#Also i think Jelena would kill him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

borathae · 2 years ago

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Sibibaby my thoughts are mess rn (thanks to u 🥲) but i’ll try to write what i think about the last chapter 🥺🥺

1- okay first of all i have something to say for Jimin; You can go wherever you want you selfish prick don’t manipulate Taetae (you know he cares for u so much and you’re using it) and don’t upset my babies anymore 😠 (And you should beg for mercy on your knees in front of my baby oc because if she wasn’t in the picture…you know what would happen to u my friend 🤗)

Puahagah that silly man made me cackle so much HSHAHAH like seriously no joke i’m all serious and mad but than I’m cackling because of him haha🥺

3-hmm the fact that Jimin broke Sophie’s heart in 1956 🤔 made me suspicious for no reason

4- Jealous oc 🤭🤭 She is so cute istg i’m gonna punch or bite something 🥺🥺

5- I really want Tae and oc to spend time together again 🥺 I’m a little mad at him (because he acts like a stupid naive little boy) but i know his heart too and i just want them to be happy together again 🥺💜

6- I’m so sorry for Yoongi 😭 No joke when he said that he loves her with all his heart and every inch of his soul and not because he’s a glutton 😭😭 And the fact that he looked normal again after oc said that she loves him over and over 🥺🥺🥺

Sibibaby no joke i’m in love with all of your stories male leads ( seriously i mean it) but MV!Yoongi is so special to me he’s my all time favorite 🥺🥺🩵

8- I’m so proud of oc 😏 She was so hot while she’s defending herself AND scolding jimin and Taeboy 😏 go girlie I support you 😍

7- The witches 😱😱😱😱😱 omg I didn’t see that coming what the fuck that’s what i call a plot twist 😱😱 (And i kinda think that oc is a witch or something too but who knows I expect everything from you hahah)

8- Not me romanticizing everything and think about Yoongi’s reaction after he realized something wrong 😌Like he killed that witches before she found him but he became weak suddenly and he probably knew that he would not be able to help her and she was scared and screaming his name….so if it’s okay with u Sibibaby can i ask Yoongi Boongie what he felt and thought before he lost consciousness 😭?

9- I hope oc will be okay after that 🥺 Like it’s so traumatic for both Yoongi and oc 🥺 She’s probably so scared (for her family) and i have a feeling that Yoongi would blame himself again… he probably think that he couldn’t protect his family and especially oc 😭😭 gosh i just want to read the next chapter ! 😭😭

I honestly think that Jimin is gonna think about himself for a lil. idk I have a feeling that the conversation with OC AND yoongi's confession kinda made him reevaluate his own self for a bit

JFSAJDFJ this was so funny hahahah also when he went "i hope he gets hit by a car" JFADJ petty boy jfajjja

RIGHT?? she's been acting suspicious ever since we got to know her 👀

FJADJSFJ that part was so cute afjdjsfa

same same same :(

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA!! HE DESERVES THE FUCKING WORLD :( also not you saying he is your fave omfmgm GIRL ogc!kook and aaol!kook are quaking in their boots rn fandnfa

istfg she is so hot you have no idea how much I want her fand

FJAJDSFJA I'M HAPPY YOU GUYS DIDN'T EXPECT THE PLOTTWIST FNADNSF

wait I'll do that down below fnadfna

gosh yes I can see both of those things happening :(((((

Okay now to answer your question about Yoongi's feelings. The reason why he was still able to run to her (kinda) was because he was a Creator and therefore it took a while longer for the magic to overwhelm him. Sophie and Shirley got like a "magical signal" from Suzy to start their plan. They tranquilised Jelena with magic and then attempted to do the same to Yoongi, which failed big times as they both got killed by him seconds later afnadf. Then he already heard OC scream for him, but by that point he also felt the magic infilitrate his body which meant he could only really stumble to get to her while his muscles grew weaker and weaker and his eyesight got darker and darker. He was definitely scared out of his wits, mostly for OC of course but also for himself because it's been thousands of years since he last felt that helpless 🥺

#asks: magnus venatio #asks #seagulljk

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dhiabori · 5 years ago

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BLOODBLOSSOM ―

here’s another drabble (okay, i lie, it’s 3k) featuring julien! this time the other relevant characters are tatian, the leader of the revolution/anti-royalist faction, and jelena, an arms dealer and sadist.

CONTENT WARNINGS ― graphic depictions of whipping; tying up; panic attacks; self-destructive behaviours

TAGLIST ― @doveotions

“Jelena, I assure you, it’s unnecessary. And foolish.” Tatian sighs; controlling Jelena is like putting a steak in front of a starving dog and telling it not to bite.

