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#and none of my interests are all that interesting to those I know
luvvyouforever · 2 days
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exclusively yours - sdv harvey x reader!
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-> synopsis: harvey realizes some things about himself and one of those is that he can't stand it when other people look at what's his.
-> warning: NSFW MDNI MDNI MDNI SMUT! jealous harvey mhm. a touch of dom harvey what can i say. slight shane slander nothing too mean. a bit wordy. you've been warned.
-> a/n: i hope you all enjoy! i wrote this whenever i had time free over the course of a week when i should be doing homework.
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there's a rare fire in his eyes that night at the stardrop saloon. he's not sure what it is that he's feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he knows for certain that he doesn't like the way shane's eyes rake over your flower dance dress that you had been wearing since this morning when you danced with the doctor, and not shane.
he's reminding himself of the ring on your finger, the farm that you live in together, the bouquets you've gifted him, the necklace that took ages to procure because the weather had to be just right. and yet, none of that is easing the jealousy threatening to bubble up over the surface.
the lust in shane's gaze becomes even more apparent as the crowd dwindles. he's talking to you and harvey can barely make out the words coming out of his mouth, but then there's a touch to your elbow that was well-timed to come after a joke you just made, and now harvey is striding over, wrapping a tight arm around your shoulders to stare at shane.
"what was so funny?" he asks and the interested inflection in his tone is entirely fake. "i know my wife has such a keen sense of humor, doesn't she?" you don't miss the emphasis he puts on 'wife.'
shane's grown awkward now, and he shifts hsi weight from one foot to the next. he's been caught and there's nothing much he can do to salvage this situation. "yeah, uh, she just made a joke about summer. nothing serious. sorry," he stumbles out.
"mhm, yeah. so, we'll see you around?" harvey says which effectively ends the conversation and forces shane back into the booth he was originally sitting down in. with a breath of relaxation, he turns to you with a different kind of fire in his eyes. one that makes you shiver with palpable excitement. "ready to go home?"
you nod and his hand moves from your shoulder down to the small of your back to give you just a slight push away from prying eyes and out the door of the saloon.
neither of you speak on the way home and it feels like even the nature around you is holding its breath in anticipation of what will happen when the door to your farmhouse swings open. the farmhouse becomes visible in the distance and there's a sudden weakness in your legs. subconciously, both you and harvey pick up speed until you find yourself speed-walking to the front door.
he wastes no time in pulling keys from his pocket and unlocking the door and, ever the gentleman, letting you go in first.
once he shuts the door behind him, his hand immediately finds the small of your back again and you feel your body inch closer to the bedroom. anticipation grows and grows until your back is leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom and harvey's stature is looming over yours.
this is new, this is unexplored, this is uncharted territory. harvey had never once been anything other than unadulterated sweetness in the bedroom. he cared about your pleasure, your comfort, and your enjoyment more than anything. but now there was something calling to him to give into this urge building in the pit of his stomach.
harvey's hand crawls from its position by his side, up the curves of your stomach, then stops at the base of your head. a soft gesture tilts your chin upwards so you're looking directly into his brown eyes. you feel small underneath his intense gaze, but it's certainly not a bad feeling.
"you know," he begins with a breath, "i've never considered myself a jealous person." you bite your lip in anticipation, feeling warmth grow from your core and radiate outwards. "but...the way shane was looking at you tonight...i think we just need a small reminder about who you belong with."
there was so much intensity behind his words despite them coming out in a soft drawl. you could have buckled right there on the doorframe but his body was caging you in so that there was no way you'd fall.
with a breath and a swallow, your hand travels from your side to his waist. "then remind me," you tease.
harvey's eyes darken and something about this excited you to no end. his strong hands bring you close to his chest and his lips hurriedly meet yours. they intertwine in a mess, teeth clashing, tongues bumping, but it sets your entire body alight. with ease, harvey inches you away from the doorframe and to the bed where you fall down onto the soft mattress. the white dress on your body falls around your waist, revealing the underwear you had on.
then, harvey growled. like truly, really growled as if something had took over him in these few seconds. he had been suppressing this urge to be with you intensely for fear of hurting you or embarrassing himself. but he's spurred on by your moans and the heat he feels radiating from between your legs.
after making out so roughly that your lips are left feeling numb, harvey's hands travel down your body, stopping at the hem of your underwear. with a strong tug, he pulls you to the edge of the bed and sits on his knees in front of you. he'd regret placing so much pressure on his aging knees in the morning, but that didn't matter now. what mattered now was making you cum to the point that you are unable to think of another man but him.
without much warning, harvey's mouth met your core. you threw your head back to the bed, letting out a moan that made you glad you lived so far from any other person. he was like a man possessed, seeking some salvation in the wetness growing and growing in between your legs.
he pulled away, but not for long as his fingers gripped the hem of your underwear and slid them down your thighs, calfs, and off your feet. for a second, he sat on his knees, marveling at your pleasure and whispered, "you must really like this, huh?"
his voice was laced with lust and darkness. before you could even respond, his mouth met your middle again and every part of your body lurched forward, in awe of the pleasure he was giving you. there was a coil in the pit of your stomach that was growing, wounding around itself, tightening with every stroke of harvey's tongue against you.
"harv! fuck!" you managed to choke out. you could feel his lips tilt upward in a smile, and just when you thought there was no possible way it could get better than this, his finger teased at your hole before plunging in. harvey's anatomical knowledge guided his finger upward, curling up to the spot that sends you reeling.
his name was a prayer on your lips as that coil tightened till the point you think it might snap. you could no longer hold it when harvey added in a second finger, curling both upwards and creating a pressure that pulled the coil till it all fell apart. you were a mess, hair sprawled on the comforter, dress halfway up your body, wetness dripping from harvey's fingers.
he leans back on his knees, eyes blown wide with lust. his lips glisten and his carefully groomed hair and mustache are destroyed. he's breathing heavily, but he didn't stop his frenzy there. with rushed movements, he tugs off his tie, his button down, his undershirt till there was nothing adorning his body.
"need this off," he mumbles, pulling at the hem of your dress. you come out of your daze to rise up and slide the dress off your body. "jesus...," he whispers. he rises from his spot on the floor and gestures for you to scoot up to the bed. slowly, his body comes over yours and once again you become caged in his grip and his scent. "do i tell you that you're beautiful enough? because if i don't i need some sense slapped into me."
heat floods in your cheeks at his words. harvey, ever the kind gentleman, was a whole other person entirely. for a second, you wonder if you could tease more possessiveness out of him. he was already delirious with pleasure. what could a little more hurt?
"i'm glad you think so too, dr. harvey. shane really thinks i'm the best looking person in this whole town," you say with a smirk tilting your lips upward.
that fire reignites in his eyes again. in seconds, his hands come to your wrists and you feel pinned against the bed. his chest is rising and falling with intensity.
"if i hear another man's name on your lips tonight, you're getting it," he threatens.
and, because you can, you push him further. "shane. alex. sam. sebastian. lew-"
in a renewed sense of dominance, harvey clamps his hand over your mouth, effectively cutting you off. "i don't think you'll be able to talk when i'm done with you," he says, voice just slightly above a whisper.
"prove it," you whisper back.
harvey smiles with something sinister lurking beneath the service. he stands from the bed, eyes never leaving yours and tugs off his belt, then his pants. with no flourish, his length comes out, irresistibly hard from the night's activities. he climbs back on top of you, settling his center in front of yours. he's barely touching your core but it's sending you arching upwards.
"i don't think shane could manage making you feel this good, you know?" he teases your entrance. "i mean, if you'd like to try, go ahead, but you'll come back to me crying because he can't make you cum like this." slowly, he slides himself in. you let out an unearthly moan that is met with his own grunts. "you're all mine. no one else's." he fully enters you then, hitting as far back as he could manage.
he drags himself out, then slowly enters back in. it's torturous. horrible. so awfully frustrating.
