#the only good thing to come out that fucking dumpster fire

[not-another-walnut]

the thing about harry potter, and I mean this truly and genuinely from the bottom of my heart, is that it isn’t even that good!!!!

I’m serious, I read hp exactly once, between the ages of 11-12, and it was FINE! like goddamn we has so much WONDERFUL ya fiction at the time and you freaks all latched into one of the most mediocre options???

like sure, I had my hogwarts house in my bio for a couple years because that’s what we used to do in fandom spaces, but I remember taking that out in high school because I remembered that it was fine and I literally don’t give a shit about it and never really have??

you guys have got to let go, it’s so embarrassing to be this attracted to an okay piece of childrens media for soOOoOo long and go so hard for it that you don’t care who gets hurt by it??? absolutely pathetic

#not you a very potter musical you can stay #the only good thing to come out that fucking dumpster fire #OH and the weird romantic dream about ginny weasley I had in fifth grade that started the seed of me liking girls #AND what the FUCK was wrong with the order of the phoenix? who let her publish that because that book is literally so bad #it’s the only one I (attempted) to read twice because I thought i was too young to get it the first time #but it turns out it just fuckinh sucks soooo bad #god y’all are pathetic #get a fucking grip

[keravnous]

diet mountain dew; john wick/fem!reader (smut, 18+)

dating john wick - the playlist

The Boogeyman is out to get you. Little does he know, that you too are willing to do quite a bunch of things just to stay alive.

warnings: blood, guns, knives, injuries, physical violence/fighting, assassination attempt; dub-con, rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), choking, dirty talk, spanking, a lot of manhandling bc for the love of god he doesn't know how to be soft anymore, gun kink, knife kink, size kink, strength kink, squirting, body worship if you blink, is this hate-fucking? idk; john has a horse cock change my mind; john is in his 50s, the reader is in her 20s; set somewhere after the series i guess? (I refuse to accept he's dead); problematic family relationship as a plot device; let's all collectively ignore the fact that he would actually never touch another woman or even dare to catch the smallest of feelings again; john gets off on the violence

word count: 10,6 k

thank you mel for a) listening to my ramblings and b) reading a good chunk of the first third of this dumpster fire and still going nuts about it, kissies and thank you v for listening to my keanu ramblings without losing faith in me

You wonder, if praying will help you. Probably not.

The sound of carnage, screams and gunshots in the hallway abruptly stops. You hear the assailant's heavy footsteps echoing off the floorboards outside of your hotel room mere seconds before the door bursts open, flies out of its hinges and rattles to the ground, wood creaking and breaking, splinters flying everywhere.

There had been a hit out on you for two days and every single soldier in your father's militia was ready to defend your life with their own.

Literally. You can tell by the man entering your suite.

You can tell by just how much he is covered in blood. You can tell by the way it drips down his forehead and how it soaks his white shirt - even the soles of his shoes creak with it. You can tell by the way he is totally and utterly drenched in red red red, and because you are certain it is not his.

They literally gave their life for you. The thought hits you like a blow to the head. People have died because of you. Fathers, brothers, sons. You recall your last conversation with your own father. They want us dead, they put out a contract on us - you had never seen him so nervous, so disheveled. What does that mean - his anxiety had been washing over you in seeping hot waves, sending cold shivers down your spine. It means, I need you out of the house - now.

Nausea bubbles in your stomach as the man now approaches you, casually strolls into the suite with his finger on the trigger of the gun dangling from his hand and you stare back at him - a deer in the headlights, frozen by fear in the eyes of its deadly predator. One of your father's men jumps from his cover, fires a shot and gets hit back with one straight between his eyes. It happens so quickly, that you can't turn your head away. You see the bullet piercing his forehead, blood splattering as soon as it exits the skull on the other side. His head flies back a little, and then his body goes limp, slack, as he falls to the ground with a heavy thud.

You want to scream. You want to vomit. You want to run. But there is nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide from him.

There's only one soldier left with you in the suite now and he is hiding around the corner, near the bathroom. The stranger - the assassin, the killer - does not lower the gun again, and does not let his eyes stray from you as he carefully enters the room. You feel terribly exposed, dressed only in your negligée, not daring to move.

Now, that the dim light of the suite's living room strikes his face, you can finally see him, see the man who has come to end you. He is older than you, maybe nearly twice your age, with dark hair and even darker eyes, matching his black suit. Lean and athletic, chest heaving slightly with physical exhaustion. The Boogeyman.

You do not know who or what you had expected, what cruel and dreadful images your brain had conjured up in the past 48 hours - 48 frightful hours of being moved around from hideout to hideout by your father's men, not staying in one place longer than necessary - but it certainly was not that. Not him. He is a lot more handsome than his reputation has led on. Seeing him on the subway around rush hour you would have never suspected him to be in this business. He looks nice. And that is exactly what makes him dangerous.

You have heard his name before. Echoing from the walls. Baba Yaga. Whispered with both: fear and respect. The Boogeyman. Blurted out: like a curse or like a blessing. Mister Wick: like redemption, like damnation. Jonathan, the king's son walking the earth as the devil.

John. The sound of his name is oddly human - disturbingly human - for someone looking as calm and collected, focused and concentrated as he does right now, while being drenched in blood and pointing a gun at you.

You must have said his name out loud, because his eyebrows twitch irritatedly, a movement so quick you barely missed it - must've sound desperate too, then.

Vision zeroing in on the barrel of his gun, your hands clutch the sofa's edge. There is so much adrenaline pumping through your veins right now that it freezes your limbs, has your ears ringing. The only thing responding to your brain fully are your eyes, and they snap away from the gun and over to the remaining soldier. It's a quick look, not even a second, but the hitman seems to recognize it and - with near inhumane speed - flicks his gun, and fires two shots. Blood splatters against the white door as the shots pin the soldier's body against it, and is it finally drops to the ground heavily it leaves a nasty trail, all wet and sticky and red.

Could be you.

You want to scream, but your body does not belong to you anymore, does not respond to your commands. It is a desperate, cruel sound that leaves your throat instead as you flinch with the sound of the gun being fired.

"Let's make this quick" his voice is gravelly and rough, like he has seen a thousand grim things and the pain of it has etched its way into his throat, left a nasty mark on every tone that ever dared to cross after.

That is when your fight or flight suddenly kicks in. Well, more specifically, it kicks in while he is speaking, as he starts to swap the empty clip of his gun.

He underestimates you. Everyone does. Your father, your brother. The countless men lying dead littered across the hotel's 25th floor. It will be his mistake.

You latch forward, grabbing the vase from the coffee table in front of you. The weight of it in your hand drags you down.

With all the strength you can muster, which is quite a lot considering the massive amounts of adrenaline that are currently amping up your body - you throw it at him. It connects with his forehead sharply; a deep, irritated noise bursting from his throat as it crashes, splinters and falls to the floor.

You are braver, braver than you should be as your assault does not end there, your body pushing you forward, leaping over the table and crashing into his broad shoulders.

I will not die today

Body ramming into his, he stumbles, as your fist connects with his chin. You have only been partially trained in hand-to-hand combat, after pleading your brother for months until he eventually gave in. Sadly, he wasn't nearly as thorough and honest with it as he was training his drug dealer and gun runners. But now, it is the only thing you can rely on.

There is nothing else; no one else left alive in that building who might be able to help you. It is up to you. So, you might as well try.

And Oh, does desperation fire up your blood.

I will not die today

The diversion does not last long and he - John John John only human only human only human - grabs you by you waist hard, fingers digging into your flesh and into the expensive silk, before he slams your body into the ground. All air leaves your lungs with a dull sound erupting from your chest, just as pain blooms around your ribs.

You cough and he looks down at you, confusion making his brows twitch, before cold-hearted determination takes over once more. John aims his gun at you once more, pulls back the hammer and you do not even think about it, your leg rising as you kick against his hand. The shot misses, buries itself deep into the expensive carpet a few inches next to your skull. You have no time to do either: panic or sigh in relief; instead, you deliver him a kick to his stomach, fighting yourself back onto your feet, punching him straight in the face.

John grunts and grabs your wrist, but you see it coming and throw yourself into his wide frame, wrapping your other arm around his back and thus hooking it underneath his right shoulder, dislocating his arm and preventing him from aiming his gun at you. You claw onto him as he twists your arm close to his stomach, while you wrap your legs around him, making it harder for John to shake you off.

I will not die today

You kick and dig the heel of your foot into his thighs and the back of his knees and he grunts and buckles a little, but turns wild and relentless quicker than you can blink, throws the two of you into the next wall. You gasp sharply as your back connects with the large mirror, splinters digging into your back - not deep enough to actually cut skin, but it stings nonetheless, the impact making you dizzy.

Sharp pain shoots through your back and your neck, but you are not willing to give up yet, as raw energy and rage and desperation surges through your body - one of your legs coming loose and your knee hitting his stomach repeatedly, making John grunt in pain and you use your momentum to dig your hand deep into his back, holding onto him and then swirling out of the deadlock he has got you in, jumping his back like a monkey.

His gun clatters to the ground and for a split second, the room falls silent. Then, roaring like an animal gone wild, he grabs your calves and slams his back into the nearest wall, has you screaming with the impact. You can feel blood pouring from your nose, feel it trickling down your lips.

I will not die today

John is stronger than you are, so so much stronger - the apex predator: all muscle, unbreakable focus and the sheer will to kill. But you are not only a little quicker; you also really want to stay alive. It is a force he rarely encounters. And quite frankly, it irritates him.

He may be older than you, taller than you and stronger than you but you have something he does not have: you actually still got something to lose.

And you fight like it, too. All scratches and sharp yells, as you punch and scrabble at his shoulders and tear at his tie, trying to strangle him with it. John is struggling against it, gasping for air and winding beneath your assault and then his grip around your claves grows hard like iron, seconds before he pulls - throws you over his head like you weigh nothing. You land on the expensive carpet with a heavy thud - groaning as you crash onto your side with sharp pain shooting through your shoulder, down your ribcage.

I will not die today

John sputters and stumbles forward, looking for his gun but you are quicker, kicking it away with your foot. It clatters back onto and slides over the wooden floorboards.

For a second you consider your choices, fighting yourself back onto your feet but John - a practiced and seasoned fighter - beats you to it and lands a blow to your upper back, sends you back down with him - a mess of sputtering saliva and painful groans. His body topples onto yours and he quickly rolls the two of you over the floor.

John is heavy and warm on top of you, as he keeps you in a tight headlock, your chest pressed to the floor and neck bend in a painful angle. He presses his strong forearm down onto your windpipe and you choke and cough, feet kicking, hands dragging across the wood, clawing at it feebly.

You can feel his breath on your cheek, hot and damp. You can feel his torso pressing against your back as he kneels behind you.

I will not die today

Mustering all your remaining strength, you trash against him, ramming your backside into his stomach. He grunts and for a split second, his grip loosens. It is all you need. Throwing your elbow back, you hit him in the chest and he caves in.

You cough, crawling forward and then scrambling back onto your feet, one of your negligée’s straps falling down your shoulder in the process. You hastily pull it back up, seconds before John launches a cascade of punches onto you.

A few of them hit you as you try to block them; dull pain igniting in your body, blooming in your face and arms. Your breath goes heavy as you stumble backwards. You cannot do this. There is no way. You just physically can't.

He is stronger. Taller. Heavier. Deadlier. Your body and every single muscle, bone, nerve in it aches and you wheeze but he is already onto you again, half-tackles you and grabs your waist, ready to smash you back onto the ground.

You cling onto him with all your remaining strength, struggling against his huge frame, wrapping your hands around his neck in an attempt to get him to stumble.

His hair tingles on your naked arms. Oh wait --

Tearing at his hair - which has him grunting in both, pain, and irritation at the unusual attempt - you clumsily pull yourself up onto his shoulders, cutting his face right above his eyebrow with your nails in the process until you finally wrap one leg around his throat and close it around there tightly, choking him. John tries to pull you off him and succeeds after quite the tussle, only to find your frame clinging to him, legs and arms wrapping around his body, hands scratching and feet kicking.

I will not fucking die today

In an attempt to either get rid of each other or submit the last blow, to finally kill the other, you two swirl through the room - a deadly dance of torn skin, smashed glass panes and mirrors, bruises and cuts. Somewhere in between kicks and punches, he managed to pick up his gun - and right now, you are mustering all of your exhausted strength to prevent the barrel from pressing against your skull.

Eventually, John crashes your bodies through a large wooden door, and is not quick enough - unable to stop his own oxe-like strength - to stop himself from stumbling into the room. The two of you only come a halt as his knees hit something soft and ironically that is what finally topples both of you over, landing onto the mattress of your bedroom with a soft thud and deep, exhausted grunts.

Your ears ring, and you are ready to lash out at him again despite the physical exhaustion, to strike him square across the face, as --

There is something hard pressing against your crotch.

The world falls silent.

No. No, there's no fucking way. It's got to bea hidden weapon. Must be.

But clearly, it is not. There, between your spread legs, his hard cock presses snugly against your panty-clad pussy.

And he just feels so huge - mouth-watering huge - that your body responds in its own way, hips snapping up, stuttering against the hard bulge. John lets go off a shaky, ragged breath, hand still clutching his gun. And you know, that this is your window.

Feeling the warmth that his body and his hard dick are radiating through his expensive suit, you roll your hips once - a languid, slow motion, rubbing your pussy over his bulge.

And he groans. A deep, primal sound that sounds a little coarse. John is looking at you, starring you down, but there is a shadow dancing over his eyes, turning his brown eyes into deep and dark, black pits that gives him away.

He is horny. The Boogeyman is fucking horny. You would laugh, if the realization wasn't knocking all air straight from your lungs. Because it just another reminder, proof of what he actually is: human.

And what a sight he is to see - eyes turning darker every second, his chest heaving with every breath and making it seem like his shirt is going to pop a button or two any second now, his cock prodding against its restraints and your clothed cunt.

It makes you want him. The thought leaves you dizzy, makes you gasp.

Apparently, that is all he needs to roll his hips back into yours. And that - that is just unfair. It's playing dirty. It's, it's -- His dick feels huge as it trails along your folds, has the muscles in your abdomen clenching.

"Fuck", you breathe, a little overwhelmed with and helpless at the sudden surge of lust that ignites your body, the wetness pooling between your legs.

John is not saying anything, just stares you down while he continues to slooowly roll his hips into yours, grinds his cock against your cunt. Your pelvis twitches upward as you start to meet his movements, and then you can hear it. He let's go of a deep breath, and it sounds like the faintest moan.

You need to hear more of that. You need more of him, your cunt aching and hole clenching around nothing already.

"John", and this time you say his name - consciously - it sounds a different way of desperate: your voice reduced to a small whisper, torn at the edges by a wanton whimper ripping from your throat.

If it throws him off-guard he does not show it, does not let you see it. Instead, he grabs your chin hard, gaze locking with yours. Dark pupils blown wide, swallowing the honey-brown of his eyes, and your breath hitches.

"Yeah?", he rasps, and it does not take more than one long look from you for him to lean in, to press his lips onto yours.

The kiss tastes of blood and adrenaline and doom, and you relish in it. Relishing the way his lips move against yours and his beard tickles a little, relishing how his tongue presses into your mouth. It feels like he is eating you whole, licking into your mouth, one hand dancing over your waist - featherlight, like he doesn't know how to touch a body without hurting someone, destroying someone.

I will not die today, motherfucker

Your whole body now sings with it, the security of an impending victory, as you roll your hips into his once more, your tongue now licking back into his mouth. For a second you think about how to strike again, now that he is seemingly distracted, but all will to fight leaves your body as one of his hands brushes over your knee, wanders further and eventually rests on your thigh.

The touch is electrifying and then his hand grows braver, his movements more certain, as he grabs your thigh, feels you up. It happens so suddenly, that you gasp into the kiss.

John parts from you, his lips a little plush already. "Oh God", you whisper as you stare Death Turned Human straight in the face, not a single thought remaining in your skull despite your lust.

He doesn't speak, as he gently let’s go off your leg and straightens back up and for a second you think he is going to hurt you, with the way his brows are furrowed - but he doesn't.

Instead, he moves in, right over your comparably tiny frame - a mountain of a man. John kneels above you, his weight pinning you down while he straddles your thighs and Jesus fucking Christ - what a sight he is to see.

Dark locks falling into his forehead, a little sticky with sweat and the bits of blood from the cut your nails gave him moments ago - right above his left eyebrow, still lazily trickling down into his lashes. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, as he hastily gets rid of his jacket, carelessly drops it to the ground. His black button-down clings to his muscular body underneath his waistcoat and his equally as muscular thighs pin you down to the bed, black fabric nearly tearing at the seams. And then there is his hard cock.

It looks as huge as it felt, with the way it bulges his pants, the outline of it clearly visible as it buckles proudly against its restraints. You are certain, you will not be able to close your hand around it fully - not a chance.