No. It’s like collaring a wolf and expecting it to drop its prey at your feet; there’s nothing tame in her eyes, in her body, leaning against the windowframe. Everything from the scars on her neck to the dagger dangling mindlessly between her fingers says predator, predator, predator, an insistent thrumming in the back of Tatian’s mind.

If she’s a predator, an idle thought asks, who’s her prey?

Glancing up from toying with her dagger, she gives Tatian a sharp smile. He knows her teeth had been filed in prison, that all Nyrish convicts did it, but— he also remembers seeing those canines stained with blood. “The people would beg to differ.”

The people. The people whose houses she’s razed to the ground, whose sons and sisters and friends she’s punished, toyed with, a vengeful demon.

Tatian takes a step forward, meeting Jelena’s eyes. Keeping his voice smooth; dissent is a distraction, a threat, a loss of momentum. Affording her time he doesn’t have is out of the question.

“The people can differ all they want. Julien is my property, and I won’t allow you to play with him.” He can’t help glancing back at Julien, kneeling at Camille’s feet; the picture of devoted obedience. It’s almost pathetic, how eager he is to demean himself for a scrap of affection — almost, but he still looks more a crowned prince branded and humiliated, leash resting casually in Camille’s lap, than Tatian has ever looked in the mirror.

All Jelena does is shrug, and even that’s a calculated movement, tense with the kind of power he’s only seen in a caged panther. The kind that says, come too close and you won’t live to repent it. “ Tell me, what do you care about more?” Tossing her dagger up, she catches it by the blade. Show off. “Your property, or the loyalty of the people outside?”

“It’s which,” Tatian says, taking another step, slowly circling her. Letting his hand run over the lacquered chest, not deigning to look her in the eye. “Which do I care about more. And don’t pretend to speak for the people.”

“Oh, but they want it. You know they do.”

“They might, but the people have a nasty little habit of regretting their choices. Their desires.”

“And you know all about that, don’t you?”

“What?” It’s all Tatian can get out, but he sees it now, the corner he’s backed himself into. He’s taken this wolf in, fed her, collared her, forgotten it isn’t the collar that keeps her at his heel, it’s the meat. Forgotten that wolves don’t care what’s theirs or what’s his -- all she knows is hunger, and if he won’t feed her, he’ll become her next meal.

Jelena peels herself away from the windowsill, stepping towards him. Slow and deliberate, spinning her dagger between her fingers as she walks so it catches the light in a biting flash. This close, he has to look up to her, has to smell the sulfur and brimstone on her breath.

“Do you regret hiring me?” The words are spoken, but the dagger gives them their edge, wandering carelessly through air. A little closer to Tatian’s face than any employee of his should ever bring their weapon. “Because the way I see it, you need me. You need me to put swords in your men’s hands, bows on their backs.”

“You need me.” Even as the words leave his mouth, cracking under the effort of keeping his voice steady, Tatian knows they’re not true. He isn’t her only buyer.

Glancing over at Camille, all he gets is a pointed stare, a silent rebuke. Not here, not yet.

Jelena laughs, almost a snarl. “Do I? Because I thought I could easily take my business elsewhere. The only thing keeping me playing by your rules is what you can offer me. Your money -- and your pet.”

She looks over to Julien, hungry hungry hungry. More than that, victorious; Tatian wants to scream in frustration, wishes he had a dagger of his own to claw out her glinting eyes, but there’s nothing he can do.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he says, voice taut, “Because if you break my property, I can assure you the consequences will be severe.”

All he gets in return is a derisive snort as Jelena strides over to Julien, snatching the lead from Camille’s lap. He does nothing to stop her, only shrugs, removing his hand from where it has been tangled in Julien’s thick, brown curls.

Wrapping the lead around her hand, Jelena jerks Julien to his feet, sending him stumbling a little. “Get up, Your Grace. Your people want to see you.”

Tatian half-wishes Julien would scream, struggle, fight for his life like a deer -- but all he does is freeze like one, a single desperately apprehensive glance before his face softens into resignation and he nods.

With that, she begins to stride out, pausing as she pushes the tent flap aside to say to Tatian: “I can assure you, medvedezdha, you’ll get your pet back.”

Hearing her footsteps recede, Tatian releases a sigh, that turns into a frustrated half-scream.

“Shit,” he hisses, feeling his breath begin to hitch and race, he should’ve seen that coming, should’ve done something. Shouldn’t have seen her without a guard, now he’s lost control, and he’s spiralling, falling, slipping the maw of the past rushing up to swallow him --

He rounds on Camille, because it’s the only thing he can do, and he has to do something, or his skin might split from the itch that rages beneath it, the mounting frustration.

