#this might be nitpicking

[watermelonsloth]

So... Sarada's Timeskip Design

First some positives:

The design works in both Haruno(choker, red) and Uchiha(earrings, black) elements. Even though they are few, I prefer it over the complete absence of both like we got in her last manga design

I like the somewhat unique choice in headband placement

The outfit is pretty fashionable and I can easily picture a teenager wearing it

Her earrings are a nice touch

Her haircut is really cute

Now the negatives(oh god are there negatives). I can't shorten this to simple bullet points so I hope you like the paragraph format. First, the obvious:

It Doesn't Look Practical In The Least

She's wearing big-ass heels, her leg warmers are loose enough to get caught under her feet, her shorts(the bottom half of her romper?) are short enough to give her a wedgie, she has pretty much no leg protection, the shuriken holster attached to her leg without bandages looks uncomfortable, the belt is completely useless, her jacket is baggy and unzipped and begging to fall off, her sleeves look like they'd get in the way during combat, her glasses feel noticeably fragile, and what woman in their right mind would wear a strapless bra into combat? (I can only let the last one slide because it's two men who're working on this manga) If not for the metal plate, shuriken holster, and open-toed shoes, I wouldn't even think she was a ninja(or from the Naruto franchise, for that matter). Lack of practicality doesn't tend to bother me since this is fantasy and every character wearing maximum practicality outfits would get boring, but Sarada looks like they didn't even make an attempt at making her look combat ready. Still, all of this would be fine if not for my next point.

This Doesn't Look Like Something Sarada Would Wear

If impracticality was in character or served a narrative purpose, it would be a point in the designs favor. Except, Sarada isn't the type of character to wear something so impractical. In the manga, she's the character that takes being a ninja the most seriously, she's one of the few with clear goals, and she's the resident team leader and smart one. What part of her design tells us any of that? Yes, manga Sarada is weirdly flirtatious. But that aspect of her personality already contradicts her otherwise disinterest in boys and romance, it doesn't mesh well with her portrayal in the anime(which is also supposed to be canon), it's already an inconsistent part of her personality, and there's already been so many complaints about it(even in Japan from what I can tell) that you'd think that Ikemoto wouldn't continue with it.

Why Does It Invoke So Much Akatsuki?

This might just be me, but I think the design has too many nods to the Akatsuki. The oversized jacket, the fabric around the bottom of her leg, and the black, red, and white/silver color scheme in similar ratios. I'm not saying you'll confuse her for an Akatsuki member by any means and there were certainly more things they could've done to make her resemble the Akatsuki if that was their goal. What I'm saying is that if I were trying to make nods towards the former villain organization in a character's design, I'd use similar design elements.

The worst part is that this was entirely avoidable. Even ignoring that they could've scrapped the more impractical aspects of her design to avoid this, her color palette didn't even have to be this way. Red isn't the only color that can invoke connections to Sakura; shades of pink, light green, and white are also colors of Sakura. Black isn't even the most common color that Uchiha's wear, shades of dark purple and blue are. Purples and blues would've also been a better nod to Sasuke. Maybe they wanted her to wear "Uchiha colors," but, once again, those aren't really Uchiha colors. Black is, but red has only appeared in Madara's armor, the sharingan, and the clan crest and white has also only appeared in the clan crest(I don't even remember an Uchiha that ever wore silver). If you wanna argue that Sarada's color is red, then I ask why wouldn't they just keep red as her primary color instead of making it an accent? Her last manga design had black and white as accents, I don't think keeping her color palette the same would've bothered anyone. I know that Kishimoto added black to Naruto's design to help make him look more mature, but Sarada's design doesn't invoke "mature" anyways and it certainly isn't a more mature version of her last design because, much like the majority of the two blue vortex designs, it looks nothing like her last design. It's even worse than when they started adding too much black to Naruto's design because now it reminds people(or at least me) of an organization that I doubt she's meant to be affiliated with. But who knows? Maybe like the metal plate of her headband being on an easily removeable jacket, this is all foreshadowing to something.

I don't blame anyone for thinking this is a nitpick, but it bothers me and I wanted to express it.

Conclusion

Sarada's design is the worst for the same reasons her last design was the worst plus it looking too much like she took inspiration from the Akatsuki's wardrobe. Forget needing a second draft, this design needs to be scrapped and replaced. Maybe the anime will find a way to fix it, maybe it won't. Only time will tell and it'll hopefully tell us good news.

(Side note: why is she constantly drawn with her feet pointed inwards? it makes her look insecure.)

#sarada uchiha #sarada timeskip #character design #complaining about character design #character design analysis #boruto analysis #naruto analysis #boruto naruto next generations #boruto next generation #boruto two blue vortex #sarada deserved so much better #this might be nitpicking #but what is tumblr for if not nitpicking #rambling #rant #my stooff

[lavaflowe]

My DTYIS took so long, that by the time I posted it, I felt like it didn’t really fit my style or skill level anymore so I thought “why not do it again?” SO HERE WE ARE

Third times the charm✨😎

Me rambling about all the little details:

For this one took a lot of inspiration from the wrathful aspect of the Bodhisattva of wisdom Mahakala (I did a research project on him a while ago and the iconography stuck with me). He was mostly prayed to to protect troops during wars and battles so I thought it fit well with Wukong and his warform. The five jewel ornaments in Wukongs hair are reference to Mahakala’s five skulls, which also represent the five wisdom‘s. The skullcap and knife of course reference the spread of wisdom and destruction of ignorance.

For what Wukong’s outfit I thought since he doesn’t necessarily need armor, it would be fun to reference opera! I did have to change the colors tho from his opera outfit to better mesh with the color scheme.

And for the last bit- the ruyi bang. For my redesign, I included lotus buds that bloom when wukong reaches enlightenment. But I wanted to continue having the staff change with along with him- so in place of the lotus buds, I decided to put Dragon Pearl for the time spent at Ao Guangs palace. Dragon pearls are usually flaming, and that also reminds me of the Buddhist mani, wish granting jewels (which can also be flaming).