"please, harv. more!" you beg. he kept up his slow pace, barely budging. "need you more." you sound just as pathetic as you feel.
"can shane make you feel this good?" he asks.
so that's what he wanted from you. "no!" you plead.
"are you all mine, then?"
"yes, all yours!"
"exclusively mine?"
"exclusively yours!"
at those final words, harvey fucks into you again with a quicker, rougher pace. this was what you needed more than air. your hands fly to his arms where your nails dig into the skin there. he would wake up with marks that remind him of the night, but maybe that was your purpose in doing so.
harvey is stretching you out in the most perfect of ways and the closeness of his body to yours sends shivers all over you. his hands are desperately clinging to every part of your exposed skin and his chest rises quickly in attempts to catch his breath. nothing could stop him from his actions right now. all he can focus on is the way you feel so tight around him, the way you're moaning his name, and the way he has to hold in his orgasm until you've came all over him.
which isn't too far away. it's building with every deep, powerful thrust he makes. he's hitting spots inside of you that he hadn't before. it's blissful, filthy, and perfect. in the middle of your ecstacy, you make a note to draw out harvey's jealous side more.
"fuck," he grunts out. it's so strange to hear such filthy language coming from your husband who balked any time you said swear words. "you're so fucking tight for me, huh?"
his dirty words pull out a loud moan from you which seemed to spur harvey on even further. his thrusts lost their rhythm and his breath became rapid. he was close and so were you. with urgent moves, you wrap your legs around his waist which sends his length inside of you as deep as it can go. your eyes meet with a silent agreement.
your moans mingle together, filling the room with lewd noises. your name is repeated over and over again until the moment you both feel that release toppling over the edge, filling your bodies head to toe with pure bliss. his body doesn't still, but instead he returns to the slow pace he began with, pumping his cum deep inside you.
after some breaths and stilled movements, he pulls out with a slick noise and falls to your side. his arms open up in a silent request for you to lay on his chest and you oblige. the bed is destroyed, your bodies are sweaty, and there's certainly something leaking out of you onto the sheets. but sheets can be washed, beds can be made, and showers can be had.
all that matters is that you were exclusively his, and shane could never make you feel like that.
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lintubintu · 2 days
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Kot Kot Review
I like Kot Kot a lot.
Despite the almost harsh difference between the intro and how the song progresses, it´s not too out there.
The music seems chaotic and structured, is melodic, nostalgic and two-faced more out of necessity than provocation, and it´s ongoing. It spirals.
There is a lovely moodiness to it that seems mature and balanced, deliberately using the intro as a bridge again and repurposing the funky "kot kot" into something that softens into the lighter part of the song. The change of pace is noticeable but not alarming and almost hopeful.
Kot Kot is not a big song nor does it exist to troll. It enjoys being silly with the chicken theme and builds a narrative that can be purposely misunderstood by people who don´t like him.
During my first listen I was a little confused but intrigued by the seemingly contradicting parts that adapt well by the second listen. Pop and Rap evolve from clashing into shaking hands.
It feels a bit like a song nobody would put on an album anymore because it is deemed barely good enough to keep up with its fellow, more popular tunes. It stands on its own where others see a filler track.
Overall, it makes me have more hope for the album now; for it to be an album and not just a compilation of Singles.
I wouldn´t be surprised if this song was the opening number, nor would I be shocked to not find an Intro at all – Kot Kot is an introduction in itself.
From what I understand of the lyrics, it also is the first song of his that makes me want to know more about him as a lyricist.
To start the song of with MAYDAY is a deliberate choice because the song is not what it seems.
It´s soft spoken and not a shrill cry for help but knows of something that already affects the narrator enough that reaching out soon is imminent. It´s a literal stress signal.
The teaser made me think the protagonist in this song was simply sick of being treated like someone doomed to continue staging a party for others.
Relying on translations and interpretations of this song, the protagonist seems to realise that their lifestyle will rather leave them with very little time spent having fun with friends – because even the party-goers have gone to bed earlier than them.
Those that tried to keep up with them may have lost their step and had to give in to their own different schedules, or are worse off for keeping them company. So their company diminishes further.
There might be little life beyond the lifestyle, the sobering thought that solitude is too close within reach for comfort – the time left after work cannot always be shared nor of quality due to their schedule.
A double blow. Real life and bonding has to be spent in time confetti. Throughout it all, the silliness persists.
Rather laughable is the Explicit rating of this song. Was it the Perhana!?
The ending is a jumpscare, them finally being silly, breaking the cycle. But at the same time, it´s a rooster greeting the morning – the protagonist worked the night away.
For a moment, you are relieved the song is over. And then you play it again.
I would love for the upcoming album to be a concept album.
This song seems to divide people in a different way than songs before it did.
Some of you seem puzzled, others more neutral than hateful, none of the dislike so far is really loud.
The timing might be a bit unfortunate – song releases at this hour have the same problems as the protagonist in Kot Kot.
And even if you really don´t like this song, I fell that there will be something on the album that you will like.
It´s ok to not like things and it doesn´t have to be justified.
Still, I am interested to hear what you don´t like about this song because I think it makes for a worthwhile conversation and I like interacting with you.
Let´s do that while we have the time.
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stormsplurge · 22 hours
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if they woke you up, somebody better be dying
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warnings: none!
pairing(s): seth jarvis x fem! reader
inspired by the interview he just did for spittin chiclets where he talks about how he usually wont fall asleep until 3am (and the title is from one of my favorite phoebe bridgers songs, halloween)
760 words
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the clock on the bedside table blinks “1:00” as you slowly open your eyes. the only light in the room is coming from the moon shining between the blinds, casting a cool glow on the noticeably empty bed next to where you were lying.
seth wasnt in bed; same as last night, and almost every night before. 
you can hear the faint sounds of a seinfeld episode coming from the living room, letting you know immediately where your boyfriend was. sitting on the couch in front of the tv instead of in bed next to you. so you begrudgingly pulled on the first sweatshirt you could find, trying to beat the cold winter chill that had invaded the apartment, and tiptoed out of your bedroom.
“seth” you grumbled. “its one in the morning”
“i know, i just” he replied, pressing pause on the tv and turning to face you. “i couldnt sleep and i didnt want to bother you.”
“you should also know that if you cant fall asleep i want to help. you arent being a bother, im your girlfriend. this is the shit im supposed to be able to help you with” you said as you sat down at the far end of the couch. pulling one of the spare blankets you had all over the apartment over your lap.
“im sorry” seth returned, scooting closer to you and interlacing your hands with his. “can i get a do-over?”
“i guess” you giggled, amused by the sight of seth doing his sad puppy eyes in front of you.
“i cant sleep, can you help me?”
“of course i can, give me five minutes.” you said as you rose from the couch, gliding over to the kitchen and pulling out two coffee mugs. running your fingers over the design adorning the box holding the tea bags, you turned your attention back towards seth. “the sleepytime bear reminds me of petya.”
“the what?”
“you know, the bear on the boxes for all those non-caffinated teas. with the red hat and the nightgown.”
seth slipped into the kitchen behind you, pulling out his phone and snapping a quick picture of the bear before sending it off to the group chat and spinning you around so your back was pushing against the counter.
“thank you” he said before pressing a long kiss to the top of your head.
“you dont need to thank me.” you replied, snaking your hands under his shirt and hugging his waist.
“i know, i just wanted too.”
“youre so sappy.” you mumbled into his shirt, letting the sweet, woody, smell engulf you.