“Why did you let her?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because she wouldn’t hesitate to slit my throat with that dagger?” He can only be grateful that Camille’s words still have a bite to them, that he doesn’t stand -- if he did, it would mean Tatian was slipping again, drifting further from the careful reality he’s constructed.

Tatian sighs, trying to steady himself. “Saints, I should’ve stopped her. She’s out of control.”

Sighing, Camille twists a curl of hair around his finger. “She is, but she has the upper hand now. She must be anticipating a reprisal.”

“Or she thinks she can get away with it,” Tatian returns, glancing towards the tent flap. Knowing she’s taken Julien out there, when he can hardly manage the walk from the castle to the makeshift meeting room -- and he shouldn’t care for Julien, he knows that, but all the same he can feel the affection sinking its roots into his chest, winding its thorny branches around his heart.

His instinct is to run from it. Run from the wolf, then lay your traps -- it’s always been the de Carachelles way, the reason why they survived when the de Carcassonie fell. Yet something in him rebels at the idea. Something in him baulks at leaving Julien to suffer, at letting Jelena break his toy without a witness; it all culminates in a breathless realisation.

“I caused this. I should watch.”

Not waiting for Camille’s response, Tatian pushes out of the tent, surfacing like a drowned man coming up for air. Only the fetid afternoon heat does nothing to relieve him, only clogs his lungs with more doubts as he hurries past the soldiers. What if she kills him? What if the people aren’t on her side? He can’t decide which is more dangerous, only that he has to see for himself. That maybe Julien de Vere is more trouble than he’s worth.

The camp passes in a blur of canvas and familiar, grimy faces as he rushes to the edge, to the sound of a murmuring crowd. They’ve come from every nearby village, drawn in by Laetitia and the promise of food; now the stand, jostling, in a semicircle. Whispers ripple through them like the chittering of birds, all eyes directed to a single, gnarled cypress tree.

Forcing himself to turn his gaze to the tree, Tatian feels his breath catch in his throat.

Julien. She’s tied him to the tree, forcing his cheek into the rough embrace of its bark, face turned towards Tatian. Oh, please let there be anger. Bitterness, fear. Anything would be better than what he can read in Julien’s wide, doe-brown eyes: acceptance.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Jelena’s voice cuts into Tatian’s horror, broken-glass sharp. Only half as sharp as the whip that dangles from her hand as she circles the tree like some demented kind of ringmaster. “You asked, you shall receive. The Crowned Prince, for your entertainment.”

She cracks the whip at Julien’s feet, forcing him to shy away against the tree. Its bark grates against his skin, leaving raw scrapes.

“So.” The whip snaps out again across dusty ground, rearing back, a rattlesnake in its fury. Tatian flinches. “How many lashes?”

Fluttering nervously, the crowd mutters amongst itself. Two hundred or so glittering eyes, nattering beaks, all eyeing Julien with a kind of beady apprehension, the kind that makes Tatian feel sick. You brought this on yourselves, he wants to shout, you fucking decide. You asked for this, didn’t you?

He should be asking for it, too. His mother would. His sister would, she’d be the one with the whip in her hand, breaking the figurehead of the de Veres as they’ve broken her. He should be baying for Julien’s blood, but Tatian finds he can’t. Every time he tries, he chokes on the blossoming of care that’s grown in his chest, caging the hissing, scratching thing with its thorns.

At last, a man steps apart from the crowd. Swallows, then speaks, eyes still fixed on Julien.

“Twenty-five,” he murmurs, and when Jelena glares at him, he says it louder. “Twenty-five lashes.”

Again, uncomfortable whispers flit through the crowd. Jelena only nods, stepping back as if to begin -- but she pauses, lowering the whip.

Tatian hopes for a reprieve. Knows it won’t come, but hopes anyway, watching her approach Julien.

“Someone should really cut off all this hair,” is all she says, almost casual as she gathers Julien’s curls, pushing them to the side. Exposing his back, unblemished except for a scattering of moles. “It’s just impractical.”

His stomach twists at the irony, remembering running his fingers through those same curls. All Tatian can remember thinking is they’re so soft.

Jelena steps back again, more deliberate. Brings back the whip, then --

It snaps down like a thundercrack, and Julien flinches, the muscles in his back taut and straining as his shoulders stiffen. When it falls, there’s a welt, a stark red line picked out in horrible contrast to his dark, brown skin, making Tatian’s stomach twist.

Someone in the crowd calls out, one.