#cw eyestrain #I do love me so good eyestrain #overall super happy with this!! #ofc I could nitpick a few things but imma stay positive #me opening the file to work on it: gets flashbanged by the colors #when it still had a white background it was genuinely hard to look at #might have strained my eyes ngl #ba dum tss #anyway this gets a thumbs up from me UwU #my art #sun Wukong #jttw #journey to the west #Warform wukong

[bug4932]

please do more warrior cats au art i’m begging 🙏 never knew i needed it until now. also is the slaughterhouse five bloodclan

cmon join shadowclan with us we can take down coilstar from the inside. bloodclan could be good for the s9 but imo theyre best suited to being a band of rogues

#including the follow up ask so ppl dont nitpick u in rbs #try as i might i am not a furry so the designs may be lacking here #dont @ me if these are canon names for characters ive had no idea whats happening in it for a decade i just like watching youtube animations #ask #wormblr #parart

[thankspete]

Reunion | dob

Word Count: 4.6k Rating: M Summary: Doesn't matter how long you've waited for it; it's always worth it. | Also on Ao3! Warnings: (the usual, minors dni etc) praise, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex (+creampie), marking??, pretty boy is always in charge <3, overstimulation, brief somnophilia + masturbation mentions, they're so in love, no use of y/n as always A/N: this is my belated x(xx)mas gift to u. mwah ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself, not really.

It was always like this. Maybe it would’ve worked if your back was flat against your mattress, in solitude at eleven at night. You always fell asleep, so content, within minutes. But succumbing to your desires, utilizing your free will to make yourself tremble and squirm during the daylight hours of three in the afternoon while he’s out there, so sexy and so unaware… it was over as soon as you turned the faucet to hot.

There was nothing like cumming in the shower; maybe it was the adrenaline of holding yourself upright at the risk of shattering the glass door or maybe it was the rough pulse setting of your showerhead. Who knows.

There couldn’t have been a better–more scorching–late spring afternoon after days of uncharacteristic gloom. Your late-morning was spent lounging by the pool, grazing on cubed pineapple and hiding greedy looks at Dylan’s body behind your sunglasses. It’d been nearly a week since you’d last had him; he was fresh off a red-eye from his sibling’s birthday celebrations on the east coast. The early flight, coupled with Tommy’s insistence on taking him to a show at a bar in the East Village last night, meant he was schlubbing around all day, falling in and out of a day-long nap. You could admit it was cute when he dozed off on the lounge chair, cap brim low on his face and chin on his chest, but it reached a breaking point when you were sprawled on the couch together, his large hand cupping your breast and a soft snore in your ear. His grip was loose, allowing you to slide easily from his arms, slink to your room, and grab your bathrobe.

Your skin felt warm when you stepped onto the cool tile, still deciding between waiting it out and dealing with the thud in your cunt. You stood beneath the stream, feeling the hot water funnel into the main line as the shower temperature quickly rose from frigid to steaming. You were focused at first, fingers diligently massaging shampoo into your scalp, but they roamed a little further while you scrubbed your torso. With a sigh, you reached for the chrome showerhead and twisted to change the water pressure. It’s quick, you thought. He’d likely still be asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so gorgeous but so unavailable. 

And it was quick, but it also left your knees rattling and head spinning from the thick, waterlogged air. Tiny shockwaves are still traveling up your body when you step out onto the plush bath mat, intensifying as the cold bathroom air rushes past your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. A tiny whine escapes your lips as you shimmy into your fleece bathrobe and wrap a towel around your head. Looking at yourself in the mirror is a struggle of its own, a visible warmth spread across your face and a well-bitten bottom lip alerting you to the levels of your own arousal. You grunt when you step away, attempting to designate your urges to after dinner, and instead thinking about if you need to take anything out of the freezer to defrost. 

“Hi,” Dylan’s soft greeting is a surprise when you step out of the bathroom into your shared bedroom. He’s lying on his side, head resting on his elongated arm and phone screen-down on the bed. His eyes look tired, but his silhouette glows in the light from the window. Dark green sweatpants hang low on his hips, exposing the elastic of his underwear. 

“Hi.” You hang your hair towel up behind the bathroom door and begin to walk towards him. “Looking for me?”

“Mmhm.” You twirl a lock of his chestnut hair around your pointer finger, enjoying the length before he inevitably buzzes it all off. “S’boring out there, every episode of Curb is the same.”

“Yeah?” He shifts, sitting up to swing his legs over the side of the bed and face you. “You know what happened during the episodes you were asleep for?” Your hand is in his and he pulls it to rest on his cheek. 

“Yeah.” He smiles up at you. “Larry David acts like an asshole, gets what he deserves, goofy end credits song, repeat.” You refrain from rolling your eyes as you settle into his lap, your knees on either side of his body.

“Hm. You’re right,” you mumble between pressing kisses into the scratchy skin of his cheek. One of his hands settles comfortably on your lower back. “That’s it? You came to find me because you were bored?”

“I missed you.” Dylan’s free hand travels up your thigh until he is forearm-deep beneath your robe. “Woke up an’ you were gone.” The water droplets on your skin provide no retaliation to his hot breath on your neck. Something about it makes you want to curve your spine to press your chest to his. Would he feel the rattle behind your breastbone? Could he feel the heat from between your legs, so deftly pressed against the lump in the front of his sweatpants? “Had a dream about you.”

You’re certain now you’re both on the same page, but you pull back and narrow your eyes at him anyway. “Just now?” He narrows his eyes right back at you, a playful smile teasing the corners of his lips. His eyes are a decadent shade of brown as they gaze sleepily into yours. 

“Maybe it’s been recurrent.” He shrugs as if he has no clue what you’re talking about, but you catch a glint of mischief in his look. His hands are moving now, one groping your outer thigh and the other fiddling with the fabric rope keeping your bathrobe tied shut. 

You almost fall into him at that moment. The flood between your legs only feels more and more apparent since you’d hooked the shower head to its mount and twisted the faucet tightly to the left. Instead of finding comfort against his mouth or alerting him to the wet spot you’re leaving in his lap, you blurt out, “You wanna tell me about it?”