“yeah but you love it.” he mumbled back before pulling the kettle off the stove and pouring its contents into the mugs you set out. 
you released each other from the hug and grabbed your respective mugs before hobbling back into your bedroom. you pulled up the episode of seinfeld seth had paused before sliding in bed. 
making tea might have been a waste of time, seeing as seth was more interested in holding you than holding the mug. as soon as you got under the covers he’d wrapped his arms around you.
“youre wearing my hoodie.” he whispered as he traced circles along your thighs, letting the callouses on his palms graze the goosebumps on your skin.
“am i?” you murmured. “i just picked it up off the floor, it was the first one i found”
“my old blue bombers one.” he replied. “it looks good on you”
“you say that about everything i wear.”
“i wouldnt say it if it wasnt true.” he says before turning your chin towards him and pulling you into a kiss. 
the stubble growing in as a result of his budding playoff beard scratched at your face as you pulled him in deeper, and as you turned your attention back towards the sitcom on the tv you felt your eyes grow heavier. 
you fell asleep with the moonlight glazing over you and seth, and seinfeld playing on the tv. on a cool carolina night, with no care in the world. 
seth wasn’t far behind, wrapping his body around you before finally succumbing to his fatigue.
maybe it was having his girlfriend care for him that slowed his brain down enough to let him finally catch a semi-decent night of rest, maybe it was the reminder of unconditional love that put him at ease. regardless of the cause, you woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows, and a clingy, but well rested, boyfriend attached to your hip. 
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bethecliche · 23 hours
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my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!reader
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summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.
you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.
The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.
What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.
Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.
All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.
He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.
As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.
“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.
His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.
“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.
His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.
“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”
Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.
“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”
They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.
The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.
He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.
Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.
He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.
In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.
“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.
The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.
He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.
After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.
“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.
Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”
“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”
Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.
The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.
They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.
That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.
They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.
Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.
Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.
And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.
Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.
“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”
The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.
The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.
One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.
“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”
When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”
They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.
Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).
It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.
“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”
Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”
“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”
She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.
“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”
Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”
This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.
Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.
The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”
For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.
“It feels like my home.” She whined.
“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.
In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.
“Are you…”
“I want you to move in with me.”
The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.
In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).
The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.
“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”
“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”
“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.
There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.
Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.
It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.
“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.
Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.
He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.
“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.
"What?" He retorted.
“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”
Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”
Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.
“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”
Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.
The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.
There was no other answer than yes.
The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”
With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).
Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.
“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.
“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.
He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.
“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”
Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.
“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."
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drbased · 1 day
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Does it ever make you ever feel depressed that men have more variation in IQ? That means even though there will always be more male idiots, there will also be more male geniuses. So women can excel in any field, but a man will almost always be the "best" in it. It just makes me feel inferior every time I think about it, way more than strength difference does. Not only that, but they also have higher variation in all types of brain structure. That would mean men are naturally more diverse, personality-wise.
Sometimes I get into these negative thought processes about stupid shit and it totally consumes me. This is my latest one... Please help
Hmm.
Well firstly, IQ is a completely fake concept designed specifically for eugenicist purposes. You can train for an IQ test, your score can change depending on the day, and your score doesn’t mean anything apart from how good you are at IQ tests. It’s not a measure of intelligence, and ‘intelligence’ isn’t real anyway - as in, there is no such quality of uniform intelligence. I think it stands to reason that the highest IQ scores will be from men, because the tests are constructed around a fundamentally male world-view and value system as well as a white one. And that is what depresses me more - that ‘intelligence’ is viewed as some innate quality that only oppressors can possess so they can prove that they deserve their place in a meritocracy. It’s like that controversy about men winning more at Jeopardy than women - the world is structured around male interests and values, so men achieve in mainstream contests and use that to retroactively justify the legitimacy of those values and interests in the culture.
I’m less interested in the concept of a man beating a woman at certain activities because of him being smarter than her, than I am about him beating her because he's socialised from a young age into enjoying and valuing those activities - but also often regardless of his actual performance, he's also by default assumed to be better and more competent than her purely because he's a man. Take for example that study where when they did blind auditions for orchestras, men still got in more than women, but when they put carpeting down so women's heels couldn't be heard, there was finally a more equal ratio of women getting in. Or those studies where identical CVs given out and names that are typical of women, black people etc. get seen as less competent than those with male and white names.
We don't live in a world where we can objectively measure men's 'natural' abilities at anything psychological. But we do live in a world where we know that women's skills are massively undervalued - women have all sorts of intelligences that make the world run round; we're excellent negotiators, we're less violent, we're great at remembering, we have greater compassion, we make good leaders, we are more responsible, we have greater tact, we are safer in the workplace, we're more conscious of social issues and the environment, etc. etc. And none of what we have is seen as 'intelligence'; in fact, quite the opposite - many of our intelligences are dismissed outright as sentimentality and pearl-clutching.
Once again, though, I don't believe these traits are uniform across all women, or that they're 'natural' to us, just as men's traits aren't 'natural' to them. In the nature-nurture debate, there are too many factors in nurture that can't be realistically measured - and I have a suspicion that for many, feminists included, simply saying that men and women naturally possess certain traits is an easier narrative to swallow, because for many women the fear exists that if men can be socialised to be better, then dismissing them as evil would be morally wrong. But I don't think people need to be intrinsically, ontologically evil for us to dismiss them as oppressors - I simply judge by behaviour, which is more measurable.
Going back to intelligence, I think it's also worth saying here that women are socialised into not recognised or appreciating our skills, and to partake in behaviours that psychologically hobble us. Take for example in that orchestra study - under a feminist lens, wearing heels is a form of hobbling that's both literal and psychological. The woman is performing a feminine ritual, wearing a physically debilitating item that submissively marks her as a woman. Not to say that she would be respected more if she was gnc, but I find it interesting how women accidentally lost their spot on the orchestra in the study because their performative clothing made them noisier and easier to recognise as women. And on top of that, we have stereotype threat - there was a study done where men and women were performing some sort of test, and in one half they were in normal clothes, and the second they were in swimwear. In the second one, women performed more poorly than they did in the first, and men saw no change. Once again, we have two inexorably interlinked factors at play, here - women's swimwear is not built for utility but rather to be sexy, and women's bodies are considered inherently sexual; that's not to say that if women were wearing men's swimwear they'd do better at the test, but rather women are socialised to be self-conscious of themselves but also expected to show more skin - we're expected to dumb ourselves down in the name of being sexy.
The upside in all of this is that the moment you recognise that these things aren't set in stone, and rather that these are all skills you can develop if you gain confidence in yourself, you develop a robust sense of self that you can be comfortable and happy with regardless of external measure of male-approved success. I, for example, found confidence in myself and my writing, and now I'm finding success and getting praise online by women on tumblr. It seems you're best finding yourself environments surrounded by other women, especially feminist-minded women who are consciously choosing to fight against established biases by valuing the skills of women that are undervalued by society. Devaluing male interests and achievements in your own head is something you can also do, and I once again recommend feminist spaces as an excellent opportunity to de-program (obligatory plug for my side blog @learningwomanhood where I do exactly that).
For me, the biggest wisdom to be gained from feminism is the psychological distancing yourself from male thought - the more things you reject that you once unthinkingly believed to be normal, the more you feel that you can truly be human, vibrant, unconstrained; and the more silly the whole enterprise of patriarchy looks. It's not nice that rejecting patriarchy means rejecting mainstream society, but the older you get the more you realise that you simply can't dwell on these things and instead have to do what benefits you within it; nobody is owed a perfect existence, and once you realise that you have to choose a life for yourself and choose to be happy with that, your life will be much more comfortable. In the end, life is all about the gestures of love you make to yourself and others. When you realise that it's your job to be your own best friend, you can carry that energy with you your whole life; you will be inpenetrable because all that matters to you, no matter what situation you're going through or what hell you're in, is that you made decisions that showed love to yourself. That could be considered a form of intelligence - perhaps wisdom itself is a form of intelligence that is devalued specifically because it's female-coded. But wisdom sounds like nothing until you internalise it - all the language in the world can't seem to really get to its essence until something inside you clicks and you understand it.