Before Julien can even catch his breath, the whip comes down again, again, breaking his skin. Blood wells up along the line as his chest heaves with desperate gasps; red blood, jewel-blood, petal-blood that Tatian wants to wipe away, but he can’t, he’s rooted to the spot with mute horror. As if whatever was growing in his chest has sunk its roots into the ground, not finding enough sustenance in his body.

The crowd keeps crowing: two, three. Still, Julien doesn’t scream.

Four and five pass in a sickening blur, only the crack of the whip indicating any blows have fallen. Shuddering from the impact, Julien whimpers -- still not quite a scream, but his knees are beginning to give way, the tree his only support. Even that is hardly a mercy, the rough bark rubbing his skin raw every time he flinches further into its embrace.

Grinning, Jelena recoils for another lash, toying with her helpless prey. The whip snaps back, biting into a fresh welt.

Six.

Julien screams, bloody and desperate. Tatian thinks he feels the pain too; a gasp wells up in his throat, a bud about to blossom and fill his mouth with bloodstained petals. It feels like someone has pulled the world from under him, leaving him reeling, bile rising in his throat.

Coward. Coward, he thinks, as the whip cracks again and Julien’s screams mingle with the crowd’s counting.

Seven. Eight. Nine. Julien’s knees have buckled, and he slides down the tree, leaving a smattering of blood from the scrapes on his face and chest. None of that compares, though, to the mess Jelena has made of his back, of his composure: his breath comes in choppy, strained gasps, tears trickling down his cheeks to mingle with fever-sweat.

By the time number ten comes, all he can do is sag against the tree, head dropping in defeat. Tatian wants to tell Jelena to stop, wants to collar and chain her again, but he knows he can’t. He can’t, unless he wants to offer himself as a sacrifice to her ravening jaws. All he can do is watch and choke on the agony of seeing Julien sob, knowing it’s his fault, his fault.

He finds his mind drifting to his mother’s garden, her beloved rose bushes. How beautiful they are, how much careful cultivation they require. Compared to them, the straggling thing in his chest that cries out, aching to hold Julien, is withered and shriveled, but it still aches.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Tatian doesn’t even want to watch anymore, doesn’t want to hear Julien scream, then cough, then gasp for breath. He hardly notices the crowd quietening, no longer crowing the numbers. Only staring, hollow and nervous.

Jelena steps back, admiring her shuddering, suffering masterpiece. Her work is enshrined on the heaving canvas of Julien’s back, blood welling up like pigment and trickling down from a multitude of welts. She’s reduced him to a pathetic, cowering thing, and it’s so wrong, so fucking jarring to see him humiliated and broken, stripped of his regal dignity.

The whip, her paintbrush, twitches lazily in her hand; for a moment, Tatian can’t understand why she’s stopped.

“Sigolène?” Only then does Tatian glance round and see Jelena’s lieutenant, watching sullenly. “My arm’s tired.”

“I--” Sigolène looks like she’s about to say something else, stepping forward like an antelope approaching a lion. Unsure whether she’s prey or partner.

“Five lashes.” Is all Jelena says, shoving the whip into Sigolène’s hand.

She looks like she’s about to object -- Tatian’s seen her scars, the luxury of a shared bathhouse, knows how many lashes the army gives for insubordination. But Sigolène simply swallows and nods.

Her lashes come thick and fast, cracks like fireworks exploding behind Tatian’s eyes; there isn’t room for Julien to scream between them, visceral noises of pain tumbling over one another on their way out. Even without the crowd, Tatian counts: fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. Blood, running in rivulets down Julien’s back, damning, damning red.

When she’s done, Julien is left gasping for breath once more. His hair, so carefully tucked away, has come loose, splashing down his back in a cascade. Matted with blood from his wounds.

For a moment, Sigolène freezes just like Tatian. Stares at what she’s done in, the whip sliding from her hand as her chest heaves, rise-fall, rise-fall.

Then she runs.

Tatian wishes he has the right to run; wishes he could be anywhere else, but his legs are still wooden, still rooted to the spot. All he can do is watch as Jelena picks up the whip again, tossing her Nyrish jacket aside. Beneath it, her scarred arms are taut with power.

As she draws back the whip again, Tatian realises his own breath is lurching in his chest. He can’t breathe, can’t even control his own body, and he feels himself teetering on the edge, feels the abyss calling to him. The itch curling through his body, unable to be chased away, even as he digs his fingers into his wrist, scratching, desperate.

He’s lost control. Of her, of everything, of Julien -- even of his future. It hinges on victory, and Jelena can tear that victory apart on a whim, if she thinks chaos would taste better.

Twenty. Julien chokes on his own scream; Tatian feels an agonising blossoming in his chest. Pity. Concern.

