class, as Alfred. They were both young teens, around the same age, when they first met. His outgoing and amicable personality had Alfred spooked, he reasonably assumed that he'd be left alone by him. Having not much thought about the new guy, becoming friends with him was even less on his mind. Up until they both had an interaction, in which Simon had shown genuine interest in his art. While the compliments were validating for Alfred, he was wary of the other anyway. Took a bit to get acquainted properly. Over the years, they've grown a lot closer as friends. But Alfred still remains secretive on a lot of stuff happening in his personal life. Usually for understandable reasons, yet Simon would appreciate it if they were more open with one another. Nonetheless, they get along pretty great. Both admire certain qualities the other has, that of which they don't themselves. They enjoy pissing each other off until someone breaks first. Random screaming matches over absolutely nothing happen frequently. And their silly scuffles always get hectic.

Moving back onto otherworldly beings. Due to Alfred's long bond with a simulacrum, a certain figure grew interested in finding out more about the two. One way or the other. After a major event, involved with a rather unpleasant (putting it lightly) "person". A series of unusual circumstances followed suit for Alfred. Which all led to meeting a theraangel, called Xanthan. When their first proper interaction happened, there was nerve-wracking tension. He wasn't sure what to make of them, or what the angel's true intentions were. Heavy convincing was needed to earn Alfred's trust. To his own surprise, a mutual respect developed as they bonded over certain grievances each had. Later on a different date, Xanthan becomes his guardian angel. Part of a deal made with his father, Him. Solely due to this guardianship, they find more things in common. Eventually gaining a deeper understanding of each other. Their shared connection with art helps them be more open and start an eventual friendship. Alfred slowly views them as a sort of mentor. Maybe even as another father figure. Seeing how he appreciated Xanthan's longer living experience, once he felt comfortable he'd seek out advice from Xan alone on the rare occasion. Very few people manage to break down all the high sturdy walls that angel puts up, Alfred managed to be one of those people. He proved to be pretty insistent in making that guy a close part of his life.

Speaking of enemies, there's no one in particular who really fits in with this definition for Alfred. Besides perhaps some bitter students from his high-school that he got into fights with, or his mother and sister he has distanced himself away from. Still none of them fit such a defining strong label as "enemy". As he just wants to forget about these people entirely. Yet, that doesn't mean he won't make adversaries in the future.

================================================

General rules for all of my FCs and OCs:

-While I'm fine with getting inspired by my work, please do not just steal the designs. -I am uncomfortable with my characters being unknowingly shipped with other people's characters. -Fanart is all well, great and welcomed! As long as it isn't sexual. I'm fine with gore but please, keep my characters away from your own sexual material.

#oh the sweet relief of just having to design characters however the hell I want #truly a liberating feeling to work with my own shit now heh #replica hysteria #alfred thorn #original characters #original project #my art #my reference sheets

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bookwyrminspiration · 29 days

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Call me out if I’m wrong here, but I feel like sometimes, when you’re in this fandom, there’s a lot of contradictory?

I feel like not that long ago people were upset that others were saying they didn’t like something, so wording changed.

I do believe that we should be honest on whether or not we like something (while being kind/gracious about it), but that might be the reason why some people are more nervous to just come out and say it?

Again I may be so incredibly wrong; I’ve been dipping my toes in and out of the fandom for a while now.

I think you have a valid point. There's a lot of people in the fandom, and we have different opinions, some of which contradict each other. Sometimes one view dominates, then the other. We vacillate and change, which is only natural.

Regarding the recent wording change, I'm not sure what specific thing that was in response to--there was some conversation in the vein of "if you don't like it, why are you here?" Which was more in response to the overwhelming negativity the series has started to accrue with the long interims, its current direction, and fans getting older. The sort of "people don't want to hear about how much you hate the thing they love." Even if you've established yourself as a fan of it previously.

Which I think can coexist alongside simply saying you don't like something. I can say the new cover isn't really hitting for me without tearing it apart and making those who really enjoy it feel bad, you know? I don't mind it, understand why it's like that, and appreciate Jason Chan's artistic prowess, but that doesn't make it interesting to look at.

But you're right, there's been this push to justify why you dislike things, at least in online spaces. So it's harder/makes people nervous to say "I just don't like this." Myself included. Instead it's "this was rushed" "this was last minute" "Shannon's publishers are pressuring her" "her editor's are pressuring her" etc.

Which, again, is entirely possible. Writing and publishing is hard; it takes a lot of work and pleasing the industry isn't easy. But there are points where--I think--people approach it with bad faith.