One thing I would like to say is that those negative thought processes you have are not stupid: they are a valuable part of your processing of the world and are worth attention. We have this cultural idea that with regards to mental health, the parts of us that are 'real' and 'valid' and 'truly us' are all the good parts, and the negative thought processes and patterns of behaviour are like cancerous tumours that need to be artifically removed. One of the best things I ever did for myself is to take myself seriously - because that's my prerogative, as myself and my own best friend. The only thing 'bad' thing about those thought processes is that they cause you distress; that's it. So, then, it's up to you to decide how much you want to indulge in them. I find the best way to really tackle unpleasant behavioural patterns is to simply do them shamelessly, because clearly a part of you wants to do them anyway; one of the first ways I got out of my depressive spirals was to decide that I was going to do all the depressive actions (stay in bed, eat junk food etc.) but simply embrace that those are things I want to do and not feel guilty or sad about it. That way, the depression hasn't consumed me and instead I have made a choice - I have reformed my relationship with myself as an active agent and a made a choice to show love for myself through the gesture of taking my desires seriously, not dismissing them as 'mentally ill'. I could go on but the point is that all of your head is necessarily you - as in, it doesn't come from anywhere else but you, and therefore all of it should be respected and valued. Mainstream society won't tell you that - there's always supposed to be a limit, there's always something that's 'unhealthy' in some sort of metaphysical sense, there's always a part of you that's supposed to be beholden to some external standard, that keeps you feeling insecure and needing validation. But there is no true objective measure of a healthy mind; the only thing that matters is if you're comfortable with yourself, and you can always make gestures of love to yourself regardless of your situation.
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lovezbrownies · 2 days
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(MYandere! Superhero x GN!Reader)
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Masterlist
(Decided to make an oc strictly non-sexual, so he is asexual, I noticed I've been making a lot of sexual fics lately and wanted to change it up :) have fun! Also made my posts prettier )
Synopsis: You don't check the news often enough, so when civilians were warned against walking near or through a certain area you were none the wiser... Giving your stalker a chance to save you from doom.
Luminary x Reader.
Warnings: Mentioned stalking, kidnapping, not edited at all :(.
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You had a routine. Get up bright and early for your 7 AM office job, get to work, come home at 2 PM, relax for 2 or so hours, then go out for a short walk at the park near your apartment. You never really deviate from your usual walking pattern, yet today you felt adventurous– Ironic, of all days to be adventurous and wander off to a new path that same exact path ends up being infested with blood-lusted slime creatures from the dark abyss of this world.
Obviously you thought something was off but you just could not put your finger on it! Sure it was creepy how as you kept walking the area got quieter, lonelier, darker, but you just thought that there was some superhero nearby and everyone wanted a picture with them, that has happened before. Or maybe today just wasn’t your day, your natural ‘hey this feels dangerous let’s turn back’ system may be experiencing some difficulties… And now you find yourself running faster than you have ever run in your life. Leaping away from the hungry monsters attempting to catch you and devour you.
These slimy demons had popped up a few decades ago, a few years after the sudden appearance of super humans. No one knows where either came from, how they sprung, or the exact science behind their sudden appearance. But now they’re here, not a lot of people get blessed with super powers, and those who do immediately get enlisted, either by their own will or their parents force them to when they’re young. Some people don’t enlist even with superpowers, some people have such rare superpowers that they’re forced into the work field, those people mostly being healers and supernaturally intelligent people.
You were none of those, a normal average human, with a normal average job, and a normal average routine. And here you were, endangering your life, for your stupid physical health. Not like you’d have any of your physical health after this, you’re going to be in a monster’s stomach in about 5 minutes. You already were slowing down, the constant zig zagging decreasing your stamina fast. Looking back at the monsters chasing you.
What you didn’t expect was to stumble over an exposed cable, falling flat on your face, your ears start ringing, blocking out the noises of your own panting and whimpering as well as the monster's evil noises. You immediately huddled into the fetal position, as if it would minimize any of the tormenting pain you’ll be feeling soon but… nothing, no ripping of the skin, no crushing of the bones, no hearts being slowly devoured by evil monsters. None of it. 
Yet you kept your eyes clenched shut, maybe the monsters are confused with your stupidity that they just stood there processing before they finally have at it. Slowly the ringing in your ears subsided, and you heard nothing, no growling monsters or anything, nothing other than your own panting, as well as… footsteps? The sound of a sly chuckle startles you, causing you to crack open your eyes and you were greeted by the shining bright smile of the world famous superhero, Luminary.
Luminary– A man of unnaturally strong power, he was invincible, untouchable. You liked him enough for saving the city many times before but didn’t really idolize him, superhero or not he still was a human with human emotions, whatever people say about him online can still affect him. So you kept to yourself when it came to superhero affairs. But from the short snippets you’d see online you had a lot in common with him, shows, interests, hobbies. You always thought that it was all a carefully crafted lie to make him seem more relatable to the average plebeians, or whatever who knows.
You were star struck, ironically enough you wanted to act normal around him but you couldn’t even form words. Luminary’s shining smile still pointed towards you. He held out his hand, intending for you to grasp at it and use it to steady yourself up. “Hello there! I take it you haven’t seen the news this morning, huh? Haha! No worries, your trusty hero is always there to save you.” You just sat there gaping up at him, the personal embodiment of a star. 
Maybe it was the exhaustion, the shock, or the superhero in front of you, but you fainted, completely collapsed, thankfully you didn’t hit your head since you were already lying down.
Luminary had watched you run for your life from the creatures earlier. But he couldn’t care less of them, his eyes were on you, the person he’s had a crush on since the 11th grade, you never knew of his existence but he didn’t care, he’ll eventually weasel his way into your life but right now he’s content on stalking you. Or so he thought, until you endangered your life and almost got yourself killed when you tripped.
Seeing the once in a lifetime opportunity to weasel his way into your life. Luminary picked you right off the dirty ground, his heartbeat accelerating, every little part of you he touches feels like electricity. Years of one sided obsession and just now is he making contact with you, practically committing himself to abstinence just for you. Luminary felt like a schoolgirl as he giggled at the sight of you resting your head on his shoulder.   Luminary’s flight home was delightful, you smelt amazing, and you even snuggled into him in your sleep! He could just explode! Once he entered his humble abode, Luminary placed you on his bed, his eyes practically turning heart shaped at the thought of late night cuddles with you…
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kitsunefyuu · 2 days
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Did you notice how some AFO fans who used to like DFO Theory started to hate it and suddenly attack the same fans? Maybe this is due to generalizing DFO as OOC? I once saw someone saying that "to respect someone else's opinion, just remember that you have also changed your opinion several times" but these people only seem to attack what they once liked for no apparent reason, other than "nooooo my beautiful AFO is not like this 😭😭"
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Yes, it is a trend that I did notice when I first came into the fandom that a lot of people would say they are former DFO. Then say how they realize how 'stupid' the theory was and unrealistic. As if suddenly now they are the pinnacle of rational and totally know everything about a fictional character.
I never claim my interpretation is the canon, because I know I could end up wrong. That just how it is and I'm always willing to adjust my headcanons with the source material. But honestly I think the AFO fans that liked DFO and now hate it only changed because other people started being hostile to the theory.
Like popular writers, artist, and all kinds of people begun to sneer at that interpretation beside those in the little community. Seeing it as just trying to 'soften' AFO or as something gross to do to the MC. Or worse some people like DFO but hate AFO so when the former DFO see that they change their mind to double down on disliking DFO as they LIKE AFO. As they see it as like you said 'softening' him to make him palatable. The theory itself, however, is only parentage.