Twenty one. The crowd are staring, all staring, beady button eyes and sun-browned skin and they’re human but they’re allowing this. He’s allowing this.

Twenty two. Panting, Jelena draws back again. Stop stop stop stop -- he can’t stop it, he isn’t in control, he can’t breathe --

Twenty three.

Twenty four.

One last time, the whip falls, a crack that snaps through the air, cleaving the crowd’s silence into murmurs of -- relief? Pity? All Tatian feels is dizzy and sick, eyes fixed on the stained-glass destruction of Julien’s back. Some of the welts are almost concealed by a blossoming of blood, more leaking from the wounds as his shoulders heave, struggling to suck in a breath that isn’t a scream or a cough. Wherever there isn’t blood, his back is slick with sweat, the salt inevitably dribbling into the cuts to create a cocktail of agony.

But it’s over. Jelena bows for the crowd, brushing her own sweaty hair out of her eyes -- Tatian’s hit by the realisation that her sweat comes from the exertion, the clammy afternoon she picked to display her masterpiece.

His one consolation is that there’s no applause, only that frightened, fervent murmuring. Shame, that’s what it is. Shame they have no right to, because they asked for this, they fed the wolf. Yet he has no right to it either; he was the one to bring the wolf into his house, to offer it a place by the fire, to leash it.

Slinging her jacket over her shoulder, Jelena strides away, with all the satiation of triumph. Only -- she throws a glance back at Tatian, a smile filled with too-many, too-sharp teeth, sending a shiver twisting down his spine.

At least he’s no longer rooted to the spot; at least he can move, feel like he’s doing something as he rushes to Julien’s side.

“Julien?” Kneeling, Tatian’s heart is in his mouth as he fumbles for his dagger, clumsily trying to saw through the rope that binds Julien to the tree. He casts a quick glance at the crowd, but they haven’t noticed. They’re too busy fleeing, flitting away like starlings, unable to face the destruction they’ve caused. Cowards. “Julien, look at me--”

And he does. Of course he does, because it’s an order, an opportunity to make Tatian happy. He looks up with those melting eyes, even as his breath hitches desperately, even as he sags against the tree.

“Did I--” Julien can barely get the words out without coughing, pain written all over his scraped face. Voice laden with pathetic hope. “Did I do well?”

Tatian’s stomach drops, thorny vines of affection tightening around his heart. He knows, but knowing and seeing are two different things, separated by this kind of visceral pity.

No-one should be praised for what Julien just went through -- but Tatian doesn’t have the courage to withhold the words.

“Yes, you did,” he murmurs, almost reaching out to run his hand through Julien’s hair. Stopping short when he remembers Jelena. “You did, and it’s over now.”

Slumping down even more, Julien finally slides off his knees with a gasp of relief, a hoarse thank you.

There’s a soldier lurking nearby, practically squirming with discomfort; Tatian motions her over, knowing he doesn’t have the time or the luxury to comfort Julien anymore.

“Get him back to our tent and give him some water,” he says, giving his words a deliberate edge. “And don’t break him any more. He’s a valuable asset.”

The soldier nods, slinging Julien’s arm over her shoulder and pulling him to his feet. As usual, he doesn’t put up a fight, only follows like a lamb wherever he’s led.

Only once they’re gone does Tatian let himself glance down at his hands. They’re shaking, the itch raging beneath his skin, forcing him to claw at his arms. Now it hits him harder than ever, how much danger he’s in, the corner Jelena’s backed him into: if it wasn’t clear enough already, his fucking cowardice has proven how he can’t control her.

She can afford to let the wolf free now, knowing he has to keep feeding it. Probably betting on him not having the courage to punish her.

Lurching to his feet, Tatian begins walking back to the tent. Back to Camille -- but he hardly feels able to face him now, knowing Camille would’ve been able to stand it. Camille isn’t afraid of wolves, would’ve known how to properly muzzle Jelena.

The inevitable realisation stabs him all over again, a knife in the gut.

Jelena has to go.