To use the cover as an example again, a lot of people are saying it's rushed. Possible. But is there a history of rushing covers? Not that we've seen, all the others have been spectacular, detailed, and thorough. What would they gain by rushing it? They could meet deadlines sooner, have something to share with the audience since we're in a weird period. But they could also damage their marketing with a subpar product, especially given the series' popularity. Why do we think the cover looks rushed? Its simplicity, its different mood. But, again, Shannon said that was intentional. There's Keefe's appearance, which is really hit or miss for people. I don't think Keefe not looking as attractive as people imagine/want is a result of rushing, but because there's an impossible standard for him as The Boy of the series. And so on and so forth.

The point of that being we've come to this conclusion, I think, hastily. While book 9.5 wasn't the original plan so of course timelines change, I don't think S&S has a history or motive to rush. There's already an established precedent for delays when necessary, the cover came out later than others, and there's (i think) a solid, purposeful reason the mood is different.

Could I be wrong? Absolutely. But the rapidity of the conclusion and with how much it feels we've been outsourcing our dislike the past few years I'm started to feel a little skeptical. Boy who cried wolf kinda thing. Was it rushed again, or do we just not like it? Feels like a slapstick explanation without further examination

And of course you don't have to analyze everything, but some things are a bit more complex, you know?

Point is: I think we're overusing these explanations (pressured, rushed) and at this point if we don't delve further into it it starts to lose its meaning. There is an argument for being rushed and pressured! But without getting into it, I can't tell if we're thinking it through or just avoiding saying we don't like something for fear of judgment/reprisal.

#kotlc #long post #quil's queries #nonsie #I hope this makes sense #i haven't fully articulated this before because I became most aware of it with the new cover #i'd seen it but brushed it off prior #especially with the graphic novel because i DO think that one was rushed #but with this it just reached a point where I'm like. okay. IS it rushed or are we just saying that #as a genuine invitation to think about it #i'm not saying i'm right and everyone's wrong or that it's impossible there's pressure and rushing #just like a. have we considered everything before continuing with this conclusion or are we defaulting to it #does that make sense?#i was to be very clear this is a non-judgement post and not intended to antagonize anyone or make anyone feel bad

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magz · 7 months

Note

what made you not able to type normally? because i remember you had perfect grammar before and used to make rly long text posts

Around December 15, 2022 was main one (more info below)

Had seizure / stroke-like thing. and bad covid - at same time. while also stress + abuse.

then started speak and type odd immediately after wake up. words arrange odd - in all language.

which then, similar health event happen multiple times after.

each time was improve from consistent effort speech + language therapy, would get worse after another event. but slight different.

It actually affect more ability speak irl. where it progressive lost any ability speak, besides. sounds.

as sometimes am able more coherence text. often with strain head.

and there Are posts with more edit where spend long time change, or use autocorrect more + languagetool + search online + ask help. so have better grammar. sometimes end up pass out after.

so am just focus those on describe post or transcribe. or if think post worth it have good chance feel physical awful.

have delete some the text posts around time of main incident, as was live document what happen - which not feel good - too vulnerable. though many mutual were there ... and know.

had previous seizure / stroke-like events before incident - which gave speech impediment (permanent), or made guts worse (permanent) than was before, or made unable move (temporary) / worse move (longer), or photophobia extreme light sensitive (frequent / chronic).

anyways, there times when grammar n logic n language general ability not great, n other times more manageable.

other times other parts cognition is affect instead.

is to point sometimes where see past self n posts n way speak n creation, n cannot recognize as self.

am have old videos with voice on old art channel. so we were not born nonverbal. n of course had many long perfect grammar posts without much effort on this account. most those followers were from back then. is not secret, is... burden.

have you ever had your body n brain / mind fail you severely?

anyways: dominican medical system have been subpar. n they made some worse. [insert traumatic n backwards medical]

n am kinda like this n there a lot am not know about future n present.

am hope this was make sense enough, did try, you know.

#anonymous #ask post #medical #o post #response #kinda difficult keep track everything so maybe some huge important thing am forget mention

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six-of-cringe · 6 months

Text

You know what? The cancellation makes me sad, but not because I liked the show, more just because of what could have been. The show had the opportunity to be so good and broach the topics and themes with such intricacy as the books did, but it largely failed to do so. I can see how people could still enjoy the show if they were watching for other reasons, but for me it just fell flat in very bitter and at times offensive ways. It was surface-level, taking the outermost layer of each character and discarding the rest to fit into a disjointed story. I wanted it to be good, I wanted it to delve deeply into the characters and stories I love, but it didn't, and its cancellation just reminds me of that disappointment. Though seeing people upset about it makes me sad too, it also makes me feel somewhat isolated in my reasons for enjoying the book series in the first place and my feelings about the show. I would have liked to have a show that I could feel angry about the cancellation of, not a weird sadness-relief.