One of his hands - the one lacking a finger, which you only now notice and what sends shivers down your spine - wanders over your body, pulling your negligée down in the process, right tit spilling out of the soft silk. He immediately grabs it, cups it with his large hand and squeezes. You mewl, marveling at just how big his hand is, just as his whole body is in comparison to you. His fucked-up finger digs into the flesh, sending shivers down your spine.

John's hand gropes your tit, before he impatiently pulls the neckline down roughly. You sigh, arousal shooting down your spine and tingling in your lower belly, as two of his fingers nudge your nipple, pinch it.

He watches your face intently, as he continues to grope you, rolls your nipple between his fingers. You mewl, breath accelerating a little but it is just not enough and you buck your hips upwards. John grunts in, what you assume is an approving manner, and let's go off your tit, reaches to his belt at his loins.

Quickly pulling a knife from God-knows-where exactly, a sharp blade enters your vision.

You blink, panic seeping through your lust and your legs twitch a little with fear. If John notices it, he neither shows it nor does he say anything, just moves the knife closer to your body.

The blade shines in the dim light as it dances over your exposed thighs carefully, the metal cooly pressing against your skin, before he flicks it and cuts your negligée open. The thin, soft fabric cleanly cut in half it now lazily slides from your aching body, falls to its sides. Your chest heaves, shivers running down your arms and back.

It happens so quickly that you can only blink. As your brain finally catches up with your eyes, you come to realize that he is holding a real fucking tactical knife. You have thrown one once - they are sharp as hell and deadlier than a bullet. The sound of fabric tearing easily, like paper, proves your point.

And John's movements with the blade are so fast that your breath hitches, a little afraid he might cut you. But he does not, instead, he quickly pulls the torn silk off you and away from under you, carelessly tosses it into the dark of the room.

The edge of the blade dances over your skin and you do not dare to breathe, as he trails it up and down your curves, gently nudges your nipples. "I could kill you", he says calmly and then, in lightning speed, presses the blade into the crook of your neck. Your head sinks back into the mattress, in an instinct to flee the sharp edge.

All it does is to expose your neck further and something gleams in John's eyes, as he presses the sharp tip down slowly, carefully nudging your skin with it. The metal is cold and hard and sharp and your breath hitches. Just a little bit more and it might burst your skin, draw blood.

But, to your own confusion, you do not feel threatened anymore. Oddly enough, your nerves tingle with excitement. You blame it on the already high levels of adrenaline that still pump through your veins, rushing back and forth from your brain and your lungs, but a small voice inside of your head whisper gently, deviously, that you know That's not it. And he knows it, too.

It's in his eyes as well, the sheer excitement of it all, the fucked-up pleasure it evokes in the both of you lays heavy in the air.

It turns you fucking on. It turns you on, that the man who - minutes ago - tried you kill you and did hurt you very fucking badly in the process of it, now decides to let you live.

It turns you on, that you are at his mercy.

It turns you on, that he decided to spare you - just for now.

It turns you on, that these large and strong hands holding the knife have that sort of power over you. And thus, as the blade nudges your head back further, you moan.

"I could cut your throat", John's voice is heavy and thick with arousal and you can feel your heartbeat picking up, breath accelerating. His gaze drops down, watches the rapid rising and falling of your breasts hungrily, while another soft moan escapes from your lips.

"Don't", you breathe softly.

The knife practically burns on your skin, and you can feel arousal flooding your clothed pussy, rubbing your thighs together for any sort of friction. John can feel your squirming underneath him, but he can also see your eyes turning watery and dark with lust, pupils blown and a pretty pink spreading on your cheeks, your breath growing shallow. And he just really needs to fucking taste you right now.

As quickly as it appeared, the blade vanishes from your throat before he twirls the knife like the ruthless, reckless professional that he is, and buries it deep to the hilt in the mattress next to you. The sharp sound as it pierces the thick fabric has the hairs on your body standing up, goosebumps rolling over your skin.

"I'll do it later", he rumbles - casually, like he is talking about doing chores or picking up groceries - before hunching over you, grabbing your chin with his fucked-up hand, and kissing you again. His tongue immediately pushes into your mouth, like he is starving to taste you.

John eats you whole, with the way his lips move against yours. His hand cups your face, tongue licking into your mouth, toying with yours. His kiss steals your breath and you start to get dizzy with it, hips bucking. You can feel his lips curling up and then he parts from you, leaving you a gasping mess, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"Let me touch you, John", you whisper, voice a little small because you do not know why you feel that way, and if he will even allow it. But you just need to feel him.

For a long moment his gaze dances over your face and something shifts behind his eyes, like a shadow gets lifted and then very quickly returns. Ultimately, he gives a court nod, so small you nearly miss it and gives you a little more room while straightening back up.

Carefully, as if not to spook him, you dart one hand out, place it on his chest. The muscle is firm underneath his suit and you run your hand along the lapel of his jacket, down and then back up, before it slips beneath it.

John's body radiates warmth under the black fabric of his shirt and your other hand comes up, before you shove the jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor next to the bed.

Your breath hitches.

He is wearing a holster, a reminder of his deadliness, of the gun laying somewhere next to you. Maybe, he sees the fear returning in your eyes, but he is quick to shrug the holster off, throws it into the dark where it clatters onto the wooden floor boards. What is left in front of you are broad shoulders and a muscular chest, the fabric nearly tearing at his movements.

As you run your hands over it, you cannot help yourself - you need to fucking feel him for real.

Quickly making work of his waistcoat and tie you toss both to the side carelessly, before your hands roam his broad chest. His button-down clings snugly against his upper body and you can feel the muscles work beneath the black fabric as your hands brush over them. You tug at the shirt, pulling its tails from his pants before hastily opening the first few buttons. The skin underneath is pale, littered by blue - red - black bruises, birthmarks scattered in between like stars. You pop open the rest of the buttons, greedy to touch him. And as the shirt falls to the sides your hands are already onto his chest, roaming over and admiring the muscular, defined canvas of strength, that violence has painted a pretty picture on.

John is watching you intently as you undress him and then explore his body, your pupils blown wide and dark, mouth agape a little. He is a little taken aback by it - by someone not seeing his body as the ultimate tool of death that it is, but as something else, that he cannot really pinpoint because he can't even look in the mirror without seeing destruction and decay. But the way your gaze wanders over his body, the way you touch him, is different from that and he has not felt anything like it in years.

And John wants. Carnal desire tugs at his brain, shoots arousal between his legs, makes his cock twitch and a low growl escaping his throat.

The sound gets you going: pushing yourself up with one hand, the other wrapping around his strong neck for leverage as you sit up, mouth immediately clutching to his throat. He tastes of sweat and after-shave - sharp and musky - and you run your tongue over his skin greedily, licking and sucking at the skin while your naked body presses against his.

It disarms him. The gentle touch that you put his body up to, while everything still aches from plowing through the better half of your father's militia and beating the hell out of you, confuses him. Your touch, your lips on his skin are soft and not aiming to hurt - instead, they grow more and more needy, wanton and hasty, as you lick over his bruised skin, tasting his sweat. Your hands over his abdomen caress his defined muscles, in awe of his utter strength, thumbs brushing through the soft and dark trail of hair leading beneath the waistband of his trousers. And all John can do, is watch, his gaze locking with yours as goosebumps erupt on his skin.

And you - oh you; your head swims with the way you turn this animal into a human again, unlock a different set of animalistic needs within him and hearing John's breath growing heavy really fucking does it for you, feeling his scarred and beaten-up skin underneath your hands, wrapping them around the deadly machine that is his body. It makes you want more.

Shedding his blood-stained shirt off of his shoulders, your hands roam over his upper back - feeling the scars there: of knives, larger and small ones and round ones of bullets that once pierced his skin. There is something else, a burn scar, in the shape of a cross and he hisses as your fingers brush over it, nails digging into the stunted skin.

It pulls John out of his stasis, reminds him of who he is and you can feel the air swinging with it seconds before he moves. His large hands wrap around your shoulders and then he pulls you off him, throws you back onto the mattress. You yelp, eyes growing wide as you watch his face as it turns from lightly dazed back to stern, wild, with his brows furrowed.

"That's enough", he says, voice coarse and it still feels like a small victory, even though he spreads your legs roughly, hands digging deep into your thighs - hard enough to bruise - before he kneels between them. He yanks your body forward at the back of your knees, watches your tits bounce and then leans in, his lips immediately attacking your throat, your neck.

His lips are surprisingly soft against your skin, his beard tickling a little as it brushes over your tits, your stomach, your thighs while his tongue licks fat stripes over your nipples and down down down your upper body, right to your navel. One of his hands creeps up your body once more and roughly cups your tit, squeezes, and gropes it, rolls your hardened nipple between his index and middle finger. His stunted ring-finger digs deep into your tit and you gasp, hips bucking. John's lips suck and nibble at your skin, before eventually ghosting over your pubic bone, teasing you before assaulting your thighs again, teeth biting down gently into the soft flesh. You gasp and moan while he gropes your body, inhales your scent - as you watch how his lips, tongue, and teeth dance over your thighs, moving closer to your cunt.

John finally, finally, puts his mouth onto your pussy, peppers open-mouthed kisses around your clit, before clothing his lips around it and sucking on it hard through your panties. Your hips buck as a high-pitched moan erupts from your throat, hands flying into his greying locks.

"Fuck", you whine, feeling fresh wetness flooding your folds, dampening the thin fabric further. John can see the outlines of your wet pussy pressing against your panties and parts from your clit momentarily, only to lick a fat stripe over your clothed cunt, watching it twitch.

"That's fucking pretty", he rasps, gaze locking with yours and you feel all air leaving your lungs. His eyes are so fucking dark, like gleaming black pits swallowing you whole, his breath a little flat with arousal.

You want him to fuck you. Really fuck you. To plow you open, rail you until you cannot sit nor walk. He is already so so close to you, but too far away at the same time. "Please", is all you manage to utter out. And it seems to be sufficient enough for him; seems to get across what you want, what you need.

John's fingers wrap around the front of your lace slip, tugging at the fabric - that rubs along your cunt at the sudden motion and has you gasping quietly - and then he pulls. The lace tears easily as he rips it apart, and cool air hits your wet and hot pussy, as he practically peels you out of your underwear, throws it to the side. The look on his face is wild and you can hear him taking a deep breath, smelling your arousal, before he spreads your folds apart with his thumbs, gaze wandering over your plump and flushed cunt.

Teasingly brushing over your clit with his thumb, John watches your reaction intently. And fuck, you do not disappoint. Throwing your head back, you moan, drawing in a deep breath through your opened mouth that heaves your chest, your eyelids fluttering.

You are dying for him to touch you and as he does, it feels like your body catches fire - lust washing away the dull pain in your limbs and near your ribs.

"Oh God", you breathe out as his thumb draws another wide and slow circle over your clit, your hands darting out and grabbing the sheets "Please."

And John complies, his thumb rubbing over your clit in a slow but steady rhythm.

Gasping, your hands clutch the sheets, knees darting away from each other, giving him more space. John accepts the invitation, grabs one thigh hard, fucked up ring-finger digging deep into your skin. His fingers move further, abandons your clit and dance over your folds, down to your hole. It flutters as two of his digits tease it, gently circling around it.

"Please", you whine once more, lifting your hips a little, a desperate noise leaving your throat. John smirks to himself, before pushing two of his fingers into you.

The stretch is sudden and bigger than expected and you moan coarsely, as he pushes his digits along your walls deeply and nestles them into your seeping hot cunt up to his knuckles. And Jesus, you feel so full already; your head swimming as you consider how big his cock must feel, then.

Your breath goes quick and shallowly as he starts to move them, and then he leans in. Nudges your clit with the tip of his tongue, licks over it.

You feel like combusting on the spot: your nerves tingling with arousal, your whole body still aching from the beating you gave each other earlier - the pain in your back blooming as you stretch it with your hips desperately shoving themselves near his touch - your pussy squeezing his fingers.

John pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, his tongue rubbing and circling your clit and soft, needy moans fall from your lips. Obscene, wet sounds fill the air, mingle with your moans and heavy breathing. His lips close in around your clit, sucking at it while his fingers rub along your spongy walls and your cunt squeezes them hard as fresh wetness floods your folds, your squirt wetting his beard and dripping down on the sheets below.

You can hear - feel - John humming against your pussy, peppering the wet skin with open mouthed kisses, licking over it, and tasting your slick.

You feel so fucking good - lust pulsating through your veins, loins on fire - and your head falls to the side, body rocking with sharp gasps and your mouth agape, eyelids fluttering as --

There's the gun. And the knife.

You could easily grab either one or the other next to you, pull the blade out of the matress or the hammer back; put a bullet right between his eyes or plow the blade deep deep into his skull. Killing the Boogeyman. Killing Baba Yaga.

That would do wonders to your family's business. It would emancipate you from it, you would be free. Free to rule.

"Thinking 'bout killing me?", John rumbles, tongue licking a fat stripe over your cunt, nudging your clit. Your gaze flickers back to him: hair a mess, eyes gleaming darkly, hands on your thighs to keep your legs spread. He does not look surprised. Neither does he look worried.

Realization hits you like a blow to the head: he is toying with you. Has been the whole fucking time. The wolf hunting the deer, running a few rounds through the woods to weaken it; its breath whistling with exhaustion, long legs buckling before it collapses - an easy kill. An easy kill for an old wolf, one, that can't quite handle a real hunt anymore.

But maybe, just maybe - judging from the look in his eyes - he got lost in his own game. Its reins slipped from his bloody hands, the wolf tumbling to the ground.

Looking back at him, your lips curl into a sweet smile. "Not anymore", your hand darts out, brushing the loose strands of dark hair from his face - the soft gesture leaving him visibly confused -, "John."

Two can play this game. And maybe, just maybe, the deer can tire the wolf out first.

Something gleams in John's eyes, dances over them like a shadow and he seems to accept the challenge - readying to tire you out - tongue licking over your clit once more, making you shiver and mewl, as he pulls his fingers out of your dripping hole. You feel empty and --

"Do you really think, you could kill me?", he rumbles, voice deep and rough around the edges, "Stupid slut."

And then, quicker than your brain can process it, his hand comes down on your dripping wet pussy.

Your breath hitches, topples over and leaves your throat as a raw, needy moan. Softly stinging pain blooms between your folds and sets your nerves on fire. Blame it on the bruises, blame it on the pain you both inflicted on each other moments ago, but: it riles you up. Mingles with your aching bones and aching cunt, has you arching your back.

"Y'really think you could kill me", he doesn't sound offended, not even amused - voice plain, like he is inquiring if you really believed the earth to be flat. Like you really are stupid.

And you start to feel stupid, too. There was never a chance. You never had a chance. Your death was sealed, determined the second John stepped into the hotel.

You were stupid to believe you could outrun or beat him. You are stupid. And John has every right to show you, teach you, punish you for it.

Giving your cunt another firm slap, John watches your hips twitch, hears your pussy squelching and soft moans falling from your lips. "Shit", you sigh and he slaps your wet pussy once more, feels your slick folds wetting the palm of his hand.

"D'you like that, girl?", and as your only response are wanton gasps falling from your mouth John chuckles deeply, gives your pulsating cunt another two firm slaps. Seeing how he is pulling you apart, how good he makes you feel really seems to do it for him, gets him quite talkative.

"Uh-huh", you make dumbly, quite illiterate, watching him stroking your flushed, hot cunt with two of his fingers. Shivers run down your spine.

And then he leans back in, licks a fat stripe over your sensitive, flushed cunt, from the hole up to the clit.

You squirm, mewl as his beard brushes over your overstimulated skin, leaving a slight burn that mingles deliciously with a fresh wave of arousal that floods your body scalp to toes.

The muscles in your abdomen clench as two of his fingers circle your fluttering hole and then push in, rubbing along your plush walls agonizingly slowly and you can feel yourself tightening around it. Your juices squelch from your cunt as you squirt against his tongue and your slick runs down your folds, wets his fingers and palm while his tongue laps at your pussy, tasting your sweetness.

John pushes is fingers deeper as you moan and sigh, hands fisting his hair and hips moving against his tongue, his digits thrusting into you.

"Oh god", you huff as his lips close in around your clit, sucking on it and the tip of his tongue flicking against it occasionally.

Another wave of fresh wetness floods your cunt as you squirt once more, wetting the sheets below, your slick running down John's wrist.

John parts from your clit, nudges it with his tongue, his beard glistening with your juices.

"Yeah, that's fucking it", another one of his thick fingers pumps itself into your tight little hole and his other hand - also slick with your juices - grabs your thigh, "That's a good girl."

You feel so full, your spine feels like it's on fire and your brain tingles with it, sends wave of pleasure down down down your body; muscles in your loins clenching, chest heaving. It becomes all too much as he leans back in, rubs his tongue over your clit, lips sucking and teasing your folds.