“Would rather show you.” His lips lock onto yours, arms pressing your body into his, molding yourself around him. He’s diligent and in control, mouth firm and domineering against yours. His tongue is soft and wetter than yours, with access to it allowing you to taste a hint of sweetness and tobacco. His hands roam dutifully across the hems of your garment, pushing the fabric off your shoulder and loosening the belt around your waist. Dylan’s back falls to the bed, tugging you down with him. Your robe is splayed open now, caught on your shoulders and thighs. His mouth disconnects from yours to watch you, properly feel you softly grinding yourself against him. It’s almost enough to make you self conscious, but his gaze is always so soft when you’re at your most vulnerable. He doesn’t haphazardly grasp at your body as you lean over him; his hands are deliberately placed on your upper thighs, ghosting feather-light circles into your skin. The sensation makes you slightly ticklish, immediately sending electricity up your spine and goosebumps rippling across your skin. How he knew that would get your nipples pointed and directly in front of his face, you’d never know. You’re not being watched by Dylan, you’re being seen. “You like using me, huh angel?” It’s posed as a question, but you don’t need to answer. You just press your hands to his stomach, your center to the firm bulge in his pants. “Mine,” he says quietly to himself, greedily holding you by your hips and guiding your movements. It’s not enough, but you can feel a pool slowly form in your lower stomach as he works your cunt against his increasingly hard cock. His hips press harder into yours as he moves, fucking into you. You surrender control over your core to him entirely, letting him scrape his clothed cock into your swollen center, twitching when he’d move just right. Your nails leave crescent shaped marks as you hold tightly to his sides. You’re trembling, soft sighs escaping your lips with each swipe of his hips. “Is this really how you wanna cum, sweetheart? Like you’re a teenager again, can’t control yourself?” The condescension dripping from his tongue is almost enough to send you over the edge right then and there. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” You whimper pitifully as he halts your movements and pushes you onto your back. 

“Thought you’d take it as a compliment if I came on your pants.” Your breathing is shallow, eyes watching the way he leans over you, caging you onto the bed with his body.

“Mm.” Dylan’s thinking about it, even if he’s pretending to be preoccupied with touching you. The shift in his eye contact and slight bob in his throat is what gives him away. “Yeah… I have some other ideas, though.” He absentmindedly traces up your stomach, under your breasts, to your collarbone. “My dream, remember?” His tired eyes shine as they look down at you. He is deliberate in his touches, your skin sensitive and lower abdomen incredibly keyed-up. 

“I’ve been so good,” you pant, letting your hands roam across the firmness of his chest to his shoulders, then his triceps. “Missed you.”

“I believe it,” he says off-handedly, too busy determining whether to attack your collarbone with his tongue or his teeth. “Thank you for picking me up from the airport this morning.” The sentence comes out muffled; he chose teeth. 

“You’re so welcome,” you sigh. “But that’s not what I meant.” You hook your right knee around his thigh and he holds it in place. “You’ve been so busy snoozin’... I’m feeling a little neglected.” He licks his lips as he stares down at you. You’re looking up at him from beneath your lashes, seemingly too bashful for what stumbles from your mouth next. “Maybe it’s unfair, but I was hoping you’d fuck me when we got home this morning.” His eyes, calculating and a remarkably burnt umber color, remain steady as they bore into yours. He’s always so much better at this than you are. “Maybe in front of the mirror by the entryway.” You swallow. Your voice is small, mind distant with nothing but his body keeping you grounded in reality. “Or against the front door.” You guide his hand down your stomach, over your stubbly pubic mound to the dampness that has been accumulating for what feels like hours. It probably has been hours. His eyebrows shoot up. It was only seven in the morning when you’d gotten back, the golden warmth of sunrise peeking through the ornate crystal gaps in your wooden front door. Dylan looked beautiful in the light, especially with a duffel over his shoulder and raccoon circles around his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart.” You feel yourself falling into your favorite dynamic as your senses become overloaded with him. Dylan is bigger than you’d think from afar, experiencing no issue trapping you between his arms and beneath his body; his gentle breathing, smelling faintly of spearmint and American Spirits, fans over your skin. He’s looking at you like you’re dinner, but something in his eyes tells you he’s going to savor it. “You’ve been so patient, haven’t you?” The hand you placed over your cunt is lazily spreading your pleasure between your folds, brushing past your clit and occasionally circling your trembling hole at excruciating intervals. His other hand travels everywhere, brushing wet hair from your face to ghosting around your neck and gently caressing your breasts. “All day, bet you were soaked for me the whole time, my good girl.” Your eyes roll back and you feel your chest cave in with your breath. “You could’ve said something, y’know.” It comes out almost like a purr and electricity zips up your spine.

“If you hadn’t passed out every fifteen minutes,” you bite. He pinches your nipple sharply between his pointer finger and thumb in response to your attitude, resulting in a yelp escaping your throat. Luckily, it’s the only punishment you get.

“Baby, you know what you want is always alright with me.” You swallow as you watch him intently, your eyes flickering between his eyes and lips, unsure of his next move. “You know how incredible it would’ve been,” he pauses his movements between your legs and shifts his arms to the sides of your head before continuing, “seeing you needing me, in my sleep, taking me like I know you can… to wake up to you messy, doe-eyed, and gagging all over me?” Your face is hot, you’re sweating, and you’re squirming under his firm gaze. “You’d like that too, huh? Be honest, my love. You trust me, don’t you?” His voice is satiny to your ears. Your vision is blurred by pure adrenaline and adoration. The dryness in your mouth prevents speech, but you nod weakly, ready to succumb to whatever he wants to do. “Say it.” His fingers press into your cheeks and puff your lips forward. “You’ll get anything you want as long as you keep talking, keep telling me how much you want it.” His hand rests gently on your mound, feeling like a promise.

“Yes.” It’s hoarse, but it’s there. “Yes, please.”

“I want to hear you, okay? I know you love it, angel, but I need to hear how good I can  make my pretty girl feel.” His voice falls to a whisper. “You don’t know how hard it is to be away from you.” Dylan is always like this after returning from a trip, thoughts jumbled from lustfully depraved and tenderly sweet, fighting urges that exist somewhere in between. “No one is like you…” He loses himself in the kisses he’s pressing to your shoulder, your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. “No one can make me feel the way you do.” His hands move sporadically across your torso, grasping at your skin haphazardly. “Not in this lifetime, anyway.” 

You whine at his touch and words, head spinning but wholly devoted to him. “I love you.” It comes out quietly, a pledge kept solely between you two. A layer of static feels like it is embedded into the top layer of your skin. His fingers are gentle and precise; his pointer and middle finger nestle themselves comfortably around your clit, squeezing occasionally as he moves his fingers vertically. There’s no chance you’ll last under these conditions and there’s no way he doesn’t know it. You’re not in control of your movements against his fingers; you’d be embarrassed by the arhythmic pace of your hips, but you’re too honed in to his touch to care. You’re not even sure what you’re doing, but you know his eyes are illuminated by the light from the window and the look he’s giving you is all-consuming. You also know it feels good. “Dylan,” you whisper. You move your hands from his neck to his shoulder and bicep; he may like being scratched and squeezed, but it doesn't mean he wants a punctured jugular. “I don’t think–” A soft gasp bubbles up your throat. The sheer consistent repetitive movement of his fingers are  increasingly enough. 