Like it still be valid to assume AFO had Izuku with Inko from a One Night stand, and Hisashi Midoriya is just the guy that stepped up for single mom Inko. We have evidence of there possibly being more aware but if don't like it then that an option too.
DFO theory is simply the theory that Izuku Midoriya is RELATED to All for One. That is the bare bones minimum, I don't care if you are OH HE LOVES HIM or HE AN EXPERIMENT or whatever you want to believe. None of that really registers much to me nor should matter, like DFO can be used in many manner of ways.
The ones that seem to hate is most... Well they tend to either want Virgin All for One (for sexual reasons) or want him to be purely asshole(for sexual or just because love assholes that can go either way) or maybe fear of being the outsider. There also many who claim that every time he does a more evil act that it PROOF he never father a child.
Like tell me you never had a mentally unstable parent that does outrageous things. Anyone can have a kid, it sure doesn't take much for a guy to one and done for various reasons. We also literally been confirmed now he can change his face, DNA, and has actually done so. Also we've seen how he is with Yoichi, literal proof of his ability to love it just dark and twisted.
It why DFO is so interesting since if is the child of AFO it an avenue to explore his character. How WOULD AFO raise a child now that we knows what happened with Yoichi? Is he aware of Izuku? Does he care? We've seen him vault family and say how precious family is.
But then, none of that matters to the former DFO fans who now are DFO hates. They just don't want to be the weirdo outsiders believing in something that isn't even 'canon' and as I've said many times. I'm not exactly going to stop writing or enjoying it even if it NOT canon.
No one can dictate what I like and enjoy. And those people projecting hatred once they loved it?
I hope they know it ok to just like different things and change your mind. They should be happy with what they like instead of just wanting to be 'right'.
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cripplecharacters · 2 days
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Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.
Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.
Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.
I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.
One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)
While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.
Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).
Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)
I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.
I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)
I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?
Hello,
before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.
You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange. If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.
Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?
Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.
Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.
So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.
If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.
To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.
If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.
Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.
If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...
Actual Answers! Hooray
what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?
Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.
Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.
I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.
The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.
Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.
I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.
This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.
In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.
The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.
If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!
mod Sasza
[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]
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mdhwrites · 2 days
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Have you seen the leaked TOH pilot and pitch bible yet? IMO it’s crazy how most of it is better than the final product.
I have! And... I don't know if I entirely agree with that.
What I found most fascinating about it is that a lot of the contradictions and issues of scope with TOH that doomed it are still in the pitch bible itself. Just some quick examples of what I'm talking about: When talking about themes, they talk about Fantasy versus Reality but it's as shallow as it is in the show. After all, one of the episode concepts pitched within it features a plot that has Luz literally going "This is just like in my fanfiction!" and being better able to handle it because of that.
It builds up the emperor of the land and Belos (known as Oberon) when talking about them but NONE of the plotlines include Oberon in the episode pitches or even mention the coven system for that matter. They are still barely a thing to the show with the only episode concept about that part of the show being the one about William.
An utter lack of real stakes like how King has to face the deep crises of a decision of either being a lackey to the people he used to run with while also losing any chance to ever reclaim his lost power... Or he can save Eda and Luz and lose the chance to work with these people again. That's not really a compelling decision, is it?
The pitch also claims that the show will mostly be about Luz and Eda's relationship and how Luz's determination will push Eda to be a better person... And most of the episodes pitched are still not actually about the two spending time together. Just Eda making Luz upset so she goes off to do her own thing, just like the same problem as in the actual series.
You actually have MORE characters in this version which sucks harder for trying to narrow things down, especially since more of them are disconnected from each other than before. At least Boscha, unlike Pascha, has a connection to literally anyone in the main cast.
You also have stupidity with your magic still. "Look! I need to work hard to make small objects float!" And apparently that's enough to make all of Hexside lose their fucking minds. WHY!? In 90% of settings, that is as basic as the light spell Luz learns. It's why it's one of the first spells Harry learns.
Oh and let's not forget "Almost all known portals to the human realm have been severed" but apparently Amity has access to one of those known portals freely enough to attend two schools. It's a small thing but it would cause problems in theory.
BUT.
I will give credit to this: Luz is MUCH more compelling in this version. I think if there is something that is just unequivocally true, it's that. She is way less inoffensively nerdy, instead her interests being more upfront and troublesome, helping explain why that would be why she is rejected and not because, you know, she puts people in danger. Also her rise to power is just better.
Arguably, Luz in canon is a chosen one essentially from episode FOUR onwards. Now, this is up for debate but being given a power almost out of nowhere, with no training, that no one else has, is usually a sign of a chosen in a narrative. Episode 4 is when she gets the light glyph. She doesn't work for it, it's not a big character growth moment, etc. like that. She mostly just oops into it. Making it that Luz ACTUALLY has to work for her magic and the show actually has to explore how the magic works, making it so she has something to learn is just strictly better, especially for the concept of her learning to be a witch. Eda would actually be able to teach her something instead of shrugging and going "Welp, good luck!"
I will say that the bible does also lean more into an adventurous aspect though. This version of episodes would easily be more fantastical and include more magic in them which would help the Isles not feel so much like our realm. I will say the fact that there's also active anti-human prejudice also would be good because then Luz being human would, you know... Matter. Not that the Isles is really given a personality even here besides the oppression they're theoretically under. It's still a very generic fantasy setting.
A lot of the rest though? It's really not that unique or different from the show itself. Lilith is almost exactly the same, Tibbles is just Gus but a demon, there are slightly more restrictions on things like being human or magic but, you know, the show didn't care about its one law, why would it care about three? Even Amity, who does look better on here, is only because it's on paper. This is literally just Amity's pitch in S1 after all. All the reasons people loved Amity are here.
Conceptually it is fine but I am surprised about how not only this got picked up but also how it was greenlit so heavily as to get a pilot animatic, with voice acting, based on these concepts. There's just some very clear cleaning up that needs to be done, basic questions on its own setting and own logic that isn't even playing into the comedy/fantasy angles that could let you let it pass. It's not all of them or even the majority but a skeptical prereader could even raise these basic sorts of inconsistencies like the ones I brought up above. After all, this is half a season's worth of episodes pitched and a fifth of them are still going to Amity and more of them have Luz directly interacting with King than they do Eda.
There's a final thing I have to bring up due to it being why I think the show changed so drastically from this pitch bible to its final form: This is way more complicated. TOH already has extremely decompressed storytelling and too many elements working in tandem. Meanwhile, every character is MORE complicated in this one and less connected to each other, necessitating that each, except maybe Eda, will take more time to get through their stuff. The writing team either had to sharpen how much they could do in an episode or simplify and congregate elements. We see this a LOOOOT in S2A, especially Escaping Expulsion, where it seems the writers went "Even with three whole seasons planned, we don't have enough time to do everything we want to, the way we like to, so we need to start cutting and simplifying even more than before."
One example of this that's really easy: In the pitch bible, Willow is a random witch who lives near Eda. Well that means she'll likely either take time out of a couple episodes as she's introduced or take up an entire episode just for herself. Tibbles is also just on their own, like in the show. Introducing both of these characters is not really an option. However, put them both into Hexside and suddenly you can introduce three characters at the same time organically, like we saw with I Was a Teenage Abomination.
Luz just being gifted magic is another element to this. Her having to actually experiment for every spell and having to have a real system to her spells limits what she can do but also means spending a LOT more time on her magic. You can't just have a flower open up and give her the glyph of the day as easily, nor have her be able to throw her spells around as she wants. Making it so she just needs reams of paper and/or a marker makes it a lot easier and simpler to have her start casting magic.