The slight burn of John's beard tickling your plush, hot cunt. His fingers working your open and stretching your tight little hole open far and wide, obscene squelching sounds filling the air as he works you open, brushing against your g-spot occasionally and making you see stars.

But it's too little. It's just not enough.

"Fuck", you whine as John's thick fingers brush over your g-spot with quite some force, tongue lapping at your seeping cunt, "Shit, please. Please, just fuck me, please!"

You can feel him grinning against your wet cunt, beard a little sticky with your juices, letting go of your pussy with an obscene pop. "Yeah", he licks his lips, tastes you on his tongue, "D'you want my cock?"

And that - that might be what makes you lose your mind. Because yes. Yes, you do.

You have been craving to touch it, to feel it since it had pressed against your clothed pussy earlier. Thus, all dignity leaves your body with one, clean whine that breaks free from your throat.

"Yes, fuck - oh god, John", you brabble, legs falling apart further, inviting him in, his digits sinking deeper into your soaking wet hole, "Shit, please fuck me, John - please, please, please --"

Pleas are still falling from your lips like a chant, as a surprising noise breaks the silence, so strangely beautiful that it has you nearly shuddering: John is laughing. It's a nice baritone sound, and the fine lines around his eyes crinkle with it - it's so beautiful, that it drowns the world out. You watch him in awe, as he shakes his head, avoids your gaze.

"Jesus. Look at you", he huffs, voice dripping thickly with amusement, "If you need it that badly--"

Straightening back up and kneeling between your legs, John slips his fingers from your cunt and makes quick work of his belt, trousers, and boxers. The second he frees is cock, you start to drool like a fucking pavlovian-dog.

His dick is so fucking huge. It is nicely curved and cut, the bulbous pink head glistening with pre-cum and a thick, pumping vein at the bottom that rakes from the base to the tip, as it rests between trimmed, dark pubic hair. His cock bobs against his abdomen as it bounces free, smears the pre-cum along the pale skin, twitches at the sudden contact. And Jesus fucking Christ, you just want to fucking touch it, feel its velvety skin in your palm. But you just know that you won't even be able to wrap your hand around its base fully, it's impossible, it--

"I-it won't fit", you whisper, a little taken aback by his sheer size.

"Oh, I'll make it fit, baby."

John takes his cock in one hand, thumb right beneath its head, and rubs it against your slit. And Jesus fucking Christ. Your hips snap up, meet his movements, and he grunts while he spreads his pre-cum along your cunt, gathers your slick. The thick head of his dick prods against your entrance and you take a deep breath, looking down between your legs. You watch how he slooowly pushes in and you gasp at the sudden intrusion, the delicious stretch making you moan.

His cock feels so fucking big, hot, and heavy, as he nestles the tip in, your hole clenching around it. John's brows furrow, and he doesn't wait long until he pushes his cock in further.

The thick base starts to stretch your slim rings of muscles, a sharp pain shooting through it. He can feel your hole protesting, can see you wincing. "Breathe, baby", he hums, "Let me do the rest."

His coarse voice mingles with his words and the waves of pleasure shooting through your body despite the dull pain, conjures up a pretty pretty image that floods your brain - there's sunlight everywhere, orange rays of it hitting a bed covered in white sheets, sweaty bodies on top of it; limbs entangled, hands intertwined with their golden rings shining brightly in the warm light, heavy breathing and sloppy kisses, and lazy thrusts as his cock fucks you awake. The thought makes you dizzy, your legs falling apart and hole fluttering open, inviting him in.

The slight burn leaves you a gasping, whimpering mess as he pushes himself in deep, nestles his huge cock in between your aching, hot, and tight walls.

And John feels like he is going to pass out. No blow to the head, no bullet to the chest, no knife to the stomach could ever make him feel as dizzy as the feeling of your hot cunt squeezing him does right now. His whole body is vibrating with want and lust and he just really hopes that you don't notice that he has gotten a little rusty. The thought quickly gets drowned-out as he looks down, where his thick cock practically splits you open, vanishes in your hole.

"Shit", he huffs out, places one large hand on your stomach and thrusts. Feeling himself moving inside of you has him moaning, gaze shooting up to you, meeting your eyes, as his hand presses down. "You feel me right here, baby?", he rasps and you nod, mouth agape by the sheer force of his thrust, tip of his cock prodding your cervix.

John can see his cock moving inside of you, the way your stomach bulges a little. He gets a little dizzy with, and then his eyes make the mistake of moving up to your face. And it takes a whole lot of fucking will-power of him to not just thrust and thrust and thrust and fuck you until you cry, bleed.

You are so fucking pretty. Mouth agape you watch how his cock vanishes between your legs, splits your cunt open, with his eyes heavy-lidded and cheeks flushed. Your lips are plush and red from his assault.

Your hands grip the sheets and your breasts heave with your deep breaths, that grow a little more flaccid. Next to you lays his gun, knife still buried into the mattress. His eyes drop to the weapons and his breath hitches. And for a split second, like a flash of light, he wonders what in God's name he's doing here. He is a professional. The Ballerina works like that. He doesn't.

A sweet, sweet noise rips him out of his thoughts. "J-john", you mewl, eyes still trained on his massive dick splitting you open, "I-it, it's --"

"Yeah?", he breathes, the sound all soft and careful around the edges.

"Heavy", you breathe.

"Does it hurt?", he kind of wants it to. Make you pay for what you did to him. He kind of doesn't want it to. Make you enjoy what he's got to give.

John realizes he is fucked.

You nod, head flying back into the cushions, while your brows dart together.

John's free hand flies to your clit, nudges it gently, before slowly rubbing wide circles over it. You gasp, as you feel fresh wetness flooding your cunt and dripping down your folds to where his cock splits your hole open, pools around it. He carefully pulls out a little and then pushes back in, assisted by your slick. The way you moan spurs him on and the circles on your clit grow faster and smaller.

Aching your back, you lean into the touch. "That's a good girl", he whispers, voice raw and coarse, dripping with lust and the exhaustion of holding back. John bottoms out, while continuing to rub your clit and he can feel your walls growing plush, your hole fluttering around his dick, relaxing with your hot, seeping cunt inviting him in. "Feels good?"

"Yeah, fuck", you feel like you are being split open, with his thick cock filling you to the brim and rubbing along your walls with every little movement, the thick head prodding gently against your cervix, "Shit, John."

It feels so fucking good, all thoughts being washed away from your brain as he starts to move carefully, thrusts into you once, twice. You moan, lips slightly parted, before your gaze flies to him.

And Fuck. John's chest is flushed a little, muscles of his abdomen flexing with every thrust while his gaze is trained down to where his cock fucks into you, brows darted together a little and his breathing audible.

"John?", you whisper, and his gaze immediately shoots up to you as your comparably tiny hand wraps around the wrist of his hand that is still rubbing your clit.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck me."

For a long moment, he just looks at you and you think - no, you are convinced - that you can see a glimpse of the human being he once was. Caring, sweet and gentle; as he seems to really take it into consideration if you are ready yet, if you know what you are begging for.

Apparently, he does deem you prepared enough, and the soft gaze gets replaced by a dark gleam as all gentleness vanishes from his face once more. Without a warning, John rolls his hips back only to thrust into you again, deep, and hard, immediately picking up a quick rhythm.

It comes as a genuine surprise to you and you gasp, mewling but it quickly feels just so fucking good, practically lights your body up and leaves every nerve-ending on fire, each thrust has you moaning loudly.

It spurs him on, makes him grunt and for a while, you both just watch him gliding in and out of your tight hole, with him feeling your muscles squeezing him and you feeling his cock stretching your open further and further. Your lips as slightly parted and his brows are furrowed as he rolls his hips into yours and you feel time getting lost on you, the only thing of importance remaining is the feeling of him filling you up. John's hands roam your body, wandering over your thighs and your stomach, your hips before angling your leg, pushing the heel of your foot on his shoulder, and grabbing your ankle with one hand, his dick slips into you even further, balls slapping against your ass heavily with each thrust.

You can tell that John has not fucked in a long, long time. It's not the way he does it - all fluid, languid thrust of his hips, muscles dancing under the soft skin. It's mostly the way he pants and grunts - sounds just as desperate as you feel. And still, he has the stamina of a racehorse.

You can feel that he wants to prove it, too, as his free hand grabs your thigh and hoists your other leg over his hip bone, practically pulling your lower half off the bed in the process. Your pelvis now clings to his, obscene sounds of his cock fucking into your wet pussy filling the air while he huffs with his thrusts, yet does not slow down.

The grip on both, your ankle and your thigh are hard, and you are certain his hands will leave a bruise but you just cannot bring yourself to care. Deep down you know, that someone will see them: your maids, your friends, your family.

But all thoughts, all worries get swapped from your brain as your gaze wanders up from where John's dick hammers into you steadily, rakes over his defined stomach and chest and finally, finally lands on his face.

He looks downright, utterly, and breathtakingly -- pornographic.

John's dark pupils blown wide gleaming with arousal, his cheeks are slightly blushed and a thin layer of sweat makes him glow in the dim light of the living room falling onto the bed. It surrounds him like a halo, a Saint of Death and Decay, with his dark hair falling into his forehead and onto his shoulders. He brushes it out of the way with his stunted hand, a ragged breath making his chest heave. There is still some of your slick wetting his beard.

You can't help your mind from going there, from wondering how different things could have been. What it would be like if you had met me in a bar instead of him entering your suite, leaving the hallway behind him looking like a slaughterhouse. Maybe he would have laughed at your jokes, in the dim light of your favorite bar in the city. Maybe he would have liked the same music as you do. Maybe, just maybe, he would have brought you home only to stay the night and fuck you until you would have lost your goddamn mind.

Your hand wanders down your body, strokes your waist and hip in the process, before it languidly drops between your spread legs, two fingers darting out and rubbing circles over your sensitive clit.

John moves quickly, his usual deadly precision shattering your peaceful fantasy, his hand ditching your thigh and closing in around your waist. "Don't you fuckin' touch yourself", he growls, and it's the first time you hear real, actual emotion dwelling in his throat - not his toneless, cold and mechanical rumble. He sounds pissed. Offended.

And the best part is: it seems to get him fucking going.

John leans in, your calf still resting on his shoulder and the slight pain of the stretch is delicious as he nearly folds your body in half. You can feel his dick sliding in even deeper into your hole and you gasp and whine, one hand coming up to dig into his biceps to just hold on. Hold on, while he pounds into you with perfectly angled, deep and strong thrusts, hitting your g-spot with every single one of them.

You know that the suite's door is in shambles, that anyone could walk in here and see you having your brains fucked out by the man who is here to kill you - but you don't care. Part of it is, because the gun is still resting next to your head on the sheets. You could just grab it and shoot anyone dead in heartbeat, whoever is trying to disturb the pleasure that shoots through your body.

But it is also him.

It's the way John is towering over you, back hunched, looking all wide and powerful and deadly, with the way he shields your body from view and harm as he thrusts into you. As he pushes all his rage, adrenaline, and strength into your tight hole, groans, and pants into your ear.

There is nothing you can do, despite holding onto him, nails digging into his back, clutching his broad shoulders, fingers running over his tattoos desperately. He is fucking the living daylight out of you, your body moving like a ragdoll underneath the mountain of muscles and strength. Your cunt is being split open by his cock, as you feel him hammering into you and you feel like you are going to lose your mind, panting and moaning with each of his thrusts.

"John, fuck", you moan sweetly, eyes rolling into your skull as he pounds into you, "You feel so fucking good, shit --"

"Yeah", he huffs, his forehead slowly sinking onto yours, "You too, baby."

You can see his eyelids fluttering, feel his upper body heaving beneath your hands, smell the blood on his skin, mingling with his musky scent. Blaming it on the sickening cocktail of hormones that is flooding both - your brain and your body - you lean in, your lips desperately smacking against his.

And Jesus Fucking Christ. Does John kiss you.

Kisses you like he is starving for it, licking back into your mouth - his body pressing yours into the mattress with his whole weight and muscle, while still thrusting into you.

Your hands tangle into his hair, tugging at it. John moans against your lips and your stomach flutters at the sound, and you want more. One hand moves to lay at the crook of his neck and your tongue presses against his, licking back into his mouth. Adding some force to his neck you invite John deeper into the kiss, and he follows suite, steals you the last bit of air your lungs were holding. Panting you part from him, thumb brushing over the crook of his neck.

Greedily breathing against his lips, you can't help yourself. You feel so alive and you want him to wreck you, to leave something behind that you will remember for every day your heart continues to beat. Greedily breathing against his lips, you can't help yourself but to whisper: "Harder."

John blinks, hips stuttering. And then, he grunts. His hand digs into your waist as he grabs you there, hold you in place will his hips rut into you. Picking up a near brutal rhythm, obscene sounds of your slick being pushed in and out and in out of your hole as he jackhammers into your g-spot, the bedframe rattling as John's thrusts pound it into the wall - leaving you a gasping and moaning mess. His belt clinks with his thrusts and you cling onto him, sharp whines escaping your throat.

"John John John", his name leaves your mouth like a mantra, sharp and high-pitched. His head falls forward, dark locks brushing over your cheek as his temple rests against yours and then you hear it.

John moans.

It's a deep, carnal sound. Your stomach flutters and lust shoots through your body at the noise, your tight cunt squeezing his thick cock as you squirt around his cock like a broken fucking hose, wetting his pubic hair. You can feel it rubbing along your wet folds, the sensation making you mewl, leaves your hips shuddering.

"Shit", you breathe, hands cradling his muscular back and then you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, accompanied by yet another one of his sweet, sweet moans, "Fuck, John--"

He raises his head and your gazes connect, before he leans in, presses his lips onto yours once more. The kiss is surprisingly soft and in stark contrast to the way he ruts and pounds into you and then he hits the spot once more and -

Everything goes white as your muscles clench and unclench suddenly, as you nearly scream against his lips; your hole practically milking his cock as you cum, pussy gushing and squirting around him like a broken hose.

John continues to fuck you through your orgasm and his heavy breathing reaches your ears through the cotton candy, that slowly wraps you in as everything turns light and bright. He moans deeply against your cheek as he comes, too - shoots hot ropes of cum into you and paints your walls with it.

His movements still as he buries himself deep into you, cock twitching with each thick rope of his cum and you can feel him fill you up, as his massive frame slowly sinks down onto you.

Your legs grow heavy and the stretch of your left leg is turning painful and you - a little clumsily - pull it away from his shoulder, stretch it out. Your limbs start to shake and you close your eyes, drawing in deep breaths through your nose.

The room is silent, the air heavy with the musky scent of sex.

Your chest still heaves with the remains of your orgasm, bliss still spreading in your brain and your veins, making you feel like you are flying. Your heart is still racing, as you feel him moving again.

Blinking up at him, you can see him grabbing the gun.

"Don't", you say softly, voice coarse from screaming your lungs out in pleasure just moments ago, "Please, don't." You are not ready to scream yet again. Not ready to scream in pain, instead of pleasure.

John does not reply. He pulls the hammer back, checks the chamber - all with one hand.

"Kill him instead, please."

He freezes, eyes locking with yours. "Who?", he sounds just as exhausted as you. The wolf, tired out. The deer, bleeding, limping.

Call it Post Nut Clarity, call it Finally Taking Your Future In Your Own Hands, call it Emancipating Yourself. Call it Having Wrapped A Deadly Assassin Around Your Pinky.

You were not safer here. You never were. Just more isolated. Easier to locate.

Easier to kill.

Realization hits you like a blow to the head, your vision swimming.

See? I will not die today.

"My father. Kill him."

#i'm back girlies #john wick smut #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #smut #my writing #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves smut

[absolutebl]

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers. 

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying. 

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now. 

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.  

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him. 

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants? 

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you. 

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

 Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e!  Also sometimes switch-ee 

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch! 

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan. 

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting. 

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

#pit babe the series #pit babe #thai bl #abl trash watches bl #Pavel Naret Promphaopun #pavel phoom #trash watch #2023 bl #currently airing bl #watch along #Nut Supanut #Pon Thanapon #พิษเบ๊บ

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 1 - Creation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

This is my first-time writing fanfic but I literally cannot get the stories out of my brain so…why not make everyone else suffer. This is part one of a story I’ve been rolling around some time. I feel setting a good foundation for the reader/main character is super important, so I PROMISE this story gets better. Be prepared for the usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness (Lucifer), fluff, eventual smut (yes horny readers bear with me we need some plot), and of course 18+ because….it’s Hazbin what do you expect?

Summary: f!reader finds themselves in Hell. Unable to accept your horrible fate you make it a point to continue being a bright soul surrounded by the darkness of Hell. With some higher advice, you create a list of rules to live. A short list to keep out danger and continue helping the lower sinners of Pentagram City. It’s the ONLY way you can survive (right?). Your list begins to crumble when you start helping Lucifer’s daughter with some hotel and a dream to redeem the same sinners you want to protect.