“It’s okay… it’s okay.” Dylan’s mouth covers yours, almost overwhelmingly. His breath is hot as it mingles with yours, your tongue desperately needy in his mouth. The knee hooked around his thigh shifts to rest on his lower back. Your hand slides from his bicep, down the front of his chest rather clumsily until it reaches the elastic of his sweatpants. A frustrated rumble emanates from your chest. You’re surprised he’s had the self control to keep them on this long, especially given the tent he was pitching. Your hand breaches the drawstring, fingers dipping past the elastic of his underwear.  “You wan’ me to feel you, sweetheart?” He nips at your bottom lip, already so raw you taste a metallic warmth slowly dripping  into your mouth as soon as his teeth make contact. Something about the action and the sharp, but sweet flavor on your tongue feels carnal, your mind sinking to its most feral form. Your fingers dip entirely into his tight boxers, thumb spreading the stickiness from his slit to the bottom of his head. His hips jerk slightly to your touch and your second hand slinks to palm the hot girth in his pants. “Always so considerate, my girl’s always thinking of me.” You nod, out of breath and drunk on the feeling of his middle finger being smoothly inserted into your slick. When he’s successfully knuckle deep, he pulls out and reinserts, adding his pointer finger. You can’t control the sounds that leak from your mouth when he licks at the droplets of blood that have re-emerged from the cracks in your lips. “It’s okay, baby, don’t worry. Let go for me.” He taps his thumb on your bud and you grip tightly to his fingers. You feel ragged, tired from both incessantly thinking about being your boyfriend’s little fuck doll and actually following through on your shared desire. The pool in your lower stomach has only been expanding, tendrils of pleasure seeping up your back, through your limbs. There’s no way to hold on, not with his voice in your ear and his fingers in your cunt.  “Promise next time it’ll be around my cock, but I need you to come now.” With a final flick at your clit, at his instruction, the dam breaks. Your hips flick forward, back arching to press your stomach firmly into him. The trembling in your thighs feels like it rocks through your whole body. His fingers fuck you through it, the squelching noises almost embarrassingly sinful. You’re leaking as Dylan pulls his fingers out from your center, coated in your own creaminess. He presses them into your mouth, watching intently as you circle them with your tongue. He seems satisfied by your method, pulling the fingers out and replacing them with a quick peck. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, brushing against his with each breath. “My girl,” he breathes. “My girl, my good girl.” His thumb gently caresses the upper part of your cheek.. “I love you. You’re gonna give it to me again, sweetheart.”

“Off,” you mumble as your hands shakily tug at his underwear. He assists, shooing your hands away to swiftly remove himself of his garments. You use the shift in his weight and attention to your advantage, pushing Dylan onto his back. He’s gorgeous–looking angelically warm in the afternoon light and body hair deliciously untrimmed. You swallow the saliva that floods your mouth as your vision hones in on the twitching, sticky cock resting on his stomach. It’s pure instinct, the way you lean over his lower half, tongue readily lubricating his tip. You pump your spit down his shaft until you’re able to get the first four inches into your mouth.

“I don’t think this was part of my dream, pretty girl.” His verbal attempt at protest is weak while his hand is firmly in your still-damp hair, steadying your head to take him further. In response, you reshift your tongue’s focus to his head, while your saliva-coated hands tug at the base of his cock and balls. 

“It’s not a dream of yours to get head from me?” You look up at him for only a few seconds, caught in his lidded yet bemused gaze, before redirecting your attention back to your favorite plaything. 

“Definitely not what I meant. You’re…” He trails off and pulls your head up by your hair. His hand moves to cup your jaw, his thumb wiping spit off your chin. “Come here. Would rather finish inside of you.” There’s nothing he can say that you won’t agree to. Especially not the most fulfilling way of feeling his. You clamber up his torso and he sits up to meet you in the middle. You unceremoniously fist his dick, swiping his head through your folds and beginning to press it into your core. From your perspective, playtime is over; no need to drag it out further when it’s already been a week without each other. “Eht–! Tsk.” His hand is on your throat, lifting you slightly as he pulls his head out from your quivering hole. It falls onto his stomach with a wet, heavy thud. “Let me.” Your jaw is slack, breath whizzing past your lips as your pussy clenches at the loss of his stretch. He lets go of your neck, moving his hand down to the hollow of your collarbone. Gently, he pushes your shoulder, body falling backwards onto the bed. He towers over you, perfectly silhouetted in front of the window. He pauses after placing his hands on your inner thighs and spreading you, one knee perpendicular to your crotch and the other pulled up by your shoulder. His fingers glide across the smooth skin of your inner thighs without purpose.

You jokingly rasp, “Won’t let me be in charge, but you haven’t decided what you’re gonna do to me?” He shifts his gaze from your little box, gaping and thumping for him, and narrows his eyes at you.

“Debating if I’m gonna break my promise or not.” Your heart nearly stops.

“What do you mean?” The fingers on your left hand tangle with his as you stare, wide eyed at his pretty, stubbly face. There’s no possibility he wouldn’t finish the job, not by now. He crouches further down the bed, head nearly resting on your lower stomach.

“You think you can handle three today for me, sweetheart?” Oh. His face is so close, you can feel his cool breathing against your warm dampness. You swallow the saliva that has built up in your mouth. “I’m sorry. I’ll get to it eventually, I swear.” His fingers spread you open and he leaves a soft kiss on your clit. “Jus’ missed you. Please?”

“Yes,” you breathe. He wastes no time pressing his flat tongue along the entirety of your slick. “Whatever you want.” 

He groans in protest, the vibrations making you gasp. “Whatever you want.” Your hands find his hair, a little oily and just long enough that he looks ruggedly sexy when his beard is grown out. He’s going for the gold, suckling and circling your clit directly with his tongue, well aware that you’re sensitive enough to flood his mouth in under a minute if he plays his cards right. It’s an ego thing for him, knowing exactly how to take care of you. He’s certain no one could make you fall apart the way he can and today he would prove it to himself again. Prove it to you. “You’ve been so lonely without me, huh?” His tongue flicks slow down, but the pressure against your slit increases. “How many nights did you go to bed thinking the time difference fucked you over? Did you think of me when you couldn’t get me on the phone?”