This version of TOH would have SHATTERED under its own scope while the current version mostly bends and cracks from it. However, if people do use this to go "FUCK DISNEY EVEN HARDER!" I won't be surprised. Grand scope ALWAYS looks better on paper than it does in action. It sounds epic and multi-faceted and complex. The problem is that it still has to fit its format and it is MUCH harder to execute on than a more simple concept.
There's a reason the only perfect project is the one you never do because you can promise the world without ever having to deliver. So, while it's nice to see an earlier version, I am by no means going to say this would have been a better version of TOH.
======+++++======
Sorry for anyone hoping for a link to the pitch bible btw. I just don't have one as I got given it as a document.
I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!
I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.
A Twitter you can follow too
And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.
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writeroutoftime · 13 hours
Text
precious secrets (part 2)
part one
pairing: eris vanserra x reader
summary: months later you still find yourself in the night court while your mate is stuck in autumn. but one day, feyre comes by with interesting news.
warnings: none, I promise it's fluff!
words: 1k
a/n: loved writing this so much, and thank you so much for all the support on the first part! also, if you want to request any other scenarios, please send them in!! enjoy!
oOoOo
The cool, night air washed over you as you stood out on the balcony, looking down below at Velaris. Even you had to admit the city was more beautiful in the evening with the stars shining down on its citizens. It had been weeks since your first introduction to the secret city of the Night Court, and, in turn, weeks since you had last seen your mate.
The time away from Eris was torture, made worse by the fact the two of you were only able to keep up minimal communication. Short letters slipped between members of the Night Court when they were able to visit. Feelings of love and support down the bond, but it was never enough. It didn't erase the uneasiness you felt at the thought of Eris alone in his father's grasp.
You heard the laughter and cheer of the Inner Circle inside and clutched your glass of fae wine tighter. While they had all been incredibly welcoming of Eris' secret mate, watching so many pairs of mates love each other happily and openly made you long for your own. Very quickly, you became jealous of Feyre and Rhysand, suddenly wishing you possessed their daemati powers.
'I think of you every day and every night, my love. I know we will be together again soon. Please, stay safe."
With thoughts of Eris' letters in your mind, you sighed and turned from the view and pushed off the balcony. You offered a tight smile to the Inner Circle. "Goodnight."
"Wait, y/n, are you sure you don't want to stay?" Feyre asked, reaching out to gently grab your hand.
"I'll see you in the morning." you reiterated, slipping away from the looks of pity you know that followed you.
As you got yourself ready for bed in your temporary room, your mind raced to Eris. Looking out the window, you wondered if Eris was thinking of you at the same moment. A warm, loving feeling blossomed in your chest, and your hand brushed over your heart.
"Stay safe, love." you whispered before slipping under the covers.
oOoOo
The couch in the library had become a favored spot of yours as you worked your way through the Night Court's collection. You currently were reading one of Nesta's recommendations. She had only smirked when she handed you the copy, and it didn't long to figure out why. Just before you could get to the good part, there was a soft, yet urgent tap against your mind.
Allowing your shields to fall just a hint, you heard Feyre's warm voice fill your mind. "Beron is dead. We just received official word from the Autumn Court not even an hour ago."
Your heart froze in your chest. Beron was dead. Well and truly dead after centuries of keeping his people underneath his tight reign. For the first time in what felt like forever, a weight fell from your shoulders. You could breathe again.
Once your mind was able to process the reality of your situation, you thought of your mate and the possibility of seeing him again. As if you were psychic, you felt a tug at the bonder sharper than it had been in weeks. The book slipped to the floor with a harsh thud without a second thought.
In an instant, you ran down the hallways of River House and found yourself outside the living room. The doors were closed, but for the first time in months, the bond that connected you to Eris sung a beautiful melody. You knew, without a doubt, that your mate stood on the other side of the door.
There was a moment of hesitation as you reached for the handle. It had been months since you and Eris had truly seen each other. How had he changed? How had you changed? But you quickly decided that none of those things mattered. With passion, you pushed open the door and felt yourself freeze.
In the middle of the room stood Eris. His auburn hair was disheveled and the bags under his eyes were as prominent of ever, but underneath it all, you could only see was the male you loved. Hesitantly, you took a step forward, arm outstretched, hovering just inches away from your mate.
"Eris?" you breathed out, afraid it was an illusion which would shatter at any moment. "Are you really here?"
Your mate offered a warm smile and closed the gap between you. "It's me, my love. I promise you this is real." he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulled you flush against his chest.
The scent of cinnamon and fresh autumn air engulfed your senses, providing you with a sense of relief you hadn't felt in ages. Burying your face against his chest, you let your hands roam the expanse of Eris' back holding onto any piece of him possible.
Eventually, you pulled back and glanced up into your mate's amber eyes. "Is it true? He-he's gone?
"He's gone." Eris confirmed, moving to cup your face with his hand, delicately swiping his thumb along your cheekbone. He leaned down to brush his lips against yours after years of yearning for this moment. Your first kiss free from the fear of constantly looking over your shoulders and waiting for the shoe to drop.
Eris broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against yours. "He can no longer control us or our lives, my High Lady."
Your eyes grew wide with shock. "A-are you sure, Eris?"
"There is no one I would rather have my side. I have dreamed of this moment for years, and now, all of Prythian can come to know my smart, strong, beautiful mate that I love with all my heart." Eris stared at you adoringly, bringing your hand up to brush a kiss against your knuckles. "Let's go home, High Lady."
"I thought you'd never say those words, High Lord."
oOoOo
tagging (based on comments from the first part): @fxckmiup, @tele86, @m00n5t0n3, @mybestfriendmademe, @glitterypirateduck
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plantboiart · 17 hours
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Assigning. Greek gods to jrwi pcs. Because special interests go brr
(Clarification for nobody: gods that i think just like. Fit them. Their vibes. Some of these are more obvious than others in their reasonings. Some barely have any reasonings. I’m just in a fun mood.)
Gillion: poseidon would be the easy choice. But. No. Selene. The goddess of the moon. Because moon mom :)
Jay: there’s a lot of good contenders i think. But to me its definitely either artemis or apollo. Both are archers, artemis obviously has the whole huntress thing which fits with her being a ranger, while apollo has the sun thing (lets not get into that convo rn) and prophesies which obviously works with every riptide pc, honestly not sure which one i would go with
Chip: hermes!! God of travelers and thieves and all that fun stuff so perfect for our pirate boy. Also a trickster, and his job as a psycophomp works with the like. Chips connection to the hole in the sea and all that fun mystery stuff
William: the wispy boy himself… now you might be tempted to say hades or thanatos because. You know. Death. But no. Dionysus. Especially in season two. I mean hes the god of madness! The greyscale arc!! Also he’s got his whole weird rebirth thing going on with his mom dying and zeus having to carry the pregnancy to term and all that stuff (id recommend watching overly sarcastic production’s video on dionysus its very interesting)
Dakota: now running into the problem of almost none of the greek gods and goddesses being explicitly heroic. However i have found a fitting answer: Prometheus. Stealing fire for humanity and just the overall care for people? Pretty fitting i think
Vyncent: Athena is a pretty good fit i would say! Clearly capable in battle, he is actually pretty smart once you get past the whole ‘from another world and therefore has no idea how things work’ thing, and just. Idk. Vibes!