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

1.5k Words

Part One (You're on it!) Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Seven.A

Rumor was all sinners would spawn in hell with attributes related to their life and (untimely) death. Your gift power was proof of that.

“Everyone get inside! Come on before the exorcists see you.” You hurry the last of the smaller sinners inside a building. It kills you to see such fear from the souls. “Lock the door. I'll lure them away.”

How foolish you were. Somehow a heart of gold followed you to these depths after death...ironic how even the nicest people end up in hell. God really does have his favorites I suppose.

But that foolishness led you to the best thing to happen to you, so you thought. Dodging through the streets, maneuvering, anything to lead the "angels" away from even the worst of sinners. Cursing praying for their safety. It was only your second extermination, but you already caught onto their game. It was all too easy to get around their sloppiness. Needing a breather, you weave around some cars and dive behind a dumpster. Idiots can't even keep track of my thickass? Pathetic!

A few moments pass as it grows quiet. Your breath begins to steady when the softest whimper catches your attention. As quietly (and non-threatening) as possible, you turn the corner to approach a crying dark mass curled on the ground. Seeing their blood pooling sends your stomach into flips. Not another one. Fearing the worst you gently reach out. “Hey hey...shhh..." you utter, feeling her wince ever so slightly. "No don't panic I'm here to help. Where are you hurt?"

The young girl slowly uncrumples herself to show her wound...a massive "X" sliced hips to neck. It was so deep you couldn't believe she was still breathing let alone even moving. Fuck she's lost too much blood. "Come here let me try to stop the bleeding" you lied. You knew she had no chance. But your chest hurt at the thought of her dying (again) alone in some shit alley. With the last of her strength she curled into you, her white hair tickling your face. She had her textured locks pulled back tightly and black horns accenting the top of her head. Her tired red eyes relaxed, slowly closing as she leaned into you. Such a beautiful girl falling to such a terrible fate. With one hand on part of her wound, you used your other to softly stroke her head. “I'm so sorry young one...just breathe in and know you're not alone.” As her breathing shallows you gently kiss her forehead, bidding her soul a gentle goodbye.

The second your lips touch her skin, pure fire floods through your veins. Every nerve in your body feeling ripped apart. You spasm from the pain, clenching onto the girls now limp body. Just when the pain starts misting your vision you see flashes of...pink? "What the fuck!!" You grit through your teeth. What felt like hours of pain was merely a few seconds and it quickly dissipated from your body as did the pink light. Shit shit shit, there’s no way the exorcist didn’t hear OR SEE that! You stay perfectly still...listening to the silence with your mind reeling over what just happened.

A gasp breaks the deafening silence, pulling you back to reality. The young girl jolted out of your arms, gasping in as much air as she could. Looking down you notice her wounds were gone, only dry blood and tattered cloth remained from the laceration. You look at each other in panic and shock.

After inspecting her stomach she snaps out of her daze, remembering you two were still not safe.

"It's too dangerous to stay out here. Come with me - we aren’t far from the safehouse. I am sure my mother will want to meet you."

You follow without hesitation. Trust has always been a weakness. As you make your way through the city, she explains how she was out collecting angelic weapons with her sister when they got separated. After getting cornered she just accepted her fate...then you found her. "The name is Clara by the way. Clara Carmine. I usually just go by CC though."

You never intended to get into the Overlord game. You were merely trying to make the best, quiet life in hell if that was even possible. Guess things change when you save the daughter of Hells most prestigious Overlord. Who could say no to being taken in and protected by THE Carmilla Carmine.

Carmilla immediately began preparing you after hearing of the power you possessed. The power to heal with touch...of course it’s not that easy…it required pure intensions, coming from a place of love. Who the hell (pun intended) wrote this cruel joke for a sinner? How did the lowest of low get given such power just a few short years after arriving? It was your most precious secret. It had to be. If anyone of ill will found out - and come on, it's Hell - your soul would have been the most sought after in the pride ring. You wouldn’t last a day. Carmilla was indebted to you for saving Clara, so she made a deal to give you protection and mentorship as repayment. The first of many deals you’d make in Hell, growing the power you held.

In the years you've been under Carmilla's watch, you created a short list of rules to keep yourself out of harm’s way -

1. Never trust another Overlord

2. Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have

3. Never bring anyone too close

4. Never let your weaknesses show

It was a simple enough list that had worked for you so far.

You chose to make deals with those who needed protection or help while navigating the dangerous afterlife. In your deals each soul was bound to secrecy as to who you were and what you provided. Contract details and fine print were your specialty. Your soul count was the highest Carmilla had ever seen for someone so new, so merciful. She would often mention only one other sinner ever rose the ranks as quick though his methods were…less than savory. She never bothered to say who. Every Overlord meeting the rumors spread of some "Saving Grace" sinner making their way into powerful ranks. A shadow giving vile hope. But just as quick as those rumors appeared - they were put to rest when no new faces ever appeared. Of course you were there - you needed to attend for information just as much as the next guy, but you never sat as an Overlord. Carmilla granted you a place off to the side as "the help" to serve tea or make notes as needed. No one ever batted an eye to someone considered just a worker bee in Carmilla's hive.

Every meeting was the same, though it seemed unease was rising after each extermination. Six years had passed since you fell into this hellhole (har har). Another extermination, another meeting. Sitting in your designated corner, you twirl your pen as the Overlords began taking their seats. Might as well be invisible - but you preferred it that way. As your mind slightly wonders to less important things, the quiet buzz of conversations around you fades away from your ears.

"—yes I know I’ve been absent some time. I'm sure you've ALL been wondering!"

Your attention snaps back with the sound of this charming new voice. The demon was dressed to the nines - red suit jacket, gloves, freshly pressed slacks. Your already preoccupied mind raced. Who the hell is that? Where has he been? Why does he have that shit eating grin?

He must hold some power to be sitting here after all these years…

"Not really. But welcome back in any case."

That dismissal from Camilla was enough for you to put aside any questions you had of the demon. You knew this meeting would be tense. Can't afford distractions when you needed to be all ears. As you began writing you felt something in the pit of your stomach. Was someone staring at you? You try to shake the feeling when Velvette made her grand entrance. With a sigh and eye roll you set aside your notebook. God damn this woman, no respect, no couth. Gonna be a long one today.

The sinking feeling returns, this time you catch the culprit. The (new to you) demon Overlord is staring at you as if you’re the only one in the room. You make eye contact hoping he moves his gaze, but it only fuels the intensity on you. That smile never faltering. Your ears ring and static pricks your ear drums. Can I fuckin help you sir? Wait no, you're just the help. Lower sinners would never even dream of speaking to an Overlord like such. Thankfully the eye contact breaks when Velvette tosses the head of an exorcist on the table.

Ah I suppose this will be quite a fascinating meeting…

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #fanfic #hazbin hotel fandom #hotel hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin fandom #hazbinhotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #x reader #reader insert #fem reader #slow burn #hazbin hotel lucifer #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla

[displ3azant]

(Before cut is In-Character.)

Hiii! Helloooo!

Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.

So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.

Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.

Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.

BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇

(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)

To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.

And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.

Blog-Context

So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...

I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!

MAIN TAGS:

#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks

#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar

#ooc - Out-of-character post

OTHER TAGS (to be updated):

(nothing yet, hehe)

Blog-Owner

So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!

I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.

Ask/RP-Boundaries

Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.

ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.

Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, I guess. Not exactly the direction I want to take things, though some storylines will involved implied ships. Don't push anything that isn't hinted at, and under no circumstances encourage proshipping or any kind of illegal pairing. If a ship is hinted toward that you personally do not like, then just block me and move on with your day.

Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.

Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,

PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!

That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe

Lots of love, - Hex

#unpl3zansw3rz #unpl3zrambl3z #ic #ooc #ask blog #regretevator unpleasant #regretevator ask blog #regretevator infected #unpleasant gradient

[fuck-customers]

Why have customers decided that their shopping experience is no longer their own responsibility and they can just have us do literally everything for them?? Like whyyyyy is there not a single molecule of thought or effort put in from their end!!?? Examples:

- Googling the phone number of our store to call and ask what time we open/close (the opening hours are right under the phone number, including clearly labelled public holiday hours)

- Phoning our store or asking in person for information about another store in the chain (their hours, address, stock availability etc.) When they could easily google it or call THAT store

- walking into the store and asking the first person they see for help without even looking around first. Especially when they walk past the thing they're looking for on their way to an employee.

- not being able to find their way with pointing and verbal directions, needing to be walked over to and handed everything even when it's right in front of them and I'm pointing to it. Also the people that ask where the exit is when our store is laid out in a big square with a huge middle walkway and if you keep walking around in either direction you will reach the exit.

- asking questions that have nothing to do with me, information on other stores in the complex, asking for directions, asking touristy questions... Where's a good place to eat around here? How about the dumpster behind the store? fuck off

- wanting to start a new project or hobby and coming in without doing ANY research on it and what they might need to purchase and expecting us to give them a free class like we have the time/training for that sort of thing. YOUTUBE IS FREE. GOOGLE IS FREE. FACEBOOK HOBBY GROUPS ARE FREE. This goes triple for the Cricut ladies, if you are going to drop 300 dollars on a craft machine please learn how to use it. One lady asked me if her cricut could cut a certain cardstock and got mad when I said I'd never used one and she should check the manual

- wanting personal opinions on what to buy. There's a difference between "what are the benefits of buying x over y?" and "which one do you like better?" like for one we sell thousands of different things, I haven't personally used them all and secondly my tastes, opinions and needs for a product could be totally different from yours. So pick the one YOU like plzzz, you're the one paying for it.

- wanting to purchase fabric and not doing their measurements or calculations beforehand. Like babe, only YOU know how much fabric you need. Next time someone asks how much they need to make a dress I'm saying 10 metres because I'm going to assume they're making a ball gown

Anyway, fuck these dumb, lazy sacks of shit, I have no idea how they managed to get this far in life without firing a single neuron.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[wonuwrites]

We Can't Be Friends Song Reaction

Inspired by Ariana Grande's song: "We Can't Be Friends (Wait For Your Love)

hyung line version. Maknae Line Version

Warning: This is angsty and sad af, slight cursing, mentions alcohol, Minghao's has an Ice Spice lyric reference, hate comments, Mingyu's is a bit suggestive so respectfully: Minors fuck off and don't interact LMFAO. tbh this is more angsty and emotional than the hyung line and I'm only partially sorry.

A/N: using a song lyric as a prompt for each of the members. Decided to break this up from Hyung Line (Seungcheol - Jihoon) to Maknae Line (Seokmin - Chan). I already did 95/96 Line now it's time for the youngins. Like the hyung version, The parts are written in order from where the song lyrics show up. I tried to do different lyrics from the hyung line xo I hope you enjoy.

✫ Seungkwan: "I don't wanna tiptoe, but I don't wanna hide. But I don't wanna feed this monstrous fire."

Neither of you ever wanted to admit how much of a dumpster fire Seungkwan and your relationship was becoming. However, it was. Day by day, it was becoming more and more clear your once perfect relationship was close to ending. You knew that Seungkwan wanted to make it work out and he truly thought it was just a bump in the road. However, you just knew it was time to end. Seungkwan and you were sat in his car in front of your house while the rain was pouring down and you just felt sick. You had called and told him that you wanted to talk but the words just wouldn't come out. You didn't want to hurt him but you also did not want to tiptoe and hide your true feelings anymore. With one look after an uncomfortable few minutes of silence, Seungkwan knew what was going on started to get teary eyed which made you teary eyed as well. "Kwannie, I'm so sorry but you know it's for the best. We had a good run." You managed to get out. Seungkwan did a shakey sigh before looking out the windsheild. "It was a great run, (Y/N), thank you for all the precious memories. I will always love you." "I will always love you too, thank you as well." After that, you braced yourself for the storm and for this next chapter of your new life. You opened the door and got out before running to your front door. You turned around as Seungkwan drove off and that was when you finally let go and finally broke down. You were so scared to enter this next chapter but you knew it was what you were supposed to do.

✫ Dino: "Wait until you like me again. Wait for your love."

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces as Chan stood in front of you with a defeated look on his face. He could have said anything, but telling you that he's realized he's starting to fall out of love with you was probably the most devastating thing he could have told you. "When? What? Why?" was all you could say while trying your best to stay strong. You thought you both were golden. "I don't know, all I know is I want to keep loving you but it's just hard to." "I'm hard to love?!" "I didn't mean it like that, (Y/N)." "Then how did you mean it Chan?" Your voice finally cracked and then you looked away so he could not see you cry which absolutely broke his heart. "I- I don't know but--" you then just sighed then walked past him toward the door and opened the door for him. "Well until you know, here's the door. I rather not waste my time with someone who only pretends to love me." He started to walk toward you to give you a hug but you put your hand out so he wouldn't be able to touch you. "Don't you dare complicate this. Just come back when you know what you want. I will wait for you to try to like me again but I don't want to be there while you figure it out."

✫ Minghao: "Know that you made me, I don't like how you paint me, yet I'm still here hanging."

"(Y/N) only dated Minghao for 15 seconds of fame." "(Y/N) thinks they are the shit for dating Minghao. They're barely a fart." "Minghao could've done WAY better. There is more attractive people and he chose (Y/N)? God I'm so happy he finally got a brain and dumped her gold digging ass." Normally hate comments made you laugh. When Minghao and you were together and saw hate comments you both would giggle at how much time they were wasting while you were both just living your life and being in love. However, now that Minghao and you are no longer together the hate comments hurt. What hurt is that after the breakup, Minghao and his company did nothing to stop the comments. You both had a pretty clean and fair breakup so the fact that they just let the comments attack you felt unfair. Your company tried everything in their power to stop the comments with threatening lawsuits, to mass deleting comments, to offering to manage your socials so you wouldn't have to read it. The offer was nice but when you were welcomed with boo's and slurs when you went to an event you couldn't help but try to put on a brave face but mentally curse Pledis and Minghao. Also yourself for even agreeing to date Xu Minghao to begin with. Life would've been so much more peaceful if you never even knew his name.

✫ Mingyu: "Not what you made me, it's something like a daydream. But I feel so seen in the night."

It was supposed to be a one night stand. However, Mingyu and you developed an emotional non committed relationship and it was pretty nice. A little too nice. You knew it was a dangerous game to get this involved but you couldn't help it. Something about Kim Mingyu was so addicting. He was the best drug you could be addicted too. The way he made you feel so seen on your nightly adventures. That's why it hurt a little bit when you saw him out and about and he ignored you. As if you were only good enough for a fuck but not for a casual 'hello' in the daytime. It broke you when he came over two nights after the incident and he scoffed at your hurt. He had assumed you knew what this was. "Is this not enough, sweetheart?" no. No it was not. However, you couldn't bring yourself to admit it to him so at that moment you realized if you wanted anything to do with Mingyu, you had to play by his rules. No matter how bad it hurt.

✫ Vernon: "So for now, it's only me. And maybe that's all I need."

Hansol and you were so codependent for your whole relationship. You were with each other every second. You didn't have to talk, just being in each others presence was enough. Or so it was. One day, you both just grew apart. He started getting busy with Seventeen and you started getting more and more projects at work. The distance was affecting both of you but you both were too scared to say anything. That's when the fight happened and both of you wished you said something sooner because maybe... just maybe you both would be in each other's arms or sending each other cursed TikToks that plagued your FYP. However, neither of you did and you both were just too damn stubborn to say something. After suffering for what seemed like an eternity, you decided to try to explore independence a bit more. You took a much needed shower, and started to curl your hair and put on some makeup. As you were getting dolled up you did some daily affirmations. The more you told yourself, the more confident you were becoming. Maybe being solo for awhile was a good thing.

✫ DK: "My love, I'll wait for your love. I'll wait for your love."

Seokmin woke up in a cold sweat and looked around. He saw he was in an empty bed and the nightmare he had of losing you was way too realistic. He quickly stood up and called out your name but heard nothing back. His heart was racing when he heard the silence. Where were you? He rubbed his eyes and and looked around the room a bit more and that's when he remembered he was in a hotel room for a schedule. He sighed before laying back in bed and grabbing his phone. He squinted as the light hit his face and couldn't help but get teary eyed as he saw your smiling face smiling back at him. He loved you more than words could say. He said it constantly but that still didn't mean that you both weren't going through a rough patch. He didn't leave on the best conditions with you before he left and regretted it. Instinctively, he dialed your number and pressed the phone to his ear. He just needed to hear your voice. "Hey baby!" He heard your voice say which made him tear up even more. "Hi," he whispered while smiling. "Seokmin? Baby, are you okay?" A tear fell down his cheek as he heard the pet name for the second time and his fears were calmed a bit. "Seokmin?" "Oh yeah... Sorry I- I um, I'm sorry." "It's okay, baby... what's going on though?" He sighed before sitting up and telling you about his nightmare and how he just loves you so fucking much. This made you lean against the wall as you listened to him explain his fears and your heart broke at his anxiety. Sure when he left it was rough but that's relationships. Relationships aren't all sunshine and rainbows all the time. When you explained that you heard him sniffle which made you tear up. "Thank you, baby." He whispered. "Of course, love. I'll wait for you to come home. Five more days right?" "Yes, just Five more days." "I'll wait for your love, my love. I love you always." "I love you, always."