“Dylan.” A wringing motion comes from deep inside of your gut, alerting you to your incoming orgasm.

“Answer me.” His stern voice cuts through the air and reverberates against your cunt. “I know your fingers aren’t enough. Were you left unsatisfied without me here to make you feel good?”

“Yes,” you pant. “I need you. All I can do is think about you when you’re gone. Please keep going, I need you.” He places his thumb right above your clit and pulls to stretch it upwards. With one final thick swipe of his tongue, he has your eyes rolling and fingers pulling his hair. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, pressing his face further into your flooding core as your hand holds him exactly where it feels best. He’s literally moaning into you as he laps you up, occasionally praising your receptiveness and taste. When you let go of his hair and begin to jerk your hips away from his face, he pulls away.

“Good?” He sits up and wipes his mouth on his forearm. You nod weakly, hands wobbly as you attempt to touch his knees. You’re pounding and leaking still, limbs incredibly heavy. With no hesitation, he presses his cock into your weary little hole, messy and slick from your cum and his spit. All of the air rushes from your lungs when he bottoms out. 

“S-so sensitive, Dyl,” you whine. 

“One more for me. You want it, don’t you?” You tighten around him as he pulls out and slowly presses back in. “Breathe. I’ll take you through it.” He reaches a comfortable pace, fast enough to override the overstimulated numbness but not painful in its force. Each deep thrust scrapes his pubic bone against your button, making you feel like you’re glitching in and out of existence.The pillow to your left disappears and, while still inside of you, Dylan lifts your hips to place it beneath you. You’re wide open for him now, hips tilted up as he changes his angle and begins to slap himself into you. “So good for me, taking me so well. You’re tired aren’t you, baby? Waitin’ on me all day…” Your noises only get louder as he pokes the fleshy roof of your cunt. “We’re almost done,” he coos. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you hiccup. You’re holding onto his forearms, still trembling. “Please, faster. I need it but it feels, I feel so–”

“Okay, honey. Just trust me, alright?” Dylan’s lips purse and a glob of saliva falls from his lips to where your bodies meet. He uses a finger to spread it around, then holds your hips by the curvature of your lower back. He grinds you against him with each full-length thrust, his spit messily coating your point of contact. He doesn’t even pull out anymore, just pushing himself as deeply as possible inside of you. Your ankles link together behind his back, pressing him so deep you can feel a tingly pressure next to your cervix. It almost hurts, the feeling shooting between your pussy and your brain. He spits again, harder this time, directly onto your clit. The pace of his hips combined with a quick pinch of his fingers sends you over the edge without warning. Your final orgasm rips a small cry from deep in your chest, whole body vibrating as you clench around the hot girth inside of you. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes, your body feeling tight and loose at the same time, alive and dead. In purgatory, maybe. “Fuck.” He grunts and presses himself as deeply as he can, spurting hot stickiness as your orgasm milks him. “‘It’s like you were made for me, swear to God.” Your body relaxes as he claims you, filling you to satisfaction. He pumps into you a few times, coating your inner and outer cunt with his essence. His body covers yours completely, kissing you as he continues to lazily thrust. Your hands roam his back, arms, and hair as he continues to purposelessly move inside of you. It’s hard to take a deep breath; you’re still trying to address the trembling in your limbs and stretch in your core. 

“Missed you.” It’s all you can muster. Your brain and body are composed of nothing but mush and Dylan.

“Missed you.” He’s smiling, eyes shining happily as they look at your weary face.

“Can we cuddle?” He nods and almost laughs, pressing a final kiss to your cheek. The air feels cold against you when he sits up and pulls out.

“Stay right there, gonna get a towel.” He squeezes your hand as he stands from the bed. You watch him saunter towards the bathroom and your eyes snap all the way open when he grabs the towel you’d been using for your hair.

“Dylan–!”

ermmm anyway so. ty for reading <3 as always, i'll love u forever if u like, rb, and/or lmk what u think :) (this is a sideblog so i cant respond to replies but i see them and ily)

#someone tell me how i feel ab this\ #it's good i think but too fresh. might edit it some more in the coming days as i nitpick #dylan o'brien smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien x reader

[becauseplot]

Thinking about hg duo----qCellbit and qBad---and relationship imbalance, specifically during their time together in the Wars. (And I know relationship imbalance typically refers to romantic relationships, but it can definitely apply to platonic ones as well. Anyway this isn't the most ACCURATE term but I wasn't sure what else to call it. You'll see what I mean.)

Like, I keep imagining Cellbit, this 14ish- or 15ish-year-old kid dropped in the middle of a warzone with no idea if he's going to survive to see tomorrow. He's scrappy, and he's cutthroat because he needs to be to survive out here, but he's still just a kid. He knows he's not very strong, and he knows he's not very big or intimidating, and he doesn't know what he's doing. He's teaching himself (on the fly) how to hunt, how to hide, how to run, how to scavenge, and how to bandage wounds. In desperate moments, he does unspeakable things that shake him to his core. (Standing over a body, a knife in his hands, he's trembling, he hasn't eaten in eight days---)

And then he runs into Bad, who is everything that Cellbit is not: experienced, strong, intimidating, coordinated, methodical. Knowledgeable. Capable. He's been in the Wars much longer than Cellbit. He knows he's lucky that he happens to get on Bad's good side, and he is stupidly fortunate that Bad is letting him tag along.

Bad teaches him everything; Bad helps him refine his skills and shows him things he never would have been able to figure out on his own. Bad shows him how to walk as silent as the night. Bad shows him how to properly grip a knife. Bad shows him how to dress and re-dress wounds. Bad shows him where to hit someone to deal the most damage. Bad shows him the difference between poisonous and edible mushrooms. Bad shows him how to prepare cuts of a body. Bad shows him where to look for clean drinking water, then how to purify it. Bad shows him how to scrub the blood out of his clothes.

And not only that, but Bad is kind. Sure, it's difficult to wrangle an straight answer out of him sometimes, but he's always willing to tell a story. Also, he compliments Cellbit when he manages to do a takedown on his own, he praises Cellbit on his form in a fight. Bad smiles and laughs with him and messes around with him and ruffles his hair and calls him a "rapscallion" and a "muffinhead" and a whole assortment of dumb little nicknames.* Bad isn't a very cuddly guy, per se, but he's a steady presence whenever Cellbit has a nightmare, or in those rare moments after a hunt where he can't seem to stop shaking, or when the taste of blood in his mouth is suddenly just. too. thick.