#whipping tw #panic attacks tw #whump #whumpblr #whipping whump #willing whumpee #collared whump #les amoureux #oc: julien #oc: tatian #oc: jelena #oc: camille

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theinsanecrayonbox · 5 years ago

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Digging your tabletop pride icons! I like the filter effect they have! :-) Do you by any chance have a textpost of the characters and their sexual orientations/gender identities? I recognise some of your characters, but not all of them, and there are pride flags I've never seen before, so I'd like to learn more. :-)

well thank you. it was just a bit of photoshop work.

i do not have a list of that made up yet...so lets do that now lol

let me preface this though with two points.; 1) i am 1 of 2 females who play regularly in my dnd group of 6 (sometimes 7) people, the other is Dixon. so i am usually the only female in the party itself. i have only ever played 2 (and a half) male characters in the 6/7 years i’ve been playing; every other male character i do in my tabletop group arts are story characters, not player characters. i am also 1 of 2 (sometimes 3) people in the group under 40. romance isn’t really a big part of our storytelling...no matter how hard i try to put it back in there ^^; 2) i identify as quoisexual myself, so all my characters have that to some degree in them just because i’m the player and you bleed into your characters that way. i also use goggle as a helpful tool to learn about all the different identities, so my knowledge and interpretation is fallible.

ok so list now;

Paige-Cupioromantic, meaning does not feel attraction, but desires that type of relationship i went with this, because Paige....well...is Paige lol. as one player once said “it feels wrong trying to date her, because she acts so young and innocent” and to be fair, she isn’t really out here looking at people as romantic partners. she wants friends, she loves her friends. also you know, mortal embodiment of an eldritch horror terror, so...

Cizma-Fraysexual, meaning has strong attraction until a relationship is formed and then the attraction fades she’s the opposite of Paige, and this is mostly based on her “relationship” with InkShade honestly; she believes she’s madly in love with him, but he refuses her, so she pursues him more. i think if he gave into hr advances and reciprocated, she’d realized her feelings weren’t what she thought they were. i admit, this one’s new to me so my interpretation could be very wrong, but that’s how i feel it fits Cizma.

Ada-Quoisexual, meaning has trouble distinguishing between romantic and sexual attraction as i said above, my default is this, so if i don’t know a character’s leanings it’s their too (yes jelena is my icon and is this too fyi). BUT in fairness, it suits Ada because of how she was raised; she has very little idea how to properly people here. and she is developing some sort of a relationship with Til. also, her first dice bag was my pride bag with this flag.

Gauzra-Lithoromantic, meaning has desires of attraction, but does not want them reciprocated again, kind of supposed to be in opposite to Ada, and seeing as i still don’t know Gauzra’s personality this could change...but from my interpretation of her right now, this feels right. plus the flag goes with her color scheme.

Rosalba-Demisexual, meaning does not feel attraction until a strong bond is formed at the time i was playing Ro, this was how i identified primarily, but it still suits her i think. if you met Rico after meeting her, you would never know WHY they were a couple, but those two kinda fought against two life times to be together (three if you count the accent into godhood). Ro’s also never been good at getting close to people, but once she did, you’re stuck with her.

K’nessan-Nonbinary, meaning does not identify with a binary gender scale; Marsic, meaning is attracted to masculine qualities ok, ok, *technically* since Ness is a hermaphrodite they should be inter-sexed BUT they do prefer the gender neutral pronouns (followed by the masc; never use “it/that’ or you will die)...and their color scheme matches the flag, so... ^^; i also included in the list the Marsic because Ness does have a preference for male partners

Nemo-Asexual, meaning has no desires for attraction Nemo is nothing but a hero, so that pretty much screamed ace to me...plus it matched her color scheme

Mekala-Aromantic, meaning has no desire for attraction i wasn’t really sure about her, since you know 2 failed campaigns in a row didn’t give her much room to grow, but i could see this working. she’s not really looking for anything, more searching her past.

Jass-Bisexual, meaning attracted to both males and females Jass is my sabretooth, so my sabretooth headcanons are canon for her lol. we only saw her have a relationship with fantasy!Deadpool in the game she was played, but hey

Tesla-Electio Aroace, meaning has no desire for attraction, whether sexual, romantic, or tertiary i admit, this one is completely new to me, so my interpretation could be very wrong, but the idea that this is one that is uninterested in any form of attraction suits my viral android very well. again, she has gone on record saying that “the biological imperative for emotions is distractive” (more or less) which is especially funny since she was played in a valentines game where the goal was to let Cupid infect a town with horniness to make babies; Tesla was the only one unaffected and actively trying to stop that. so yeah.

Theo-Pansexual, meaning is attracted to any gender yeah, Theo’s just out there doing and being anything

Sean-Bisexual, meaning attracted to both males and females; he however has a stronger male preference i admit, one reason why Sean is bi and not just gay is for the “half and half” joke...but yeah, he started the game with a boyfriend, he would kill everyone for his boyfriend, he woudl die for his boyfriend.