ღ

A/N: whoops I accidentally wrote a novel for Seokmin's. Pls don't hate me lmaooo

#wonuwrites #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen reactions #svt angst #we cant be friends #ariana grande #Dokyeom #Mingyu #Minghao #seungkwan #vernon #dino #dk reaction #mingyu reaction #minghao reaction #seungkwan reaction #vernon reaction #dino reaction

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I completely agree with you about the casting for Abby. She'd be perfect for flashback and young Abby. Nothing against the actress, but Naughty Dog could have done better.

Every single day I have to swallow down opinions about HBO's The Last of Us because I am tired and don't have the mental energy to organize a full length essay explaining what a horrible adaptation (and independent show aside from being an adaption) the fucking thing was.

Like - the characters clothes all looking brand new even though they're supposed to be in a 20 year long apocalypse, the endless product placement taking up space where sweet character building moments were, Joel's entire character arc being fucked to the point where he is cold and rejecting toward Ellie more than halfway through the story (and for more than half the story, it seems like they don't even like each other because they missed so many key moments), casually adding in the theme of disability euthanasia, the seasons being way tf off even though seasons is a central important theme of the game, them adding physical conflicts between Ellie and Joel when he never used physical violence as a way to communicate with her in the game (ever), Joel trauma dumping on Ellie that he failed at killing himself and she's basically the reason he's 'okay' now (when in the game, she had to beg and pry to get him to open up about himself. big yikes).

The show is a whole ass dumpster fire.

But yeah - she is not a good choice for casting, and I really hope that they only intend her to be younger Abby in the flashbacks. Otherwise, idk what they're gonna do. Even something I forgot to mention in that original post - Abby and Lev's relationship is supposed to parallel Joel and Ellie's relationship from the first game. If Abby is very petite and very young looking, then the Abby and Lev dynamic will not have the same impact as it did in the game. It will not come off as an adult taking care of a child (as it is supposed to, as it's supposed to parallel Joel and Ellie) - it will come off as two young people struggling together, and it just won't work.

Especially because one of the most important moments is - Abby carrying Lev down the beach after Ellie unintentionally freed them from the Rattlers, and even if it's unspoken, it's very clear that Ellie sees herself and Joel in those moments - and that is why she targets Lev in order to provoke Abby into a fight. Because she knows that one of the only ways to provoke a tired, broken down, exhausted Joel into a fight would have been someone threatening her life. And if Abby is some tiny, petite little girl instead of her usual towering self - those moments will not have the same impact. At All.

Anyway - people who like the show probably haven't had any proper contact with the games to know how good they are, or they are just thirsting over Pedro Pascal. idk. season two is bound to be a dumpster fire as well

also, okay - with the casting for Abby, I feel like somebody has to talk about Abby vs conventional attractiveness. because when TLOU2 first came out, there was the endless flood of 'Abby is a man' comments about her muscles, and I feel like the producers of the show are just downright cowards for not casting someone thick and muscled to play Abby in the show because it is an important part of her character, and because - it's giving in to all the backlash about her looks from the game.

casting someone petite and thin - someone who is very conventionally attractive - is a very cowardly move. because Abby is not supposed to be a conventionally attractive woman. she is supposed to be a brute, scary woman with a surprising soft side. (and I know, the lesbians are gonna be flooding my comments being like "I think Abby is attractive!!" but I am talking about attractiveness in terms of typical Hollywood casting.) it is just stupid not to cast her accurately to avoid backlash or because you think the character suddenly needs a makeover according to Reddit fanboys

like wtf

#anonymous #sundrop answers #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us season 2 #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou2 #discussion

[genericpuff]

in reference to the have you read LO poll by god have I tried but god. God...

A vicious cycle. I go okay I really do need to plow through more of it if I'm gonna hang around the ULO reddit, and then I step on the comically placed rake. I can't do a complete skip thing bc I'll be too disorientated on where I'm at in the plot but my brain only tolerates it up until she declares she's missing her dick appointment and like, girl. Please. You committed mass murder (if not genocide) and this is a slap on the wrist considering, let alone that your moms got the worse end of the deal.

Why it's that specific moment idk but the bottom just drops out for me and it's soooo fucking stupid because like, she couldn't have just... bitched about being stuck with hard labor? That's the bitchy shit I'd sort of expect from a privileged nepo baby and even barring the twue wuv story going on it's her actual biggest issue going on right then. What she's presently living out. But yeah no, horny, we gotta establish that she's horny. Okay.

Sorry about the borderline vent over it there's just enough really interesting thoughts mixed up in the pile of flaming garbage to make one go rabid if they stew on it, and you clearly get that given the rewrite. Have a good day.

omg i've had that exact sort of thing happen with me before too tho, not in quite the exact same sense of like, "wanting to take part in a community but struggling to get through the source material it's based on", but there are like, so many webtoons and manga and stories I've tried to read - after being urged to by pals and people who read them - that I've dropped after multiple attempts of trying to read them. And they're not necessarily dumpster fires like LO (though some of them definitely aren't great) it's more like I'm sitting there wondering "when's this gonna get good? when's this gonna be worth all the hype?" Tower of God is the biggest one that comes to mind, I have tried to read that webtoon on SEVERAL occasions and I just can't justify trudging through all those early episodes for it to maybe "get good". And that's not even me saying it's bad, it's just not interesting to me in the slightest. No hate to anyone who likes ToG, I think I've also sorta drifted away from shonen over the years so that's definitely not helping, but I just can't be bothered to try and read that webtoon anymore, I've given it so many attempts and I'm doing lmao Kudos to the creator though because it's a LOT of work to make a webtoon of that length and they should be proud of that.

Back on the topic of LO though, yeah, I was following the comic when that episode was still brand new and it really made us all go 🤨 because of how out-of-pocket it was. And then like an episode (or two?) later she bullied a former classmate of hers from 10 years ago at his job. That was the precedent for Persephone's character that was set for the third season of LO and it's just gotten worse as it's gone on.

Either way, if I'm being honest, you're really not missing much by skipping over the majority of S3 (like, if you made it to the dick appointment episode before giving up then you're already pretty close to the current point in the story). Like I'm not gonna lie, you could easily skip up to the midseason cutoff point because everything leading up to that is just a bunch of nothing. Hades and Persephone get married and it's the most underwhelming scene ever despite it being the moment people had been waiting years for, also they 'adopt' Dionysus but he's barely in the comic except for when Rachel remembers he's a character so you could also get by on minimal details. Oh yeah, and it turns out Demeter had a kid during the 10 year time skip who we see in like two episodes and then proceeds to get fridged forever.

So yeah, as much as I'd recommend people read LO as a sort of "entry ticket" into the crit community surrounding it, S3 is a lot of nothing and you would frankly not miss out on a thing if you skimmed it or skipped the middle portion of it entirely lmao

#so much of S3 of LO is that scene from austin powers #“you're not missing anything i looked into it” #“there's a gas shortage and a flock of seagulls” #“that's about it” #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

[primalmagic]

stars in the noon sky

linh's coming over, marella's room is a mess, and she's just a little bit stressed about her mom.

──────────

Marella tightens the red bow in her hair for the one millionth time, humming softly to her favorite song. It'd been playing on repeat for an hour now, but she hadn't been paying attention- her mind was occupied with... something else.

Finally satisfied with how she looks, she closes a cabinet door. As she wipes a suspicious stain off of her mirror, a sharp knock echoes across the bathroom walls.

"Marella, darling, what have you been doing in the bathroom for so long?" Caprise's clipped and unfocused voice floats through the door.

Fuck.

"Nothing, Mom! Do you need anything?"

"I want to take a bath."

"You alright took two baths today," she frowns, nearing the door.

"I want to take a bath," Her mother repeats stubbornly.

She unlocks the door and lets her mother in. It was one of her mom's good days anyway, and the last thing she wants to do is make things worse. See, ever since she had manifested and started throwing fireballs everywhere, something had shifted between the two of them. Because yes, she'd stood up for Marella, but now she was more... skittish around her. Maybe she was reading into it too much, but it made her feel sick. It wasn't her fault she was a pyrokinetic.

"Just be out by the time Linh comes, okay? I'll see you then." She kisses her mother's cheek and leaves the bathroom, ignoring the confused look on Caprise's face- she either forgot Linh was coming over, or forgot who Linh was.

She spends the next two hours tidying up her room, which was saying something, because Marella Redek absolutely hates cleaning up her room. It isn't just a chore, it's absolute torture. Plus, it's not like anyone has ever bothered to remind her to clean it. Her dad barely interacts with her anymore, and her mom... well, her mom was her mom. So, after months of throwing things around, her room was beginning to look like a dumpster fire.

She isn't proud of it, and she's damned if she'd ever let Linh come over to this sort of mess. So now, for the first time in forever, she's cleaning up.

And look, she's nervous. Linh is, well, amazing. She's kind, and talented, and funny, and all the things Marella has ever wanted to be. Plus, she's gorgeous. And not just in looks- but in action. Watching her around water was one of the most fascinating things Marella has ever witnessed. She was elegant, and graceful, and-

"Marella?"

She looks up from the ground, hands on a textbook from years ago. "Oh, hi Linh," She manages weakly, "I was just... studying?" She gestures towards the book in a rather awkward manner.

And Linh, ever the sweetest, smiles at her and asks "Anything I can help with?"

"No, uh, I was just finishing up. Sorry." She thrusts the book into a nearby closet and stands up. Idly, she looks at Linh, only then realizing that damn, when had she grown this tall?

Marella has always been taller than her, it was a fact. One that she'd tease the older girl about relentlessly. Now they are practically eye-level, and she doesn't really know what to feel about that.

Linh blinks, "What?"

For the love of mallowmelt, she'd been staring, hadn't she?

"Nothing, I just realized that we're almost the same height," She frowns, "It's a pity. I won't be able to see your hair anymore."

Linh scoffs, "You'll see my face. Isn't that better?"

"Yeah," She looks her in the eyes, smiling slightly, "It kind of is."

That didn't seem like the response she'd been expecting, and Linh turns a light shade of pink and looks away. "Anyway... uh, your mom let me in and said there were cookies in the oven, want to go grab them?"

At the mention of her mom, her smile dims slightly. She walks past Linh and grabs her hand, dragging her down to the kitchen.

The cookies are not in the oven, in fact. They are sitting unbaked upon the kitchen counter.

Linh frowns, "Oh well, we can put them inside, and come back later?"

At that, Marella giggles. "I know it's really easy to forgot, but I'm a pyrokinetic, darling. I'm like, a living, breathing, oven. Except I get things done a hundred times faster." She waves her hands around dramatically as if it emphasizes the point.

"Oops," Linh laughs, "Sorry?"

Marella watches her hand, willing the smallest spark to answer her call. A tiny flame begins to lick her hand, swelling and waving as it hits the air. She puts the cookie tray on top of her hand and watches as the cookies slowly turn harder and form a clear shape.

"Damn." She hears Linh mutter.

"What?" Had she done something wrong?

"I don't think I could ever get used to you doing that."

Unease curls in the bottom of her stomach, fear pulsating and whispering in her head. She hates you. She hates your fire. You're an idiot. Fuck, you're such an idiot.

Linh's eyes widen, "Shoot, that came out wrong. I mean, like, it's really beautiful. The flames, and the way you control them. It's- it's really cool."

Marella stands there a while, partially in shock and partially basking in the warmth of her friend's words.

"Marella?"

"Marella?? You alright?"

She blinks, then sees Linh point at her hand. The cookies, now a harsh charcoal black, lay in ashes upon the slightly-bent tray. Flames dance upon the edges, high enough to reach her face.

"Sorry," She mumbles, "Sorry. Somehow my fire ends up messing everything up."

"I don't blame you," the older girl shrugs, and after a moment, adds: "Or your fire."

She wills out a large droplet of water and plops! it on top of the still-burning cookie tray. She looks up and grins, "There you go! Problem solved."

"Thanks," Marella laughs lightly, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Linh nods, "I take my job of being the only one that can put you out very seriously."

"You mean, put my fire out." Marella snorts.

"No, I mean you. You and your fire aren't different people. It's your ability, and a part of who you are." Linh looks at her curiously, "Why do you always act like it's on its own?"

It's not accusatory, but it causes the blond to look away. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," She steps closer to Marella, "Are you alright?"

The truth spills out of her before she can remember to keep her mouth shut. "My mom does it, a lot."

"Does what?"

"She's a flasher. Whenever you ask her to use her ability or just... do something, she'll always just frown and say her light 'doesn't want too'. It's... I think I know why she does it, honestly. It's so much easier to pretend that it's not my fault that my ability did something wrong. Especially when everyone's so goddamn set on calling me the villain because I'm not Talentless, but somehow, I'm ten fucking times worse!" She yells, not sure what the hell she's doing anymore. But she's started, and she's definitely not done.

"And my mom... they say she's getting better. They say she's learning and she's going to be okay but I know her, and I know she's not. And it sucks, because I love her, and I need her, but maybe I'm wrong and I don't know who she even is anymore. I'm constantly walking on broken glass around her now. It's like- it's like, before we would be able to do things together and now... now it's like we have nothing in common at all."

Linh interrupts, looking at Marella with an expression she can't quite pinpoint, "You have her freckles."

"Sorry?"

"You have your mom's freckles. They aren't super noticeable but they're still there. One right next to your nose and the others on your cheek. Your mom has them in the same places. Not that it matters or anything, but uh, you know, just an observation." She mumbles, turning away.

"Oh." Marella blinks, willing her blush to go away. "You've got a good eye for details."

She shrugs, "Not really? It's just, easy, when it comes to you, I guess?"

"How come?"

"They're like stars," She leans on the countertop and looks up at Marella, "Like the really small ones you can only see during the dead of night. The ones that have always been there, but you just don't notice 'cause you haven't been looking close enough."

Marella opens her mouth to speak, but closes it when she realizes Linh isn't done.

"They're like stars in the midnight sky. But you're not midnight, you're the freaking sun. Stars in the morning sky? What's the opposite of midnight?" She frowns and scrunches her eyebrows (it's not cute, Marella thinks).

"...Noon?" She supplies.

Linh snorts, "Sure, noon. Stars in the noon sky."

"My freckles... are the stars in the noon sky." She blinks again, because she doesn't really know how to reply like that.

"Yep!" She laughs.

The silence that follows isn't awkward, but it's not quite comfortable either. Marella grasps for something to say, and eventually speaks.

"Hey, Linh?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a really awesome friend."

She beams, "Thank you!"

"Want to go grab mallowmelt?"

Linh's smile never disappears, "How could I ever say no to that?"

#marelinh #FireHydrant #marellinh #linhella #marella redek #kotlc #kotlc fic #keeper of the lost cities #fanfiction #queer #sfw #lesbian #they are in love #but they don't know it #</3 #kotlc fandom #linh song #kotlc marella #kotlc linh #fire hydrant #lgbtq+ #wlw fanfiction #i hate editing sorry #caprise #fluff #please please please give me feedback !! #i have no written in three years and i am super rusty #this took me a solid three hours #if i messed up tense please lmk i hate doing that

[clever-fox-studios]

Two Weeks

A little thingy I started as a crossover of my Legacy AU and @garbagechocolate 's Truth Virus. I might continue as it's short and meant as pure angst, if that's desired; it'll go on AO3 if that's the case. It's not canon to my AU at all, but it does have Legacy-canon-compliant information that may or may not be relevant when the time comes~

Content below the cut:

Overhead lights hummed, casting dirty yellow-white light across cement, tile and metal rebar and pipes, trying and failing to make the dirty underground service bay seem somewhat sterile but only managing to pick out every crack and spot of dirt in grimy, perfect detail. Normally, Parts & Service was busy and filled to the brim with techs and programmers looking for something to do during the day, but at this moment only two could be found operating the repair pod, the others long gone on daily tasks of some sort or hiding out of camera view to catch a smoke or pilfer uncollected fries from the warmers. Fingers drummed the service pod keyboard lightly–click-clack-clack–but never enough to press a key by accident. That was what rookies did. Contrary to the opinion of corporate, they were not rookies. They were not paid like rookies, and yet…

Yet.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just wait for Phil?”

Balling a fist, the older technician slammed his fist into the desk, avoiding the keyboard altogether but still startling his coworker into biting his own cheek with fright.

“Owowow–”

He gave the younger worker a hard look, stilling their whining so he could speak, sharp and firm as a stroke of a key on the computer. “It’s a fucking patch for the new system they wanted the jester thing to test run.”