Thanatos: well. Uh. Thanatos..? But also i feel like either Zeus or Kronos could fit since they both did the whole overthrowing gods thing! Idk really
Peter: PSYCHE. So immediately psyche. A human who became a goddess, was brought back from the dead by her lover, the goddess of the human soul?? She’s perfect for peter
Rumi: working off of peter! Eros! God of love brought psyche back from the dead just wow now i kinda wanna write a fic thats just the myth of psyche and eros but its peter and rumi instead
Rolan: kinda feel like hades is a good fit. Generally just a chill guy who also just so happens to be the god of the underworld and so people just kinda. Assume hes a bad guy. Rolan is just a chill lawyer who also just so happens to be a bug monster
Kian: now sure i could go apollo because music and blah blah blah or i could go persephone to satiate my shipper brain but. Aphrodite. Goddess of beauty, love, and sexuality? Being a rockstar is just the front he puts on, but beyond that his entire thing is just love. And since eros already went to Rumi Kian gets his mom (sometimes) instead ((also im biased because kian is my fave and i worship aphrodite lol))
Rand: Rand could definitely also have Dionysus but Will already got that so instead! Demeter. Both because Rand obviously has the whole plant thing (yes its a weed plant but its still a plant) and also losing those he loves and then holing up inside and refusing to do anything until he gets them back… rand absolutely would let the entire world starve because he was upset if he had the power to do so
Now for the suckening please keep in mind that im not actually caught up on the series, im still in the like first hour of episode 11 because i am bad at listening to things. But.
Emizel: Ares! Good fighter? Check. Very aggressive? Check. Uh. Honestly idk too much about Ares. But well i still think it fits
Shilo: Persephone. Sweet pretty spring goddess? Yes. Also the queen of the underworld and definitely terrifying if you anger her? Also yes. Fits shilo’s whole ‘oh im just a small innocent boy whos never done anything wrong anyways let me shh this person so they cant scream while theyre being diseccted’
Arthur: …i somehow genuinely cant think of anything. Uh. If anyone has suggestions please tell me? My brain just stopped working
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Text
Tumblr media
Paring: Toru Oikawa x female reader
Requested: no
Genre: smut, female receiving
Warning(s): cunnilingus, figuring, degradation
Summary: Toru eating out his freeuse slut aka you
Word count: 743
Other works
Beta reader: none
disclaimer: this is my first time writing smut, so dont expect it to be stellar (do lemme know if it was good or not)
a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus, if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.
[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]
-----------------------smut under the cut--------------------------
Oikawa was your pretty cute roommate. You both had met during your college days and as dorm partners and had bonded over time. Now, three years after finishing, you both are still going strong as roomies.
He has settled into his big-boy job of playing volleyball full-time, and you have the most boring nine-to-five ever. Although the big-time celebrity he is, plus the wealth that is flowing into his bank, says he is a richie rich dude, but the boy still refuses to move out, and who are you to say otherwise?
Now, the refusal to move has some ulterior motives, but it's not like you were not aware of that. The man is obsessed with you, more like your pussy, so much so that he refuses to let you have a moment of peace in the house when you both are alone.
The fact that neither of you are in a relationship helps a lot in contributing to it, not like a simple boyfriend would stop the man from bending you over in the most obnoxious place and ramming his cock into you, but surely it would create a bit of hindrance, and no one likes those.
To put it in the most simplest from, you are his personal free-use slut; that’s what you are. You could deny it, but you know it as well as he does, that you'd bend in the middle of a crowded street if he wanted you to.
Not like he actually wanted that to happen, but you get the point. So, as a general rule in the house, it is forbidden for you to wear panties or a bra, not like you liked to do so anyways. He liked having access to your pussy at all times of the day so that he could always take you anywhere and everywhere.
 Just like this time, when he came back from the gym all sweaty and thirsty, for your pussy.
Walking into the house, he looks around for you only to find you on the balcony tending to those basil plants you have started growing a few months ago. Leaving his gym bag on the couch, he strides over to you and without a single word, he pushes you towards the railing of the balcony and, bending down, he settles himself between your legs.
“Been thinking about you all day,” he says from between your legs and without letting you answer, he pulls down your shorts to get the view of your glistening pussy, with its puffy lips.
“Did you play with yourself while I was away?” he asks, looking at you, only for you to let out a flustered whine.
“I just edged myself, Toru, I couldn’t cum,” you say, thoroughly flustered.
“Dumb whore can’t even make herself cum without my cock, that’s what you needed, wasn’t it?” he laughs as you vigorously nod.
Without wasting another moment, he dives into your pussy, licking a long stripe of it and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each and every lick it becomes even harder for you to keep your voice lower, eventually your screams pierce through the quite evening, making sure to let all the pedestrians know who is eating you out so well.
Latching his face further into your heat, he adds two fingers inside you and immediately starts curling them. Your essence dripping onto his tongue is like heaven, sweeter than any candy he could ever have.
While letting out lewd breathy moans, you grip his hair hard as he keeps abusing your cunt.
“To-toru, ahh-”
“Yes, scream my name, slut, let the world know who makes you go all dumb over his tongue,” he groans.
“Toru, I’m gonna-”
Before you could complete your sentence, the waves of pleasure hit you harder than anything else. With a loud scream of his name, you come all over his face and like a starved man, he drinks you up till the last drop of your cum is gone and you are shaking with overstimulation.
Emerging from between your thighs, he gives your pussy a quick slap, saying, “I'm gonna go take a shower, I expect you to be naked on your knees beside my bed, slut.”
With that, he is out, leaving you to shakily walk into the house towards his bedroom, because what Toru wants he gets, and you are no one to deny him the pleasure he so politely asked you for.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
a/n: again if you have read till the end do tell me how you liked it, and thanks for reading.
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ceasarslegion · 3 days
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The DNI that made you do math to use it?? 👀👀👀
Youre the first one who asked, so you get the answer.
This person was one of the other two weirdos from the Half Life RP discord server i teased at in this post earlier this week:
Once again, i want to disclaimer that this is not a callout post, I will not be giving any details that could be used to identify this person, and I will not be posting screenshots this time because they are still active on tumblr afaik. I dont want this to be used to bully anybody, this is just meant to be my personal experience with my specific side of this story. You can DM me directly or throw in a private answer request in an ask if you want screenshots, but only people i already know and trust not to cyberbully them will get a direct link to the DNI. The person in the story I linked is no longer active anywhere online, which is why I provided screenshots in that story.
And before i lay out the DNI details, I just want to say... there is a FINE LINE between requesting accommodations for a mental illness and infantilizing yourself. I can handle the former just fine, I will do all I can to help, but if you're a grown-ass adult babying yourself and then going "waa im autistic i cant do anything" i have ZERO tolerance for that. Buddy, I'm autistic, and I'm telling you to grow the fuck up.
Yeah, this person was one of those. They were over 18, and had public breakdowns about how everything was just soooo hard for them and everybody else was being problematic and ableist for *checks notes* asking them to wait in a line that was a little long for a new phone plan. Real example, they were screaming and crying in the vent channel because the line at a verizon store was a little long, and implying their father was ableist for asking them to wait for 20 minutes. Buddy, there are some things you JUST need to deal with in the real world regardless of whatever mental soup you have going on. If your autism is that bad, the solution is looking into things like noise canceling headphones, sunglasses, etc. But the world will not stop having lines that you just need to wait in sometimes because you dont like them.
I know that sounds harsh, but they werent exactly the type of person im willing to give the benefit of the doubt to. The majority of their problems were entirely their own fault, and they were clearly enabling and feeding the harder parts of their autism rather than doing anything in the way of learning to cope with it. I am terrified of spiders, like full on panic-inducing terrified of them, but I throw hands at them instead of running or freezing up. One time, I posted a photo of this gigantic-ass spider that was in my dorm room after I screamed and squashed it with my heavy duty winter outdoor patrol boots (im a security guard, not a cop, before anyone draws the wrong conclusion from that), and they proceeded to vague about me IN THE SAME SERVER about how problematic and insensitive i am for triggering their arachnophobia. My brother in christ when did you ever say you were triggered by spiders? Do you expect me to read your fucking mind?