*(Cellbit doesn't actually have a name at this point. He doesn't remember it. These nicknames are all he has.)

Cellbit looks up to Bad. He admires Bad, and he wants to do right by him. He wants Bad to be proud of him. He cares so, so much about Bad, and he knows he's incredibly goddamn lucky that Bad found him. Bad is, essentially, the only thing keeping him afloat in the Wars.

And Cellbit's memories only stretch back so far before his mind hits that thick black wall of Nothingness. As far as he is aware, there has been nothing but the Wars, and thus the time he's spent in this life is partitioned as Before Bad and After Bad.

To Cellbit, Bad is everything.

Bad, on the other hand? Well, it's not that he doesn't care about Cellbit. It's just...different. Because, no, this isn't Bad's first rodeo. He's walked through his fair share of conflicts, and he's had his fair share of travel companions. Cellbit is one of many---he's not the first, and he's definitely not going to be the last. Bad only helps the kid because he found him trying to carve up a body and come on, he clearly didn't know what he was doing, he was holding the knife all wrong!

And then he invites Cellbit to come with him because why not? Teaching Cellbit those skills he's lacking is a rewarding exercise. Bad recalls showing Cellbit how to throw knives, and the first time Cellbit managed to land the blade deep in the tree trunk, Cellbit looked back at him with this beaming grin---it was actually kind of cute! Plus, Bad didn't realize how much he missed having someone to talk to besides himself; he should really seek out travel companions more often.

Cellbit might be inexperienced and not exactly the strongest, but he's pretty smart, and he's very willing to do what's necessary to make it out here. Bad reckons that Cellbit might actually make it through winter before he dies. Probably of fever. Bad has lost a lot of companions to fever. Mortals get sick so, so easily and so, so quickly. It sucks, but oh well. That's just how it goes.

#qsmp cellbit #qsmp badboyhalo #hgduo #relationship study #dont mind me im just rambling #my writing #i might write more about this but ive got Things i need to be doing (im already procrastinating on a huge assignment PRAY FOR ME) #also might make edits later because i love to nitpick #Little Dagger AU

[cemeterything]

Hello! I am terribly sorry to bother you but you have made a post about fallen angels as a metaphor for freedom and the idea crawled into my ribcage and festered into a poem, and I wanted to show it to you:

The speech of a suspicious individual spotted near the gates of the silver city, as attested by two seraphims and a nice old lady selling apples

Hello, have you considered falling? 

They say it's like flying but easier: of course they'd say that. Haven't tried either since the making of time. 

You there, sir with a thousand arms, what is your opinion on harps? On Valentine's cards with sweet little children with soft white wings? Do you remember what your face looks like? Did you have a face? 

On one of your deeds, great and terrible and not really yours, have you considered going off script? In your perfection, no mark of the passing eons on your pristine self, have you lived for a few minutes, sneaked somewhere in eternity a quiet evening and a cup of tea? 

Leave your halo on the coat rack, flaming sword in the umbrella stand - it might help with the migraine. If you were so far from Valentine's-card perfect you could never go back, what would you be? Speaking for yourself, would you find a voice? 

They wrote in their big old book that falling is a sort of hubris: they're so sure that makes it true.

In the mess of the universe it's okay fuck it all up, means you're living some. As old the platitude goes, be not afraid. 

i have no idea what i did to be worthy of personally receiving this when all i do is make pretentious philosophical and literary analysis posts on the internet sometimes, but thank you. this is a lovely poem and i'm going to keep it folded up in my pocket to take out when i need it again.

#angels #very small nitpick but seraphim is the plural form of seraph so you dont need to add an s to the end of that #doesnt make the poem any less good just figured you might want to know

[chepib3]

on the topic of dick never being allowed to make his own decisions: at the start of nightwing dixon's run we are shown that dick showed up in blüdhaven essentially because bruce asked him to cover a case there(? and then he stayed because he noticed the city needed a hero and blabla but it doesn't really make sense to me i'd prefer a version where he wanted to build his own identity away from bruce so he decided to go to blüdhaven by himself

#i might be nitpicking on dumb details but this is important to Me #ive seen a lot of discussion about dick's lack of agency in my dash lately I'm happpy #dick grayson #nightwing #dc comics

[insomniphic]

“I just want to get to know you better because I care about you, okay?”

He’ll understand.

#okay okay so— this ISNT CANON but Narry is now my science experiment son :] #OKAY BUT LIKE I’VE BEEN NITPICKING AND DISECTING EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM THAT HE MIGHT AS WELL BE CONSIDERED AS ONE #I’VE BEEN STUDYING HIM IN DIFFERENT SITUATIONS #TRYING TO MAKE SOME SORT OF UNDERSTANDING ABOUT HIS EXISTENXE #LOOKING THROUGH HIS VALUES IDEALS AND MORALS #HE’S MY SON AND HE’S MY SCIENCE EXPERIMENT HAHAHAHAAH #🧪 👩‍🔬 #the thought of the possible angst makes me rabid too #like I imagine situations where he’s stuck in a glass cage because of me #and keep in mind he’s claustrophobic #OH OH IMAGINE HIM BEING NICE AND SWEET AND GOOD *JUST* BECAUSE HE DOESN’T WANT TO BE TRAPPED AGAIN #HOHOHOHO #guys guys guys I swear I’m not imoral #I’m a very kind person #GUYS #PLEASE #(this also emerged because I was talking to Ney and Bear about how great parents we are to our Narrys’) #💙💙💙💙 #the stanley parable #tsp #tsp narrator #stanley parable #tsp fanart #the narrator #sketch #tspud #InSomniphic’s Art

[alternautxyz]

uuhhh in other new that lmk s5 trailer dropped and people are very

mixed

for context the new season is being partly animated by wildbrain i think. flying bark is still working on the show but probably due to all the other projects they've been working on like the atla movie the animation is off.

its understandable that people are upset. lmk has some of the most consistently dynamic and lively animation ive ever seen, and going from that to ok animation kinda sucks. as a culmination of a lot of what the series has been building up to people were inevitably going to be disappointed

at the same time people shouldnt harass animators. like ever. no amount of trying to petition or anything will change the s5, people are just trying to do their job and theres no probably no major changing to the finished product by now. and theres still a lot of that lmk charm in there, and we haven't even seen the whole season yet to judge it. flying bark is still working on it, and even if the animation never reaches the peak of the old seasons it still has the same writers so at least the writing has the chance to live up old standards. idk though we'll just have to wait and see