This was true.

“It’s from the server at fucking corporate, so it’s gotta be legit, right?”

This was also true.

“We shouldn’t have to wait for Mr. Espresso For Dinner to supervise us every fucking time the talking pipecleaner needs a spit shine”

Nervously, the younger technician nodded, then shook his head. “But Phil–” He stopped for a moment. “Mr. Mercer was extremely clear about us being careful with the theater unit after the–”

“I. Don’t. Care,” the older man cut in, face creased with angry lines and graying brown hair. “I’ve been working here almost as long as that junkrat in a trenchcoat. Just because he’s Reed’s favorite little dumpster fire he gets the head IT position, but I’m just as capable of working on the attendant as he is. I’m not a fucking rookie–no offense.”

“N-none… taken,” the younger man squeaked, unable to voice further concerns.

“Just get the fucking twink down here so I can get this done, will you?” With a sigh, the older man wheeled his chair to the desk and began to prepare the file for processing, grumbling under his breath. “It can’t be that hard to install a fucking patch for something that’s already in their system, it’s robotics, not fucking rocket science!”

~

“Let me guess.”

Sun fidgeted with his ray, fingertip flicking over the point rhythmically, eyes looking anywhere but into the acid-bright hazel eyes staring him down from behind unkempt brown-black hair.

“You didn’t stop them because Mason’s a jackwad and you didn’t want to cause more problems?”

Nodding, Sun’s fingers closed around the end of his ray tightly–a nervous reflex. Before he could do any real damage, a hand wrapped around his wrist, firm but not overbearing. It still got him to jump, gaze darting up in spite of himself to see the hazel gaze was less of a disappointed burning and more of a concerned flicker, one that knew well and good about his… ‘problematic’ tics that had been developing over the months.

“I’m not mad, Sun,” the man said, voice gentle as he slowly brought the jester’s hand down from his head. “Not at you two, anyway.”

Sun couldn’t help himself, the apologetic babble coming up before he could really stop it, “I’m so so so sorry, Phil! I know you’ve told us not to let them bully us, but the new employee was so nervous and we didn’t think it was a big deal, we just–”

Phil’s palms pressed into both of Sun’s cheeks, causing him to stop as the short human got his attention, face unchanging. “Sun,” he started, speaking slowly and firmly, “I. Am not. Mad. At you. Understand?”

Feeling his jaw quiver, Sun nodded; the hands left his face, turning to hold the man’s chin in thought as he finally broke eye contact. Quietly, Sun folded his own together at the fingers, trying desperately to contain the guilt he felt as he noticed the stirring in the back of his programming of Moon as the night unit tuned in from wherever it was he found himself during daylight hours.

“Is he mad?” the crackly voice inquired.

Sun knew only he could hear his brother but it didn’t offer any solace–it was upsetting, if nothing else. Wrong. Even after months, he still wasn’t used to it, finding himself turning to answer only to be met with an empty room. This time, though, he was acutely aware that Moon wasn’t there. That turning would net only a concerned gaze from their maker, Phil Mercer.

“Not at us,” Sun whispered back, aloud.

Phil’s gaze flicked to Sun at the sound, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t need to. Instead, Phil mumble, a bit loudly on purpose so they boys–the theater jesters both–would hear without needing to be direct, “That idiot can’t even set the time on a microwave without using wikihow. I could run diagnostics myself and see if it worked but Al’s already up my ass as it is and I don’t have time for a full sweep…” He sighed with exaggeration, folding his arms together.

Sun’s head was tilted curiously at the mutterings, his fingers fidgeting over each other rhythmically.

“Of course Mason picks this week to be a pain. The inconvenience can’t be helped.”

“We’re sorry–”

“Shush.” Rubbing the back of his head and neck, Phil came to a decision–he only hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite them all later. “How’s daycare duty treating you both? Any issues outside of the whole ‘Moon didn’t switch from theater to nap time’ thing the patch was for?”

With a click and whirl of his rays, Sun smiled, glad for something good to talk about--relatively speaking. “Oh, it was lovely! The children are so much fun to interact with! Such wild imaginations!”

A half smile crept onto Phil’s face under his 5-o’clock shadow. “Moon? What about you?”

Sun waited as Moon spoke, relaying his answer precisely while switching the voice setting to the blue unit’s default. “It’s different trying to make the little ones sleep instead of cheer or laugh. Keeping them up by mistake was… odd. But I’ll learn.”

“Well,” Phil mused, “hopefully you find it easier now but I’ll be honest, I don’t trust that patch corporate sent–especially knowing Mason was the one to install it.”

“I don’t trust that guy as far as we can throw him,” Moon muttered, earning a snicker of agreement from Sun.

Catching this, Phil asked, “What's so funny?” still grinning.

Eyes wide, Sun stuttered, “N-nothing! Moon just–doesn’t like Mr. Mason!”

Knowing how this game went, Phil pressed, “So what did he say?”

“It’s not that funny, really!”

“Then why’d you laugh, Sunny D?”

With a raspy giggle, Moon kept on in the back of Sun's mind, “I saw him struggling once to change the input source on the TV in the P&S bay when he pulled a late shift.”

Sun’s voice cracked with disbelief. “What???”

“Let me in on the joke,” Phil begged dryly, giving the tall robot a playful elbow.

“No no–stop!” Sun laughed, rays spinning while Moon dropped more little things about the man named Mason and his prevalent skill issues; if he could cry he’d surely be in tears from laughing, between the snark of his brother and the amused ribbing of his friend on either side as Phil started piling on his own observations of the tech’s mishaps. “Please, this is so mean!”

“You’re feeling better though, right?”

The others stilled, giving Sun a chance to catch his breath so to speak. “I… am, yes.”

“Good.” Phil gave his back a pat. “So listen carefully, alright?” Sun nodded, feeling Moon’s presence close in as he leaned in to hear. “I’ve already got a bunch of things to go over and finish up for you guys for this new trial run they want you two to do. I’m going to work on my own fix for the default program issue but I can’t install it until I’m back.”

Sun’s rays retracted just a hair, giving off a series of clicks that gave away his sadness as he clamped his hands against them with embarrassment. “Ah!”

Phil’s brows raised in a sympathetic arc. “I know, I wouldn’t leave it be like this but Emilia’s…” Without meaning to, Phil’s voice trailed off for a moment, his mind going a thousand miles away briefly. “She’s having a rough trimester.”

“Oh no.” Carefully, Sun’s hands grazed Phil’s shoulders, attempting to comfort the man . “Of course, of course! You can take time for Mrs. Mercer as much as you need!”

Phil gave the lanky robot’s hand a grateful pat. “Appreciated, Sunny, but I still have a job to do. I’ll be home for two weeks and I’ll come back with all kinds of things to clean you up and make you the best daycare attendant those chucklefucks at corp–”

“Phil, language!” Sun blurted, catching both of them by surprise for a moment.

After a second of seeing Sun’s shocked face, rays retracting with embarrassment, Phil let out a deep laugh. “Well, it’s already working so that’s a relief!”

“Can we do that to all the adults?” Moon wondered quietly, a devious feeling creeping into Sun’s mind of how his brother wanted to abuse that feature for his own amusement. It was admittedly tempting with the way some of them talked.

Exhaling briskly, Phil got the pair’s attention before they could get caught up with mischief planning. “Do you think you two can handle me not being here for that long?”

“We should." Sun hoped saying it would give him some confidence in the idea.

“Can you promise me not to be too agreeable with the new guys and keep your butts out of P&S until I get back?”

That one would be harder. “W-we can try. The kids…” Images of the last few days flashed through Sun’s active mind–colorful paper, sliced apples, pillows soaring through the air–and glue.

So.

Much.

Glue.

“You are too new to this to have that look of ‘back in ‘Nam’ already, Sun.”

Sun blinked and came back to the present, grin shaken but not gone. “It was just a lot! Great, but a lot! We can handle it! The helpers are very good at keeping us ready to go!”

Moon mused, “Especially Nana,” which made Sun’s smile change from nervous grin to gentle curve at the mention of the older woman with curly, gray hair and too many bracelets that insisted on everyone, even the staff, calling her ‘nana’ or ‘granny’ despite none of the kids in the daycare being her family by blood.

Phil observed all of this quietly, taking note of Sun’s expression and how he tended to look off to the side whenever Moon spoke. Despite being unable to hear the entire exchange, he had some idea what they were talking about; nothing those two did went unknown to him for long, even in spite of their best efforts to hide some of their hiccups from him at first. If nothing else, he was glad they could still talk to each other actively. I’m glad those mooks in the office are still afraid of the big bad OSHA man, he thought to himself smugly, thumb twitching against his forefinger.

With habitual movements, the messy haired man pulled a sucker out from somewhere in his pocket, peeled the wrapper off in one graceful tug and popped it in his mouth–he grimaced as the sour tang of lemon-lime graced his tongue. Peeking at the wrapper, he saw a small green gator-shaped icon stare back at him. Of course it would be Gator Blast.

“Phil?”

Said man glanced up, realizing the yellow jester had finished his aside in time to see the face Phil pulled at the bizarre flavor of Faz-pop he’d managed to fish out. “Hm?”

“What’s wrong?”

Rolling the candy to his cheek, Phil grumbled, “Monty’s lollipop flavor tastes like plastic and battery acid.”

Horror and concern flickered through Sun’s optics. “Should you be eating that??”

“Too late now.” He checked his watch quickly and made a displeased sound in his throat. “I’ve gotta go wrap some stuff up before Al starts in on me, promise me you two will be careful.”

“We promise!”

“I’ll see you in two weeks. Moon.”

Sun felt his brother’s awareness lean in again just as he was recoiling to whatever mental corner he claimed for himself.

Brow raised as he placed a hand on the daycare exit doors, Phil stated, “Behave,” despite knowing full well it wouldn’t be obeyed for very long. Waving politely, Sun affirmed on Moon’s behalf that he would, indeed, behave as much as possible–Moon himself made no such claim but chose not to argue the point for the moment. No, it would be more fun later to bring it up if and when Phil eventually found out he was not, in any capacity, behaving himself.

With the daycare functionally empty now, the yellow attendant set about checking his new and improved To Do list. Equipment and playsets loomed above him, one of the few things he found that could make him feel small–and hesitated. They still were not used to sharing a body, never mind the bizarre sensation of action overrides that happened on occasion when one of them felt too strongly and it overtook the other’s priority listing, but this one Sun had gotten familiar with. Though he himself didn’t have any issues with the bright plastic tubes and tangled nets that so many kids--and himself-- loved to scramble and climb over, he knew his brother had some… lingering hesitations about them.

For good reason, he knew, despite having been assured Moon wouldn’t remember the details, yet it didn’t stop the lunar unit from the occasional fear response whenever either of them found themselves looking up at the bars and bridges too long. Gently, Sun murmured, “Moon?” just loud enough to get his pair’s attention and snap him out of his trance–immediately, Sun felt his knees relax and motion return to him.

“Sorry, Sunny,” he heard back after a moment.

Carefully, Sun picked his way across the daycare floor to the great glass wall that enclosed the play area; there was a spot they knew where the shadows on the other side made the glass just a bit more reflective, allowing them a murky look at themselves if they stood in just the right spot. For a moment, Sun saw only himself staring back, red frill laying neatly around his neck, eyes bright and baby blue against his yellow and gold facial mold; he blinked hard and was not surprised in the least that when he look again, what stared back was a red frill laid under a blue cowl, navy and gray features replacing his own as grayed eyes peered back from the glass. A quirky little feature that had taken getting used to, but Phil never passed up on a chance to make things a bit easier on them, even when corporate threatened him with termination for making ‘unsolicited upgrades’.

Guilt crept through Sun’s circuits as he met Moon’s gaze in the glass; part of him was glad Phil hadn’t manually swapped them out to see for himself, but the betrayal of trust was almost too much for the yellow jester to bear. Feeling this, the reflection of Moon’s face creased with concern–he couldn’t touch his brother physically, but Moon knew he could be heard regardless. “You could have told him,” the night-colored bot said gently.

Sun started, “Its–” but hesitated, unable to maintain eye contact with the reflection. “I’m sure it’s nothing major. Mr. Mason isn’t the most… careful with us, and Phil has enough to deal with. You heard him, Mrs. Mercer isn’t feeling well and she’s having a baby–!”

“Sun.” Moon’s voice was firm, cutting off the tirade of excuses before it could get out of hand. “You’re doing it again.”

“I’m sorry.” With a start, Sun realized he’d grabbed onto one of his rays again while talking.

“Why do you do that?”

The barest hint of a shrug moved Sun’s shoulders. “Maybe the same reason the playsets make you freeze in place?” Sun’s brow furrowed. “I–I’m sorry, I…”

That hadn’t meant to be said aloud.

Moon seemed just as confused as Sun felt, thankfully, his brow an exact mirror of Sun’s, bunched in confusion at the odd vocalization. “It’s… fine,” he eventually managed to say, shaking his head. “I don’t mean to do it, I just…”

“I know.” Standing straight, Sun brushed imaginary fluff from his collar, attempting to make himself ‘presentable’ in an effort to get some kind of control over himself. “And you’re right, I should have told him about your eyes, but if he’s going to give us a big system clean-and-polish when he comes back, we can wait until then. Right?”

Their gazes met in the glass again.

Moon closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “It’s probably just Mason being clumsy, nothing major. We’ll tell Phil once he’s back. Mrs. Mercer needs him more than we do right now.”

“Exactly!” Turning quickly, Sun moved away from the glass, no longer able to maintain a sense of ease while his brother stared back with the empty, gray eyes that didn’t belong to him. “Today’s list has something new on it–” Pausing, Sun raised a finger in thought. “I don’t know where they keep the disinfectant.”

“I hope it’s not behind the desk.”

“Me, too!” Set about to find the elusive chemicals, Sun didn’t dare to check the glass again. At first, he’d hoped he'd been wrong when they chatted after the patch update and he thought Moon’s eyes were off somehow, but then a worker commented on it.

“Why are his eyes gray?”

Thankfully, by some miracle, that tidbit hadn’t gotten back to Phil yet.

Not that it made it feel better in Sun’s coding when he was met with empty gray irises any time he used the glass or a mirrored surface to see his brother.

Moon’s eyes shouldn’t be gray, he told himself fretfully.

They should be yellow.

#security breach #robot #security breach au #sundrop #legacy au #moondrop #fnaf sb #garbagechocolate #truth virus au #truth virus #angst #this isn't going to be fun for anyone

[thepurplewombat]

For the violence ask game, can I request your answers to numbers 3, 10, 14, 21 and 22?

ooooh lovely choices here!

3: screenshot or description of the worst take you’ve seen on tumblr

Oh, god, there are so many. But I think the worst and most frustrating ones are related to Jin Guangyao and Mo Xuanyu. I've seen a number of people say things about the whole thing being a lie from JGY's end to discredit MXY, and I've even seen some that called JGY a groomer, and tbh, it makes me sick on multiple levels. Allow me to explain:

So first of all, denying that MXY really did what he was kicked out of JLT for completely ignores some of the only things that we know about him from his own words (filtered through WWX of course, but isn't everything?). On Page 19 of Volume 1, WWX is reading MXY's demented scribblings and comes across the part where he is talking about having been kicked out of JLT. It is never mentioned that he feels resentment for this, or that it was all a lie - and if there is anywhere that it would say outright that MXY was angry because he was falsely accused, wouldn't it be in the private ramblings hidden in his own room?

Second of all, if JGY had really fabricated rumors that MXY had harassed him in order to get him kicked out, he would have had his own wound on WWX's arm. Which, let me be clear, he does not. We're talking novel canon here, and in the novel, all the wounds close once the Mo family are dead.

Third of all, I find it sickening because it is part of a pattern of placing JGY at fault for sexual and other violence committed against him. He was harassed by his own brother to the point of forcing him to expel him from the clan, he ended up married to his own sister - neither of those were his fault, but people tend to look at these situations and have just the most absolutely dumpster-fire rancid takes, like JGY committing sexual assault against Qin Su (he didn't - once he knew about their relationship he never slept with her again, and while yes, he should have told her the truth about why, his reasoning is completely understandable), or being into incest etc.

Actually also a lot of takes wrt JGY and sex are pretty rancid, but I think the MXY thing is the worst, and it keeps coming up and make me want to set the whole tag on fucking fire.

10 - worst part of fanon

There are a lot of fanon takes that annoy me - WWX is good at diplomacy, NMJ is a fluffy cuddlebear, LXC is a himbo, but none of them quite make me want to Hulk Out as bad as fanon JGY, who is essentially just JGS in a funny hat.

You want an uncomplicatedly and unrepentantly evil villain to pin your hate on? JGS is right there.

You want a rapist who never shows an ounce of regret? JGS is right there.

You want a monster who ordered human experimentation with resentful energy to be done? JGS is right there.