Vitanya-Gynosexual, meaning attracted to feminine qualities still learning new things as we do this, but since Vita has had little development (but will be getting more) i’m kinda aiming to have her be a bit more into girls...we’ll see how that pans out

Lokaj-Androsexual, meaning attracted to masculine qualities originally i had him as something else, but when i saw that description i liked it better, since he ended up with Arkos and all

Arkos-Transgender, meaning identifies with a different physical gender than the one assigned at birth; Gay, meaning attracted to men going more off the latest version here than my previous one for this. but yeah, he’s just straight up trans here, not intersexed, and his tribe is cool with it. plus being a tribe means not enough money to get magic to physically change anything...but he’s ok with that. in his tribe it’s less what you have and more how to act.

Rikkar-Bisexual, meaning attracted to both males and females mainly because he did have a fiance...even though they weren’t super into the idea, they weren’t against it either...but he’s far more into Ark

Tarn-Lesbian, meaning attracted to women she has been a loud raging lesbian since day one, and nothing will ever change that. not even one continuity having her in a forced, bested in trial by combat, marriage to Starlord basically. she will only go for a dude if he’s a dragon...and he’s gotta be a hot dragon...and even then it win’t lasting dude.

Reyzah-Abrosexual, meaning one’s attraction is constantly changing or fluid Reyzah started as a knock-off tarn honestly and never got to thrive too much. but compared to her siblings, she was always the one learning and trying to figure herself out, so this fits well.

Margus-gay, meaning attracted to men Margus, similarly to his sister, started off as quiet nervous gay, and by the end of the adventure he had himself a doppleganger husband and confidence to boot, so yeah, my baby boy grew up good. admittedly a lot of his self-confidence issues were more from his half-orc heritage, BUT that fed into the “no one would wanna date me cause i suck” mentality. so yeah.

Nikkos-Asexual, meaning feels no desire for attraction he’s Margus’ twins, and was always intended to be some sort of ace. the joke being the Ironbrood kids are a full set; likes girls, likes guys, figuring things out, likes doughnuts. i waffled over making him a more defined type though...but since i’ve only played him for like one session as a background character, i’m not sure where he’s at. so general ace is fine. he loves and supports his siblings, and is best uncle to Margus’ kids anyways, so s’all good.

Jelena-Quoisexual, meaning has trouble distinguishing between romantic and sexual attraction i know i said up in Ada’s that Jelena was this too, but here i am saying it again since she’s my actual icon and not in the reffed to image set. i haven’t played her, so this could change...but i’m very self projecting on her during quarantine to begin with, so yeah she’s quoi until proven otherwise ^^;

so hope you found this informative...and that my information isn’t too terribly off ^^;;;

#kp answers asks #dnd stuff #pathfinderstuff #my ocs #my writing

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reeree1500 · 6 years ago

Text

The New Boy

Luke x Reader

How did you come to find yourself in this position? Sitting across from probably the hottest crackhead you’ve seen by far and playing a game of spin the bottle.

Oh Yeah....

You were lying on the couch trying to have a nap, after coming home from an exhausting day of work. It wasn't only enough that you had tons of shit to deal with and catch up with at school. But, you were forced to do everyone else’s jobs at your workplace making it your life that more stressful. After spending an extra 2 hours at work (without getting paid) and doing everything for everyone you just wanted sometime to yourself and if that meant sleeping on the floor, so be it. Just as you feel yourself drifting away to a peaceful sleep, a loud disgusting sound erupts through the air. And sadly for you, it’s right next to your face.

“TOMMY!! YOU LITTLE SHIT!!” you scream at your 4 year old brother, who's rolling on the ground laughing. Just before you are able to pick him up and swing him around you get a text from your friends. Rolling your eyes and wondering what they want now you open the group chat.

Lucia: YALL NEED TO LOG ON IMMEDIATELY

Lucia: WERE GOING TO A PARTY

Maria: I just got home from Church, now you want to go to a party?

Lucia: Mitch is going to be there and you know he just broke up with that whore

Maria: Let me ask Momma

Lucia: Alex is going to be there....

Maria: PICK ME UP IN 15 MINS

Jayme: Im hereee

Jayme: Where is we going

Lucia: It only took you half a century, but were going to a party at Kian and JC’s, because my boyfriend is going to be there

Jayme: ahhh okk

Me: .....

Me: are ya’ll for real

Me: wtf

I should really stay home, but if I do I might kill the little shit...

Me: Pick me up in 20 mins

After getting dressed and putting on the new outfit you bought recently at Urban Planet, you were finally picked up by the girls. Maria was driving and you could hope for was not crashing into anything.“GET OUT THE FUCKING WAY, YOU SHIT!!!” Maria yells for the hundredth time...