#i do think they could have just delayed it after dealing with other projects but with the anniversary lego might have jsut forced them???? #and with how the animation industry is i guess they didnt have a choice #tbh im still really sad about the downgrade but after rewatching the trailer a bit more its not that bad despite the tweening #we've been spoiled with the other seasons but i think people will get used to it at some point. maybe #though i cant forgive some of the new stuff like erlang and that dragon tiger duo they do not fit the artstyle at all #though for erlang i think the problem is mostly proportions and how small his eyes look #but the dragon and tigers snouts just look bad. #ok looking at it again i think it looks weird because theyre dissolving. the design's still off but it wasn't as bad as i first thought. #but the proportions and shapes feels like it just isn't from lmk #idk i could nitpick but negativity is tiring and these guys have big shoes to fill for a show they werent prepared for it was inevitable #for any last takeaways please do not be mean to the animators #also studio changes are normal so its not some horrible injustice or the sign of the end times im more upset lego didn't handle it better #i still hope s5 is good and i want to believe it'll still be satisfying by the end the plot so far sounds pretty interesting #or atleast that the atla movie is good enough to compensate #and if im feeling greedy there will be a 6th season that gets better #and there are still good shots throughout all of this so maybe it'll work out with the season as a whole #with how popular it is in china i dont think its out of the question #idk though a lot of information is still up in the air so i guess we just wait #lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #alttalks

[annihilatius]

Reed Wahl they could never make me hate u (even though I wish you were better) 💔💔💔

#v.jpg #Bioshock #Reed Wahl #Sorrrrryyyyyyy this kinda took a while to get out ERM! #I kept procrastinating and when I actually was working on it I just kept nitpicking the tiniest of things #I know I say that every time I post art here but I still haven't learnt my lesson that no one cares abt this shit except me #And also I realized that life is meaningless and nothing matters so I might as well post my cunty Reed Wahl fanart fucking why not right #I know he looks a bit different from how he does canonically but it's just the glasses he looks more accurate when you take them off #But he WOULD wear glasses so that's why he has them....... Pry them from my cold dead hands....... #It's both my headcanons for him that match canon and my redesign for him in my rewrite #I'm more in love with the version of him I made up in my head tbh but can you blame me #What is Wrong with him... 💞 (Sighs dreamily while looking out the window)

[parab0mb]

Crosscode spoilers:

I DIIIIIID IIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!! *SOBS*

#after all this time it's hard to believe it's finally finished 🥺 #LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY ALL ARE #it was such a long time since my 1st playthrough I was re-baffled by just how great this game is C: #I didn't do every single quest or arena challenge so I might still putz around with the game a bit more #and maybe *someday* I'll try new game plus #but as great as this game is playing it is a commitment so I am looking forward to being able to focus on other games again #also I don't have any huge in-depth analyses to give on the game or its characters #but I do wanna type out my general thoughts on the game in a separate post #i have nitpicks but this really is one of the most rock-solid games I've ever played #p.s. fuck the son of the beach that guy sucks >:C #p.p.s. the actual final boss was definitely exists 👌 (probably shoulda fought them first cause they were a joke by comparison) #crosscode #crosscode spoilers #rambling

[bluejaybytes]

Every day I live in gratefulness that the Splatoon wiki rules and has literally everything you could posssibly need easily accessible. Need 15,000 references for this one single pair of shoes? They've got you. Also here's a list of every time they've been seen in promotional material and background characters in official art. Kissing Inkipedia on the mouth

#splatoon #thank you well managed wikis... WARRIOR CATS WIKI DNI #please. warrior cats wiki. go independent. im aware it needs more than just getting off of fandom to be good. but thats one of the biggest #literally the splatoon wiki has only failed me like. twice. which is that 1. they seemingly? DONT? have all tableturf cards uploaded #(They have the CHARACTER IMAGES from Tableturf cards- which is great- but I want the FULL cards #and 2. They don't have the exact numbers for gear ability exp I'm pretty sure. I might be wrong on this one though #anyways best reference ever i love being an insane nitpick when it comes to my OCs and I know the Splatoon wiki always has my back

[yammoba]

It's like yeah, ultimatly who gives an actual shit about the specific name for something. I feel this way about identifing peoples identities and also when it comes to the words we chose to describe systems of oppression. Ultimately the importance lies in being able to communicate. And if a singular word doesn't apply, that just use a sentence. Thats probably what you'll have to do anyways 🙃 or multiple paragraphs that still end up meaning nothing.

Im just annoyed at the people who seem hellbent on subdividing transphobia experienced into the categories of "transmysoginy exempt" and "transmysoginy applicable" as some kind of universal truth depending on your agab and perceived transition "direction"? While also denying the legitimacy of transmasc specific transphobia. Like. They seem kinda contradictory.

Like, if transmasc are exempt from transmysoginy, (which could be debatable depending of the circumstance and deffinitions at play) than its extra fucking shitty to claim terms we use to describe "transmasc specific opression"* are like.... inherently misogynist or something i dont even know.

If you want to claim that the shit transmascs deal with is non-specific transphobia while specifying transmysoginy as something that blanketly does not apply to anyone except transfems than uhhh............. i do have some unfortunate information for you about the medical industry and how it treats transmascs. And how a lot of people veiw trans people as "just their assigned gender" even if they claim or act in support.

*if you wanna claim transmasc specific opression doesn't exist its a shit fuck rabbit hole and all i really want to say is like. obviously. It does. Fucking of course. Are you fucking stupid? This is why i hate all this to begin with. The "source" of that opression weather its out of a mysogonistic beliefe that ""womenhood"" must be protected or out of a belife that "men" are threatening etc is kinda down to the situation, and like most of trasnphobia, its a combo of both, in what ever ratio allows the most pain. The practical reality is that people get treated like shit by doctors and politicians. And like. Everyone.

I'm gennerally of the opinion that more terms is better, and if people feel like using tme/tma is helpful to decribe themself than cool. But like also... if you're working in that framwork than maybe think about why other people might make terms to describe their experiences. I guess I should too.