You want the author of all of WWX's post-Sunshot misery? Jin Guangshan is RIGHT FUCKING THERE!

But no, we're gonna go ahead and pin all of JGY's father's crimes on him.

ugh.

14 -that one thing you see in fics all the time

oh god, if I could have a penny for every time I have seen surprise villainYao in a fic tagged with xiyao I would be so rich. It's especially frustrating when it's in a modern AU, when a lot of the pressures that caused JGY to do the shit he did just didn't exist. With a lot of modern AUs you can't even say 'cool motive, still murder' (a valid take on JGY tbh) because 90% of the time he doesn't even have a motive? He's just out there killing people for shits and giggles and I'm like, 'You're thinking of Xue Yang. This isn't JGY, this is Xue Yang in a funny goddamn hat.'

21 - part of canon you think is overhyped

I've been sitting here for ten minutes trying to think of a specific part of canon that's overhyped and not just annoying to me personally, and I can't really think of anything? Like, there's this perception in fandom that LWJ is a loving and caring brother who did a lot for LXC, and that pisses me off because he is the worst didi in a work full of bad didis - JGY killed his elder brother, and still managed to not be as terrible a little brother as Lan 'abandon my brother who's just killed his best friend of twenty years with his own two hands to go fuck Wei Wuxian under a bush' Wangji. But that's annoying because it's wrong, not because it's overhyped, so I'm just gonna go with a big old 🤷‍♀️here.

22 - your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

I mean, I don't think it's ignored necessarily, but I would love for more people to pay attention to the fact that WWX literally made Wen Chao eat his own flesh, and that was really gross and horrible but also very sexy of him.

Because like, a part of the appeal of WWX is that he is legitimately monstrous. He does absolutely monstrous things during the Sunshot campaign, and people are right to be afraid of this extremely powerful and unpredictable person who commands the goddamn dead. But WWX is like an example of how you can be a monster but also try to be a good person, and a lot of people strip a lot of the complexity out of him by making him a Manic Pixie Dream Necromancer who's like, a little quirky but ultimately cool, and no, fuck that noise.

Wei Wuxian was a monster. He became a monster in response to the pressures of the war and his massive pile of untreated PTSD, but he was so terrifying that for a moment while I was reading the rescue of the Wen, I wasn't sure that they were going to go with him. And I wouldn't have blamed them for a second because this is the man who nearly single-handedly destroyed their clan, slaughtered their friends and families, and then commanded their corpses to slaughter even more. That's fucked up and villain behaviour, and nobody would have blamed the Wen for preferring the ordinary human torture and death and murder over whatever Wei Wuxian might choose to do to them. At least once the guards killed you the torment was over.

But a monster isn't all he is. He tries to do the right thing, he tries to be good, and while it doesn't solve the situation, it does mean something. Wei Wuxian's story is the story of a man who covered himself in blood to save his own life and the lives of others, and then found out that sometimes you don't get to go home. Sometimes the blood doesn't wash off and you spend the rest of your days with the shadows of your past hanging over you.

But he still tried! He still tried, and in the very end of the story, he is free, and happy, and loved.

But removing his darkest moments takes so much away from the light at the end, renders it so much less meaningful without the contrast of his darkest times.

Thank you for playing, sorry that my answers are so damn long, but apparently I get wordy sometimes!

#Wombat answers asks #wishthefish #jin guangyao #wei wuxian #yep I chose violence today #LWJ is the worst didi fight me

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

Nov 2022 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying the most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Between Us (Sun iQIYI) 1 of 12 - It got hot and heavy way faster than expected. With DeanPharm the side couple, I just want more of them like I did with WinTeam in UWMA. But yeah, it’s VERY good, thank fuck. WATCH ALONG HERE. 

Big Dragon (Sat Gaga) 6 of 8 - How can this dumb little pulp be so good? Also P’Nine? I will heal your broken heart. The brother zone is rough, baby. The thing about this damn drama is all of the characters are honestly motivated and act in accordance with their personalities. I think that’s mostly why I can’t stop watching. Loved the scene with Yai and his ma-in-law-to-be. Also, nice stinger! That’s one way to come out. Look this was a REALLY engaging ep. 

My Only 12% (Fri iQIYI) 14fin - I really did not expect this show to end on this note. Ah Earth with the crying. I did expect the final episode to be family drama-llama, but this kind of drama didn’t work for me under the context of a BL. I do love the siblings. (There’s a part of me that wanted Prem’s character to be Team. This could work as Team’s back story.) All in all? I found it disappointing. Conclusion: This is a strong little BL romance (tailor made for SantaEarth) about holding onto first love and childhood, but it’s buried under waffling family drama and formless side characters so that it took a lot of digging to get to - still, RECOMMENDED. 8/10 

Ai Long Nhai (Mon iQIYI) 7 of 10 - Nothing continues to happen and exactly nothing will and yet I keep watching. Probably because the nothing keeps getting shirtless. 

Ghost Host, Ghost House (Weds YouTube) 6 of 8 - Cute bfs are cute but... NO SINGING. Adorbs but sad GL side plot AKA dead lesbians got a nod. 

Remember Me (Sun Gaga) 5 of 12 - JaFirst are just great on screen together, I am very invested in their couple but, yeah, no one else. The stuff with Name was really difficult to watch, but Title is a GREAT little actor. 

Love in the Air (Thurs iQIYI) 13fin - Ultimately? Sky needed a therapist not a stalker lover, but whatever Mame. DUMPSTER FIRE TRASH WATCH COMPLETED HERE. I gave it a very reluctant 7/10, recommended only if you know you like this kind of thing. Look you remember in high school drama class where they make you “envision a basket, and put all of your worry, bad mood, and anxiety into that basket, and leave it outside the door”? Well, in order to enjoy this show, you have to do that, only with your morals. Some people have bigger baskets than others. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

My Tooth Your Love (Taiwan Fri Viki) 6 of 12 - I do like a little jealousy from the dentist. Yet another installment in this week”s “please get that uke to a therapist” only this time (unlike LITA) our seme actually gives it an honest try. I might be completely and totally in love with the dentist. I adore how stern he gets, plus he has a very strong white knight tendencies. Also baby boi wanna-bartend with the big-ass crush is giving me life. 

Eternal Yesterday AKA Eien no Kino (Japan Thurs Gaga) 4 of 8 - Am I the only one who JUST realized the actor playing Koichi is Komiya Rio who played Tanaka in Takara & Amagi? I’m so slow. Look all Japanese BL (even the most fluffy nonsense like Kabe Koji) is a little bit emo and exists in a sideways state. It’s gonna go into uncomfortable and uncanny spaces. It’s what it does. This one, given its psychological horror elements, is even more uncanny, to the point of creepy. I’m not a big fan of creepy, and yet I like this show. Japanese zombie incubus? Yes please. Look, I’m utterly unable to back away from the pun, and so: I see seme stiffie can get a stiffie. Puns aside? This was a killer first-time sex scene for something relatively low heat. I’m reminded of Shin’s tongue. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, no one does thirst like Japan. Korea and Thailand can have a winsome yearn-off, and Taiwan is great a pining, but Japan? Japan brings the Thirst. 

Choco Milk Shake (Korea Strongberry Tues YT) 3-4 of 10 - I love this show so much. It made me tear up and then in the second part I was laughing my ass off, because the cat was trying to teach the dog how to stare properly. So funny. Then Pets being worried about their sick human, is so accurate. Is anything funnier than the idea of a cat in a service industry job? I really don’t want this to be sad. Please don’t be sad. In Strongberry we trust is my mantra!

Kabe Koji (Japan Mon Viki) 6 of 10 - I like it more and more as it goes on, but I still don’t think I actually, ya know, like it. 

It’s Airing But I’m Not Watching It

War of Y (Thai Gaga) 20 eps - it’s just all too much for me.

My Roommate (Thai YT) 32 eps of 2 minutes each + terrible production values? - I’m not bothering.

Fahlanruk (Thai Sun GaGa) 12 eps - I cut my losses at ep 5. DNF

To Sir With Love AKA Khun Chai 28 eps - dito

2 Moons 3 (Thai Mon ??) 10 eps - Possibly a future binge watch. Rumor is it’s banal.

SELF (Thai Thurs YT) - DNF

Love Bill  (Vietnam Sat YT) - Bah Vinh is back but I’m too distracted. Also there’s a lot of fund raising and stuff going on. I’ll wait and binge.

In Case You Missed It

Korean GL She Makes My Heart Flutter finished it’s run on YouTube. RECOMMENDED. Full review (not by me) here. Extremely cute, about a lesbian bar run by an aunt and her niece.  

I have no idea if any of these still work, but the spies reported in on ways to watch the Cherry Magic movie (2022) with Eng Subs: BiliBili | Website I liked it, not as much as the original, solid 8/10 from me. Again no kissing, these actors must be expensive. Still with Thailand bringing the high heat with such consummate casualness these days (licking ass and taking names) there really isn’t much of an excuse anymore for no kisses. Even Korea has buckled. 

Gossip

Kpop boy group OnlyOneOf has collectively signed up to be in idol-based BL, Bump Up Business (based on a webtoon of the same name). They’ve been auditioning for this since Libido IMHO. You can watch me chronicle their BL MV series in this post. It’s from Idol Romance who will do sad and can do good kisses (Wish You, Nobleman Ryu, Once Again, Kissable Lips, Poongduck 304, Tasty Florida, Tinted With You). More info here. 

HIStory 5 is coming! Office BL + time travel. “A cheerful and energetic senior student from 2000 travels to the future (2022), works as a deliveryman, and meets his first customer, an heir with a domineering personality.” Nancy Chen to direct (HIStory 4, Papa & Daddy).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting up: 

Nov 18: I Will Knock You (Thai Fri Gaga) A college kid & tutor confronts the leader of a gang who then turns out to be his next student. Bad boy/good boy + sunshine/grumpy, + younger seme pairing, bully romance. Adapted from korean_rabbit's y-novel of the same name, directed by Champ (2gether).

Nov 19: GAP the series (Thai Sat YT) - 12 ep office set GL. WATCH IT! GL and this studio need our support. 

Nov 2022 still to come?

Nov 24: Happy Ending Romance (Korea Thurs Gaga) stars Karam (The Boss), Ha Jong Woo, and Leo (VIXX). Formerly Happy Ending Outside the Fence - thank fuck they changed the damn title.  

Nov 26: 609 Bedtime Story (Thai Sat WeTV) - another OhmFluke vehicle that’s rumored to be a good story. A one night stand leads to a series of mysterious premonitions and a possible parallel universe.

Nov ??: My School President (?? GMMTV YT) tester trailer here - it’s Love Sick + Korea & Japan's influence.

This Week’s Return of the Shirt of Shame 

Work From Heart wasn’t enough? You had to put it on the prettiest boy in the world? (Ghost Host, Ghost House) 

This week’s best moments?

Oops indeed. 

This weeks earworm: MCND #mood

(last week)

Note: I’m off to France and then Australia, as ya do, so posting may be odd and sporadic and strangely timed. Don’t get excited, it’s work, I mostly get to see the insides of hotels. 

#this week in BL #BL news #BL gossip #upcoming BL #best BL #new BL #BL reviews #Thai BL #Korean BL #Taiwanese BL #Japanese BL #live action yaoi #Rakutan Viki #gagaoolala #GMMTV #Remember Me #Ai Long Nhai #Big Dragon #Between Us #My Only 12% #Ghost Host Ghost House #My Tooth Your Love #Eternal Yesterday #Choco Milk Shake #Strongberry #Kabe Koji #Korean GL #She Makes My Heart Flutter #Cherry Magic movie #HIStory 5

[squarebracketsmileyface]

I don’t remember if I or anyone else has given this song yet… but Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives is so Alex

I love this song, but i usually relate it to Desert Duo (from third life and double life, idk if you know what that is but it's a cool minecraft series and its amazing so you should lol) so I'd never even thought about it in the context of Sorry, It's Locked.

But oh my god?

You're so right?

It's so Alex?

Anyway, uh, Too long and very armature analysis incoming. As usual lol. I have far too many thoughts, as always, about my babies, and I've been writing sorry its locked Jam for the last couple days so I need to remind myself of the dumpster fire of a relationship the fic started with :D (I'm kidding, i love Jaylex in this fic and wish I hadn't done them so dirty, they could have been amazing. but also i love angst)

This whole song feel's like Alex kinda, like, reminiscing over his and Jay's relationship? Or, like, how it ended, but like, reminiscing in the moment? Do you know what I mean? Or is reminiscing over something while it's still happening just a me thing lol. Anyway, super long thing incoming (I'm so sorry, it's so long. This song has me in a chokehold).

I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel It's all that I can give to you, my dear And when you come in quick to steal a kiss My teeth will only cut your lips, my dear

As far as Alex is concerned, his relationship with Jay didn't start out bad. Back in college, when they started their fwb situation it was pretty healthy (though that did go downhill relatively quickly) It started out fine, but tension grew as soon as Alex realized that Jay actually liked him and that he couldn't bring himself to like Jay back, or to allow himself to like Jay back. That started the friction between them, but they kept fucking because it was fun, they both enjoyed themselves, and Jay didn't call it off yet. Alex definitely liked Jay, but he didn't necessarily know he liked Jay back. And didn't know how to express it, so he just didn't.

Then obviously the stuff with the Operator started, and that changed Alex's personality a lot, making him irritable and unpleasant to be around, even for the people he'd been friends with the longest. His mouth grew sharp and cruel, but he didn't break off his thing with Jay because it was the one place where he actually felt in control of his life. Jay did what Alex told him to, and Alex didn't have to wrestle with himself to not be unkind to him, because that was what Jay wanted (as far as he'd made Alex aware, that was what he wanted out of their dynamic)

If Jay tried to initiate anything softer, or more romantic with Alex back in college (or even just mentioned it, sometimes) Alex would shut him down. His teeth cut Jay's lips when Jay went in to steal a kiss, because Alex couldn't let himself get attached, and if he let Jay kiss him without it being used as something to spur them on to acts where Alex was definitively in control, he wouldn't be able to cope with it.

(jesus this is already so long. im so sorry if you decide to read all of this dude)

And I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent

Jay trying to help Alex after they meet up again is pretty much the last thing Alex actually wants. He asked Jay for help to find Amy while his thoughts were being edited and glitched out by the Operator, so when he first got in contact with Jay again, he did it so he could try and kill Jay. Then he regained his senses a little and realized that the absolute worst thing Jay could do was stick around. Like, obviously Jay meant well in trying to help Alex, but Alex hadn't meant well when he'd asked for help.

Jay wants to help, and he want's to rebuild the friendship he once had with Alex. He wants to help find Amy, despite Alex leaving him for her. He wants to help figure out what happened to Alex back in college. He wants to help figure out how to save Alex from what he's figured out happened. But Alex isn't the person Jay's well intentioned helpfulness should be aimed towards.

Alex doesn't really think he needs saving, he's convinced he has to save everyone else. But he has a twisted understanding of what it means to save people, and his idea of saving people often directly lines up with the things the Operator edits his thoughts to make him do. He doesn't (can't) realize that the things he does to save people (killing them) and the things the Operator edits his thoughts to make him think it's okay to do (killing those same people) are the same thing.

When he has a bit more sense about him, he realises that killing because it's what the Operator put in his head is awful and not something he wants to do. But he doesn't see killing people to 'save them' as the same thing. He barely even sees it as killing half the time, and even when he does, it's for the greater good.

So he doesn't think he needs help and he doesn't think he needs saving. And even if he did realise he needs help, Alex doesn't believe himself worthy of being helped or saved, not when he knows what he really intended to do when he first asked Jay for help.

I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything And if you're fine with that You can be mine like that

SO i have two lines of thinking about what this verse could mean

Post College:

Alex doesn't break pretty items that Jay owns (he doesn't have any that Alex could break, really) but he does break Jay in a way. After they argue in the parking lot, he realizes that Jay isn't going to stop trying to help him, no matter what, so he'll have to force him to, by breaking Jay's heart and making him hate him.

Jay's heart is a pretty thing: It was loving even when Alex was giving it nothing but a good fuck in return. It made Jay help Alex with his student film even as Alex became more and more unbearable to work with. It made Jay come back to help Alex all over again when his girlfriend 'disappeared'.

Alex had to save Jay, and his own (deeply buried) feelings for Jay stopped him from just killing him like he had to save Amy, and Seth, and Sarah, and all the others. He had to find another way, and the only way he could think of was to wring Jay dry of every ounce of care he still held for Alex.

OR

During College:

Alex wasn't trying to hurt Jay and break his heart, if anything he felt constantly like he was doing nothing but breaking his own heart over and over again by denying himself the chance to actually date Jay. So he kept up the fwb situation with Jay because it 'suited' both of them (aka neither of them voiced the issues they had with it to the other) until he'd wrung Jay dry and an opportunity to escape having to deal with his own sexuality (Amy) came along.