Also kinda bummed out for the actors!! They were clearly very excited for their roles and had little to do with the subpar writing.

#i have no sense of schadenfreude #i've won but at what cost #the show made me unhappy i should be happy right now #but i'm not. i just spent a big paragraph trying to explain why but i'm still not really sure why #seeing people upset about the cancellation of a bad show also makes me frustrated that they don't enjoy soc for the same reasons i do #which is silly but thems the brakes #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #six of crows #soc #six of crows fandom

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vro0m · 6 months

Note

Do you think if 2024 is just as bad/maybe slightly better we will still see Lewis on the grid? I know he wants that 8th title that is rightfully his, however, it has to be the most difficult thing mentally, physically and even on a spiritual level to have the hunger, fire and want to fight up front but the machine underneath you just doesn't do what it's meant to do and doesn't seem to align well with the driver in the seat which is so disheartening to see.

Hard question. Ultimately I don't know, because I don't know him and I'm not in his head, but there's a few things I imagine would have an influence on that decision.

SORRY IT GOT SLIGHTLY LONG (duh)

1- The contract

First of all let's not forget he's contracted until the end of 2025. We all know contracts can be broken but it does make it seems he's determined to not give up quite yet.

2- The car

Of course the car performance is the main thing. It's very unlikely, unless there's a legit engineering miracle happening, that the W15 will be able to challenge RedBull. But I don't think he's necessarily asking for that much. I think if the next car feels better to him in testing, and then he sees the development finally reliably go in the right direction, even if slowly, it'll give him enough hope and fire to sustain the effort for a bit longer.

3- The 2026 regs

If the car stays bad or doesn't get much better, the second main question imo is can he keep himself going until 2026 to see if the new regs change the situation. Can you imagine retiring at the end of 2025 just for the 2026 car being good again? It would be infuriating. 2026 is in quite a long time but I do feel like he wouldn't leave without checking it out if he can't get what he's still here for until then (and he almost certainly won't).

4- The mental side of things (amp up the speculation)

I feel like it's pretty clear he had a retirement plan and the Abu Dhabi 2021 finale has pushed that back. He also said he wasn't planning on still being there at 40. So on the one hand, he might be kinda done? Or more like he wishes he was done? I do personally feel like at times he seemed tired and disengaged (understandable). But it's not necessarily a bad thing to be able to put some distance between F1 (or anything really) and oneself imo, and not be starving and frustrated all the time because it's not going how you'd like. Take Alonso. Alonso wants to win extremely bad as well. I mean he hasn't won in 5'000 years but he's STILL trying at his old age (I'm half-joking). But ultimately his detached attitude in the face of lack of performance is what he owes his longevity to. He still wants it, but he doesn't let it get to him too much when he can't get it. It's not sustainable to be angry about something you have no control over 100% of the time. You will burn out. You need to let go.

On the other hand, can Lewis really detach? No one has been as fully dedicated, no one has sacrificed so much for so long, no one has put as much effort in it, no one has set such a high standard for himself than he did. His own teammates have been saying that. His own teammates have burnt out trying to keep up. AND he's being going at that pace for so long, been on the top for so long, I wonder if he even can let go enough to wait for better days without exhausting himself mentally in the meantime. He's not used to it. I'm not saying his career has been smooth sailing, he's had subpar or even bad cars before. But not for like. A decade. In a sense he's precisely in the position his teammates have been in. But instead of them VS Lewis, it's now Lewis VS the car, I guess? My point is in both cases, when you give it your 110% and don't see ANY result coming your way, you can't keep giving 110%.

Basically it's a fight between the fire in his gut and the dull reality of things. I don't know who wins because we haven't really been there before.

5- Time

The only similar situation was the last few years at McLaren but he was winning races even then. And his solution was move teams. I think it's unlikely he will do that again, most of all because he's running out of time. Back then he had the time to build up from the ground again, but it's not the case anymore.

So the last question is, if he does keep at it, until when? At some point he will have to retire. If he manages to win his 8th, then it's pretty clear-cut. If he doesn't, when does he stop trying? The longer he stays, the further from quitting while he's ahead he is. Maybe it's just my own feelings talking but I feel like it would be also very disappointing and annoying to leave in such a lackluster way after having accomplished so much. Although I guess that's often the tragic fate of champions. Anyway, there must be some kind of deadline in his head, maybe not a fully hard one, but at his age and with where he's at in life with the rest of his projects, I don't think he's blindly walking along anymore. We have no way of knowing what the deadline is though. Time will tell.

#f1 #lewis hamilton #2023 winter break #vro0m's asks

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