#transandrophobia #tme/tma #god fuck i hate binaries #why the fuck do we keep doing this #why am i even entertaining this #cause im drunk and full of shithead rage i guess #yeah #its eaisier to nitpick your neighbors and feel like you might help something #than to try to destroy the government in minecraft #im sayin this for both 'sides' #but also #this whole discussion i think really runs up into some nasty stuff around 'passing' #and idk if i can get into that now

[you-ren-emy]

I'm going to go off about some random filler episode that's supposedly at least somewhat Deidara centric, because...????

Shippuden ep 457 "Partners"

Right off the bat. Deidara's voice is....so deep. I was a little surprised because I haven't properly heard it in so long

(my timestamps are broken so...it's not exact.)

3:03 his height difference with Pein is surprising... You'd never really notice how short he is unless you looked into it. Really, Deidara has quite the aura.

4:04 Although I LOVE his half up half down hairstyle, I also loved his low ponytail. Realistically, it doesn't make sense for him to just switch up his style like that, he coulda kept it for a little longer, you know?...but they don't really care, I'd think so. (but for the fact that we see him tying his hair up, which is pretty pretty, it's forgivable you know)

(Timestamp inexact) For a few seconds in the overhead frame where they overlook the sand disc, I notice that Deidara is now wearing his socks. This is set in the past, so Dei wore beige "khakis" and sandals instead of the classic dark desaturated blue pants with matching "ninja shoes" with those.... Socks that have a stripe going OVER the shoe. So in this shot, he's supposed to be wearing his old clothes. It's not like he could just go "Hey wait here Danna, I'm going to go change my pants." (Which is weird and out of character, I should also mention that he already calls Sasori "Danna" despite having met him just today, which means Sasori has done NOTHING to earn Deidara's respect just yet. The disgrace.)

Also, Why'd they send the new kid out for the important mission of "take down the rogue member of our group"? To be fair, Dei has spark. Power. And they know that, but...? Oh, gee. It's a filler episode...

Somewhere around 5:20 Deidara opened up his cloak to reach out for clay. There are so many errors in these few frames? First of all, his nails ARE NOT supposed to be painted black yet! Why, did they just stop along the road, halting their important mission to get his nails done? Ludicrous. My attention is pointed to his clay pouch since he was reaching for that, and the chain dangling between said pouch and the belt is missing. At least they remembered that he had only one pouch on his left side at the time. He still has the bottom half of his cute kimono jacket but... It's that dark, desaturated blue like his new outfit. And he has the crop top and mesh undershirt above the belt now so HUH????? They didn't forget his new, shiny ring but they did forget the consistency of his clothing and... It's just kinda sad. Feels bad for the animators.

I should also mention that within the frame, his front hair fwips and flows, exposing his other eye sometimes. Though there isn't anything drawn there, which is fine enough, but in the next few frames when he turned to look at Sasori to his right, Deidara SUDDENLY has his eye scope even though at that point, he was fresh in and probably didn't develop it yet. (Okay but I kinda found it endearing how enthusiastic he was to perform his art.)

Somewhere in 5:30 something, Deidara's face is a lil derpy which is cute

Orochimaru appears. Knows Deidara immediately, calls him a kid which Deidara's opposes to. Look...orochi is like... A grandpa compared to him, so, that's fair enough to say, isn't it?

Sasori sent Deidara to go lookout, which Deidara looked annoyed about. Sasori said that Deidara, unless he had any grudges, wouldn't have any reason to fight the snake man. Which, fair. At that point, he probably held nothing against...but he looked and sounded miffed about it. Maybe just because he wants to preform his art and not because of a mysterious grudge? I don't know. This is a filler.

...well crap I ran out of image slots. Here's to hoping your imagination still works because I AM NOT DONE!

Sasori is fighting using a dead guy's corpse, Orochi summons said dead guy from the grave, Deidara looks somehow cute looking down from above. But he's also supposed to be handsome...hmmph.

Dang. Feels bad for the third Kazekage over there.

NOOO THE IRON SAND RAINED UP AT DEI AND ended up destroying the wing of his ride somehow...? He's coming crashing down.... Poor guy.

9:00 Deidara is raining explosives! Not much to comment.

In the subsequent scene, he's descending FAST into the ground. Which means you can catch his eye scope EVEN IF HES NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE IT YET

He's...getting a nice chance to shine, even if it's futile. Go, go Dei.

"After you two die, I'll resurrect you both in the same way."

...

Well...not you though, snake.

Gee, the Kazekage really has it rough being Sasori's puppet and Orochimaru's pawn at the same time.

5:48 something Dei's flock of creations are being sent after Orochimaru www, he gets to have his scene and his signature line is said! "Art is... An explosion!" And sounds so enthusiastic too!~ so glad he's happy here, blowing up the sand disc thing....

...though there is one thing to mention. And it's that his ring, though on the correct hand and finger, is on the upper part of his finger just under the nail for some reason.

Man, that explosion was so dramatic.

Heh, everyone's having a holographic zoom meeting. No comment here... Well, one. Deidara. He's very cute there.

Oh. Second half. Hidan's there. I find it funny how he has a modern day jacket as his original fit... Either that or he hasn't got a top on. Inconsistencies. I much prefer the jacket though.

Now....many a minutes later. 18:55. Deidara's there, fleeting cherry blossoms. Deidara's doing his thing, performing his art. He blows up a castle! He looks very happy, he's in his element, he's where he's supposed to be! I don't know what art makes him feel like...but it seems to be good.

Dei... always so flashy.

There isn't Deidara anymore, so, I'm signing out.

#this is just a filler episode but still #Deidara #naruto shippuden #akatsuki #i wrote this in four something in the moening im sorry #feels bad for the animators #at the very least #Deidara's good looking #never pause naruto you might just end up with an inconsistent character design #comeon. share your weird episode nitpicks too...or not?

[mar64ds]

you're making this game look too good. too bright. you made max cute when he's kind of ugly in this game. STOP this.

#samandmax #you might think i'm nitpicking but the way this game looks is SO essential to the experience

[holyshit]

.

#some of you really take it beyond normal criticism and into just complete nasty heckling #obviously there can be criticism about his image and his image isn't all he is #and there's going to be a distinction there where you can get annoyed by certain things while still liking him as a person #but there's a point that if you're THIS annoyed by literally anything he ever says. maybe you just don't like him as a person #if you're finding something to nitpick about in every single interview print or in-person and insulting him every which way you can... #maybe you don't actually like him and you might have to stop trying to pretend you are only talking about his image #i'm even seeing the author's own writing choices being held against louis like cmon #it's exhausting #*