But, if Amy hadn't come along and offered Alex the perfect way out, he would have kept the fwb going for as long as he could, not willing to give up having Jay in the only way he felt he could until he absolutely had to. If Jay could be fine with that, he could be Alex's like that, with their relationship never progressing and only ever wearing the two of them down until they resented each other and couldn't take it anymore.

They were never not going to go down in flames, but they could light the fire with wet wood and suffocate slowly on the smoke until the fire finally took and burned them up quickly and painfully.

Abandon all your stupid dreams About the girl I could have been, my dear 'Cause in the night I know you burn with feelings I cannot return, my dear Oh, my dear

In college, Alex was silently begging Jay to give up his hopes of ever actually dating him, of them being together officially. He knew what Jay wanted him to be to him, but he also knew that he couldn't be that. He wanted to, somewhere squashed deep down, he really really wanted to be the soft, loving, romantic partner that Jay was waiting and hoping he'd turn into, but he knew it wouldn't happen. Maybe he didn't realize all of that consciously. Consciously he probably just thought he didn't like Jay like that at all, that he was just a good lay and that was the end of it. But he had one too many dreams about taking Jay on quiet, gentle dates for him to really only see Jay as a good fuck.

The thing is though, that he knows what Jay wants them to be to each other. He knows from the way that Jay looked at him whenever he messes up and starts treating him a little nicer, a little gentler, a little softer, when they fuck.

He knows that during those moments where they still together and catch their breaths, and Jay looks up at him like he's hung the stars just because he's brushing his sweaty hair out of his face, that Jay has those feelings and those hopes. And he knows he can't return those feelings. He can't return the love that Jay lavishes on him by not telling him to fuck off and going and finding someone who is willing to treat him the way he really wants to be treated. It kills him, but there's nothing he can do about it.

(Also good news, you're about half way through :D whoooooo, the torment isn't eternal!)

You gotta know that this won't last Desperation will erase the fact I'm keeping all Of the answers in my cigarette box Yeah, the answer's in the second before the other shoe drops And if you're blind to that I am fine with that

Back in college, Alex needed Jay to know that their arrangement couldn't last, that as much as Jay wanted it to work and wanted Alex to magically sort out the shit in his head that left him too scared to even properly date Jay in secret rather than just being fwb, it wouldn't. Alex needed Jay to know that it wouldn't change unless it was to break the whole thing off entirely, which is what happened, it was what was always going to happen. But if Alex could have made Jay realize that that was what he should have expected, and that nothing he could do would 'fix' that, maybe the not-breakup wouldn't have hurt Jay so badly.

Alex didn't want to hurt him, he wasn't trying to hurt him back in college, he was just trying to stop himself from hurting by continuing their fwb relationship. Alex's life was spiraling out of control, his own thoughts were spiraling out of his control, as were his actions sometimes, and the only time he felt secure in his control over himself and his life, was when he was controlling Jay in scenes.

The answers he always gave Jay when Jay got up the courage to try to talk about their relationship, and what he hoped it could become, weren't the truthful answers. Alex told him he didn't like him back, told him he was just a good fuck, when the real answer was that he was terrified out of his mind, and the idea of changing their relationship even a little felt dangerous. Because their fwb relationship worked and it gave Alex the control he needed, if they started dating that would bring in a huge amount of unknown variables, and if it ended up not working? That would leave Alex with nothing. Not to mention the general internalized homophobia, and the homophobia all around them meaning that it could be genuinely dangerous for both of them if the wrong people found out.

So he keeps all the real answers hidden away in a place Jay won't look for them, in a 'cigarette box' (behind the lies he tells instead) because it's something easily hidden, its something that wouldn't look out out of place, just like the lies he tells don't look out of place. Jay has no real reason to question the answers Alex gives him, they make sense and Alex's behavior seems to back up the idea that he doesn't like Jay the same way Jay likes him.

And Jay's desperation to have a relationship with Alex blinds him to the fact that it could actually be possible if only Alex would stop lying to him. Any time Jay sees a crack in Alex's facade he second guesses himself, insisting that it's just wishful thinking and that little glimpse behind the walls Alex has built was just something his hopeful, lovesick mind made up. It's always a split second, something so tiny and easy to miss that Jay automatically dismisses it.

Oh, I will ruin you Oh, I will ruin you It's a habit, I can't help it I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent

After college, when Jay and Alex meet up again and everything that happens after the argument in the parking lot happens, Alex knows that it's a terrible idea. He knows that all it'll do is reopen old, half healed, half festering wounds and rub salt in them, but Jay wants it, and he wants Jay so he doesn't stop them. He's lost all of his friends (whether to death or just distance), he's lost Amy, and the only thing he has left is an old, already failing not-relationship with Jay. So to tries to make himself feel better by rekindling that.

He and Jay fuck in the parking lot and Alex realizes that this is most likely going to be the last chance he ever gets to have Jay back, even just for one night. And if this is the last chance, he doesn't want it to be exactly the same as it was in college, so he takes Jay back to his house and does all the things he'd been too scared to back in college. Because who would find out? And if anyone did? Why would it matter, Alex's life had already fallen apart and become controlled by fear and a monster, what was getting beaten up for being queer in comparison to that?

This was his last chance to have Jay back, and Alex knew he had to make sure of that. He couldn't drag Jay into all of this, so he had to ruin everything in the worst way possible, and having taken Jay back to his house and treated him so nicely was (instead of coming back to bite him in the ass) going to work in his favor. Even in being nice, he was going to be hurting Jay, but that was what he had to do. Hurting Jay is a habit he can't kick, it's woven into his dna at this point and there's nothing he can do about that other than try to twist it into being something that's for Jay's own sake.

If he can just make Jay hate him enough, he can save him, he can drive him away and Jay won't be a target of the man in the black suit.

I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything But if you're fine with that If you're fine with that

Same as earlier :]

I will poison all your happy thoughts I will love you like the ashes in my cigarette box And if you're fine with that You can be mine If you're fine with that You can be mine, oh

Jay's 'happy thoughts' that Alex is poisoning are the memories of how nicely Alex treated him when they got back to his house. In the moment of it all, he wasn't thinking of anything other than showing Jay how much he actually cared about him and how he should have been being treated all along. In the moment he just wanted to be good to Jay. It was only afterwards that he realized what he'd have to do, and he took the next morning to spit poison into their breakfast, which could have been a turning point in their relationship if only they weren't doomed by the damn narrative.

So Alex ruins the night before for Jay by telling him he hadn't even wanted to remember that it was him he was fucking. He poisons those memories forever, as well as poisoning the idea of being treated well in general for Jay.

Alex loves all those truthful answers that he kept hidden away behind lies back in college. Those truths are what he was trying to finally finally let out when he and Jay spent the night together at his house.

He loves Jay like he loves those truthful answers that he never got to give him back in college, bitterly. Those truths were things he never thought he'd get to, never wanted to get to tell Jay, they sat rotting behind the lies he told, and now he can only look at them with a painful sort of nostalgia because it's too little too late.

#marble hornets #jay merrick #alex kralie #jaylex #marble hornets fanfic #MH sorry its locked

[what-gs-watching]

"Why is no one having a good time? I specifically requested it."

Here’s a thing: my husband used to watch a ton of tv, all the time. Always had something on in the background. But then he got sucked into TikTok and his attention span broke, so I’ve been watching most things myself.

He just put together a snack to wind down from his work day, and came back in for a glass of milk. I’m on the couch and as he swished by he said “I just turned on Brooklyn Nine-Nine”, which in and of itself was surprising, only to continue “and remembered he’s dead…” and I let out a wail I’ve been mostly ignoring. 

Andre Braugher, I’m so sad that you’re gone. Brooklyn Nine-Nine is one of my absolute favorite comfort shows, and I’m not sure how I’m going to stand it now, for a while. Captain Holt is iconic, you can’t watch that show and not fall in love with him. 

And now it’s just…sad.

Nine-Nine is another one of those shows I started watching religiously while it was airing on cable, the entirety of the reason being Andy mother-effing Samberg. I have been in love with him (and the Lonely Island, which we should talk about eventually) since that crazy man joined SNL and so nothing was going to tear me away from his randon sitcom. I came for him, obviously, but I stayed for everyone else.

Including, and mostly, Captain Raymond Holt. 

I’m not gonna lie, he might be the most realized, well-defined character on the show. The man has layers. Gay, black cop who finally becomes captain of his own squad. Deadly serious, married to a professor, proud dog dad, lover of rules, hard grudge-holder, extremely literal and blunt, with the weirdest sense of humor. 

Most of the best moments of this show involve Holt. There’s an entire scene wherein the squad is put on the night shift and it’s fucking with everyone’s relationships and someone suggests his bad mood is because he needs to  bone down with his husband. His reaction has me crying every single time.

He has a dance-off with a kid on the street. He goes undercover as a straight person and does it hilariously. He gets incredibly, heavily, disturbingly invested in the Halloween heist game Jake sets up each year. He creates a ridiculous balloon arch for a wedding and gets deeply attached to it, and is infuriated by the fact that everyone thinks it’s weird as hell. He has the most fantastic arch rival relationship with an old partner, to the point where he plans to deliver a scathing eulogy when she unexpectedly dies. He learns the choreography set to Salt ‘N Peppa’s “Push It” and performs it to distract Amy while she’s giving birth. 

It feels like a lot of characters on tv are two-dimensional, but good lord, Holt was in full technicolor, and it’s obvious the reason it works so well is because Andre Braugher was a master of his craft. He WAS Holt, for a lot of people, including me. No one else could have stepped in and created that man. 

Throughout the show, Jake treated him like a surrogate dad because his own father (lol at Bradley Whitford in that role) was a dumpster fire, and it was really sweet. He just wanted validation, and acceptance.

In the finale, he tells Jake, "On my first day here, I asked Jeffords to tell me about everyone, He told me you were a great detective, but the one thing you couldn’t figure out was how to grow up. Well, I think you’ve finally figured it out. Over the years, you’ve sometimes referred to me as something of a father figure, but I want you to know, if I had had a son, and he had turned out like you, I would be very proud of him.”

I have a dad of my own, he’s wonderful and I love him and we have a great relationship, but y’all, Holt can be a surrogate dad for me too. He can be one for everyone. He always had a pearl of wisdom and he supported the entire squad in absolutely everything, and he was just an excellent human. Who was FUNNY and multidimensional and just…dope. 

He’s one of those perfect characters. And they don’t come along that often. So I guess the point is, thank you, Andre Braugher, for bringing him to life, and giving us the gift that is Captain Raymond Holt. I’m glad we still have him, even if we don’t have you.

#brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #captain holt #captain raymond holt #andre braugher #andy samberg #what g's watching #comfort show

[nono-bunny]

Heya! Just wondering, since Netflix Geeked Week will probably show a trailer for the live-action Avatar on Thursday, I want to ask a few things:

Are you excited for it?

What do you think they'll keep, cut, and expand in this live-action of ATLA - Book One: Water (Season 1)?

Since Bryke are not on the project now, do you have a good feeling that this live-action could be a lot better than what they come up with at Avatar Studios?

(By the way, were these "Braving the Elements" episodes recent from your last posts? And were Bryke really acting like complete stooges in them? :O )

Hi, thank you for the lovely ask!

I've been completely ignoring the huge Geeked Week banner so I have no idea what's up with that or that it's possible we're getting a trailer soon, so that's cool information to have lol

1. I honestly can't say I'm excited for the live action. The last Netflix live action for a beloved childhood franchise of mine was such a dumpster fire because they focused on being edgy and dark and abandoned the source material for the worse, so like? Past experience has made me extremely cautious in regards to live action adaptions coming from them. In general I am not a fan of this trend- the Disney ones are shit, and I only really find myself watching and enjoying the (sometimes shitty, but like, in a fun way) J-drama adaptions of old shoujo manga as I don't really fuck with any other genre nowadays. Anime has a long history with shitty adaptions for action shows, and as action is inherent to ATLA after all, even if it's not technically an anime, I know that's gonna be a hurdle they'll have to clear- just having good effects and fight scenes. It's not MY personal focus as I do find charm in shitty effects (I do like J-dramas after all!) but honestly that is probably what's gonna make or break the initial hype for the show imo. Rn I'm honestly just... So neutral about it to the point where it surprises me (I'm. Very much not a neutral person usually lol) and I think it's just a matter of like.... Being burned AND pleasantly surprised by ATLA stuff before so I'm kinda hedging my bets until I know which way it's gonna go for me. Honestly I can very realistically see me LOVING it, but the other option is that it's bad and that's kinda what I'm preparing for rn ig? I can't imagine I'll be too upset if it's just... Bad or unsatisfactory given that I already spend way too much energy on the shit the OG did wrong lol, if the LA follows suit with those I think I'll just kinda... Ignore it lol. Idk, A LOT of mixed feelings

2. I... Really can't even begin to imagine what they choose to do with the reduced time frame, but I know I for sure have my own thoughts on what I WISH they would! Mainly I want NO Kataang, if there's Kataang I'm not gonna even bother with it tbh unless it's completely one sided (which it was in the original, yet we still know how THAT turned out)... I obviously want endgame Zutara, but I'm not hard pressed on it tbh- it would be funny as fuck for it to happen after Bryke left over creative differences though! I REALLY want the Blue Spirit to stay, I really DON'T want The Great Divide (no way it's staying in though so we're probably safe on that front), and overall I kinda just? Want Aang to be more sympathetic- him being irresponsible in the original show only makes sense until a certain point, and I want an Aang that shows an ability to grow from early on. Aang's an awful, awful Avatar, and I truly want him NOT to be one here- honestly, a good way to get around some of his early issues would be to borrow a bit from Korra and twist his love for slacking off into an enthusiasm for all four cultures (rather than just their rideable animals), which I feel like he was CLOSE to having... But as usual with him it was all tell and no show- I wanna see him having friends in all four nations, I wanna see him being multi cultural even before he gets freezed, I wanna see him embrace all four bendings and cultures rather than fixating on air, I wanna see him fail and take responsibility... But I also still want to see him being a kid, because that's crucial, and while the original show never allowed him to grow up, I also don't want him to be immediately seen as and treated as wise and powerful- I want him to struggle with what it means being an Avatar who knows about it at such a young age, I want to see him meaningfully interact with his past incarnations, I want him to ACTUALLY find a balance! I think I maybe just... Want a whole new main character still named Aang tbh, because I DON'T like who he is in the original show, but I do like who he could've been! I REALLY don't want the show to be intentionally edgy- if it goes into any dark topics, they should be ones already raised in the original. I want some more light shed on how the North Pole and Pakku's sexism never went away, I want the show to acknowledge that the monks didn't go down without putting up a hell of a fight, I want to know what the fuck Zhao was doing to get promoted like that despite his constant failures on screen, I want to really dive deep into Aang and Bumi's relationship and maybe how Aang failed him on a personal level (he's literally the only one who would've missed Aang, not the Avatar for all this time) and how he mourned him for years, I want Aang to contend with and realize that he's in a war and how he's FOR SURE killed people and will have to again even before Koizilla (he kills so many people in The Northern Air Temple!!)... I could honestly kinda do with an abridged version of some of the Gaang's travels, like, a lot of them are neat but only matter tangentially or from a world/character building perspective and can be dropped/merged/replaced pretty safely tbh. For example, Haru doesn't really need to exist tbh, what Imprisoned does for Katara can and maybe even SHOULD change gears to focus more on her rather than this random guy who only ever shows up once more to get laughed at because he has a lame mustache. The Fortuneteller should be dropped or altered severely because its message doesn't hold up under scrutiny. Yue should be a bigger presence and be more of an established character. Jet should maybe get his role expanded. Suki should be more of a presence throughout. There are a lot of ways to make the first season better tbh, and also it NEEDS to change to fit with the new timeframe so? Yeah I hope they do a good job at separating the wheat from the chaff because god knows the original show did not know how to do that.

3. I'm honestly pretty confident in saying that Avatar Studios will never ever make anything good, or at the very least, anything that I'll like, but as to what the lack of Bryke means for the LA? Honestly, it's all up to the people working on it- Bryke being bullheaded and bad writers isn't exclusive to them, and if the staff is made up of writers that lean too heavily on the source material or drift too far from it that could honestly sink the whole show. Of course I'm happy they're not on board given their awful track record, but like... I know nothing about any of the people working on it in their stead, so a lack of Bryke doesn't necessarily equate to good writing (it certainly does leave out THEIR bad writing though!!)

Braving the Elements is soon gonna start reviewing the third season of ATLA, and it started in 2021 so everything there is very recent! And yeah, every time Bryke are on they prove themselves to be assholes all over again, they keep topping themselves somehow istg!

I feel that this isn't my most eloquent post but tbh I'm quite sick rn so this is the best I can do atm, hopefully I managed to answer properly anyway?

#avatar the last airbender #atla #anti aang #anti kataang #anti bryke #atla critical #atla live action