Another instance was when they asked for the role to access the nsfw channel. They were over 18, so it was granted. They then got mad at us whenever we got horny on main in the sex channel because they were only there for the dirty jokes (that were posted in the main server anyway because none of us consider JOKES to be inappropriate). They literally asked for the sex channel role and then claimed we were being problematic because we talked about sex in the sex channel when they were uncomfortable with sex. And they had borderline puritan attitudes around sex. They acted like sex was icky and gross and should never be discussed around them lest it corrupt their pure innocent soul. Yeah thats your own fault chief, grow the fuck up.
Some lightning round stories: they broke up with their boyfriend purely because he liked "irredeemable media" and when said boyfriend said they were being a total dick for that, they proceeded to whine and cry that he was actually being abusive and terrible for being upset that he was dumped over the fucking movies he liked of all things. They once sat outside their little siblings recital and complained that their parents were problematic for not charging their switch enough because it died at the same recital they couldnt be assed to sit in for because "waaaa its too boring and thats bad for my autism." Didnt even TRY, just sat outside the door playing switch and then complained that their parents didnt charge their switch enough. Can you not plug something into a wall your damn self.
Needless to say, i didnt like them very much. I can handle legitimate accommodations, but they were just so self-infantilising that they gave the rest of us a bad name. Your autism is not an excuse to act like a fucking baby. You are not made of porcelain, you will not shatter at the slightest touch, being uncomfortable is a part of life youre going to have to deal with. Its not your autism at this point, youre a grown-ass adult who throws a tantrum when the line is a little long. GROW. UP.
Now that that rants over, lets get into what the DNI on their blog was like, because this behavior from them that I just outlined really contextualizes it.
Their DNI had two tiers. The first was "red flags," which meant that if you met any one of them you apparently werent allowed to interact. Of this included your typical nazis, pedophiles, terfs, and... beastars fans. No word of a lie. Being a fan of beastars was apparently just as bad as being a nazi. What did my boy legosi do to you? (Side note: i am forever enamored with how these people seem to think that theres people out there who both self-identify as nazis and would respect a DNI. I didnt even respect that DNI. I didnt interact with them because i thought they were a terrible person, but i did not take that DNI seriously. I was openly posting about beastars in the same server LMAO) and it wasn't just beastars, there was a ton of media that i didnt even know had discourse around them that they listed as red flags if you ever touched. Amazing.
The second tier was "yellow flags" which meant that you werent allowed to interact if you met any 3 or more of them. Here was mostly media, including homestuck fans, neil gaiman fans (WHAT DID NEIL DO TO YOU), and harry potter iirc. (WHY DID YOU SINGLE OUT BEASTARS?? WHAT DID MY BOY LEGOSI DO TO YOU) my favourite part of this though, was that republicans were listed under yellow flags. Apparently its worse to be a beastars fan than a republican. We arent gonna fucking make it
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jerejerejere · 2 days
Text
I absolutely love Lintu's analysis off kot kot!
(Thanks for giving a platform for additional thoughts ♡ i ended up typing so much that i thought i should also put this in a separate post 😅 i'm just curious what you all think!!)
Idk why it hit different when listening to the whole song but i almost ascended with the first couple of seconds it was so good. Even though i've heard it before. Maybe i was distracted then, who knows.
I'm so glad he teasered both elements of the song before the release because i would have died on impact with the kot kot part. Other than that i have nothing to add to lintu's thoughts - perfect. It's wild and chaotic but still somehow balanced and it doesn't feel like trolling but really sincere even in it's goofyness. The lovely moodyness! Totally!
The song adapts really well with every listen. You feel like you don't want to like it (as much as you do) but here you are replaying it a fifth time, a fifteenth time. Like a taste combination you're not sure you like so you have to go in a second time. And before you know it, you're hooked.
(I still don't love the kot-kot part but that's because i somehow just don't like the word, it's so dry idk.)
I love both parts - the rapping and the singing equally although i will say that i don't vibe with the autotune (it's autotune, right?) that much. (I want to hear your real voice Jere :') even if it's not 100% there yet) I love his voice so much. The high-pitched ''missä'' was a special treat 😫
I love the distorted metallic beats under the rap parts a *lot* lot.
Lintu's analysis of the lyrics is so interesting, i haven't thought of it that way - that this is not a song about the now but a projection into what the future could possibly look like.
Also interesting that the voice on the phone was both Finnish and English 👀 (a hint to friends in other countries and the distance they have?)
I really wish the song was longer. I had the same with ruoska, where it felt like the song was over as soon as you got really into it - blip! Over. (but maybe i'm just slow?) I also wish the 2 elements themselves lasted longer - there's no way you can get into them and really *enjoy* them before they end. And then i was like ... waidaminute! This is intentional! Time confetti! He doesn't get to enjoy his fame and/or private time long enough so neither do we get to live in these elements for too long. It leaves you a little rattled and disoriented. As someone else said - it's like edging 😅 it is! Without resolve. Because that would have been my other point - the song feels like working up to a really good climax but then - bok bok.. 😅😭 That sly little gremlin 😫💚
Also every time i caught myself thinking - hm, that's very commercial 😅 the song kicked the legs out from under me right away 😂 So good for him.
Which brings me to my next hard agree with Lintu - i soooo hope it's a concept album! I don't need to love every song but boy do i love when he experiments. I end up liking those later on mostly. So it's a delayed reward treat idk how to describe it better.
Lastly.
None of this, absolutely none of this, implied sexy poledancing. He just did that. 🙏🏽😫❤
So thank you Jere.
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cowboyinternist · 3 days
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what makes sam and jackie compelling/interesting as a ship to u? /gen :O (not related to anything ive been meaning to send u this ask for a while and only just got round to it lol)
i think a big part of it is that the way jackie talks about sam makes them a lot more interesting as a character?
because objectively, sam sucks! as we see them about 90% of the time, they’re incredibly self serving and negligent. and that’s putting it in as simple terms as possible.
but we get these small implications as time goes on that there’s something beyond that! which is most notable in the interaction they have with dana in episode 83 (another thing i could talk about for a million years (i could also go on a whole other tangent about how them showing their face is another really huge example of this but that’s off topic rn)). but none of them are necessarily set in stone, outright saying who they are. like MAYBE sam isn’t completely horrible, but who can really be sure?
but then Jackie says this in it devours,
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sam is nice! really nice, actually! outside of the specific context of them being the sheriff and instead them,,, fundamentally as a person. and it isn’t like jackie is this one off character whose judgment we can’t trust. we spend an entire book getting to know her! and i feel like jackie is reliable in this aspect, especially post novel 1. this is the first and really like,, ONLY time we get info on sam from somebody who actually knows them personally. and interestingly enough, the next time we get insight on this aspect of their character, it can be linked back to jackie. they only decide to stand up against the university of what it is once they threaten josh, who is jackie’s half brother. and it is IMMEDIATE they are,, FRONT and fucking center in that movement. like their relationship is so interesting because jackie saying something as simple as that shakes up everything we know about this character.
and this all makes it very interesting to explore just,, what makes sam so fucking horrible outside of that? like what is it that drives them to be that way. and there are so many possible answers to that question and i have my own extensive thoughts on that but again,, off topic.
i love it all so much because it plays into the major themes of perspective that wtnv has? which i think is my favorite thing about the podcast. cecil has his own perception of sam, so does dana, so does jackie. and none of those perceptions are necessarily false, because they’re based on those people’s individual experiences.
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also i enjoy the way their relationship is foreshadowed in the novel because i think that with the way she describes it, sam is like the LAST character you’d expect her to end up with lmao.
but yeah TLDR; i find them compelling because sam is absolutely awful and jackie is not, but she describes them as a really nice person anyways ^-^
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I need someone to sit on the couch behind my desk and be in my corner while I’m bootlegging wrestling matches on my laptop, you know, watching on with great interest, hyping me up, commentating, throwing a towel over my shoulders and squirting water into my mouth.
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