Whilst you tune out Maria’s screaming and Spanish songs, you look around and see Lucia and Jayme gushing over some new guy they found on the internet. You wondered to yourself how the hell you were friends with these girls...

“WERE HERE!” Lucia and Jayme scream. Maria being the special little midget she is, breaks abruptly and you end up hitting your head on the dashboard. “Omg, are you okay?” Maria asks while laughing. “Just peachy” is your reply, but all you wanted to do was kill her. She parks the car, and then you all proceed to enter the Mega packed house, you could smell the weed from like a mile away.

As you make your way into the house, you lose track of both Maria and Jayme. “Oh great, we lost the little one” you yell to Lucia over the loud speakers. Lucia doesn't reply to you, but keeps on looking around as if she's looking for something or better yet someone. “There she is.” Not too far from you you are able to make a small form wrapped around a large one. “Is she with Alex? I can’t see from here.” you reply. “You couldn't even see them if you were right in front, because you're blind af.” Lucia says to you. Its true that you cant see, but hey thats not your fault, its probably the environmental factors as you recall from your psychology class. “ Well she looks like she's having fun, so lets just leave her to it.” Maria and Alex had just gotten together a couple of months ago, he was this sweet danish boy who had just transferred to your school, he was a well renowned model in Denmark and Maria was lucky to have found someone so sweet especially after her past relationships.

After almost dying in a sea of sweaty bodies dancing to the beat of the music, you are able to find Jayme in the kitchen mixing herself a couple of drinks, whilst talking to a few boys. Just as you turn to tell Lucia that you've found her, Lucia is already across the room flirting with Mitch. She's had a crush on him since 2 years ago were she “accidentally” bumped in to him in the hallway and faked a sprained ankle. You gotta give it to her though, the girl is determined. Not long you found yourself outside on the porch sipping on some Vodka Cran. You were a drinker, but you figured since all your friends are getting drunk right now you might as well be the sane one.

“Is the party that boring that a pretty girl like you is sitting by herself?”

You look up to find who the words belonged to, when your green eyes met his enticing blue ones. You felt as if the earth had swallowed you hole and couldn't find the words to say anything. You just stared at him, at those blue eyes that reminded you of a calm ocean and infinite sky. His gentle fingers caressed and held your cold ones. “I’m Luke, and you are...”

“Jelena.” you reply slightly looking down as your hair cascades down to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Well its a pleasure to met you Je-le-na.”

You felt as if you would collapse right there into his arms. The way he took his time to pronounciate your name was probably the most angelic thing love ever heard.

“You know that’s a really pretty name for an even prettier girl” Luke says.

“Well thank you.” You say once agin trying to hide your blush.

His hand ever so slowly lifts up and goes to brush your hair away from your face. “Don’t hide from me beautiful” God could this boy get any hotter was all that you could think of. You couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol or the fact that you were so close to him, but you could've sworn you almost kissed each other. “Luke get your ass in here we’re about to play Spin the bottle!”says Ashton, one of the most popular kids in school and who also happened to be friends with Luke. As you attempt to regain your composure, it all goes sideways when Luke grabs your hand and whispers in you ear with a husky tone “Come on Jelena, I think we should play and maybe we could have some more fun.” But before you can protest to playing the game he holds you by your waist and pushes you through the crowd to where a couple of people are playing the game. Luke sits you down beside his best friend Michael and his girlfriend, and then goes to sit in front of you. Luke can’t help but smile at your confused face, you thought he would sit beside you, considering he's the one that brought you to play the game any way. However, your confused face soon turns to a bright red tomato as he mouths to you...

“This way I can finally kiss you and not get interrupted.”

#luke hemmings #luke 5sos #5sos #5 seconds of summer #request #anonymous #luke hemming imagines #luke x reader

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missandrogyny · 7 years ago

Text

The invitation arrives on Louis’ desk one Monday morning, innocuously placed on top of some tax forms and a bunch of papers Louis needs to look over. It’s quite large, made of thick, fancy, scented paper, with a little red bow wrapped around it, and the instant Louis spots it, he knows exactly what it is.

So he does the logical thing to do. He drops a stack of papers on top of it and promptly ignores its existence.

---

Of course, like all logical plans, this one fails, simply because of Louis’ failure to consider external things. Or in this case, the presence of one, rather annoying best-mate-slash-office-mate.

“Did you see it?” Liam demands as he enters the room at lunch, no pretenses whatsoever. “I made sure to personally leave it on your table.”

“Why hello, Liam,” Louis replies, all faux-brightness and cheer. “It’s so nice to see you on this wonderful day. How are you? I, myself, am doing well—I had a really good sleep last night, and look,” he says, gesturing to the succulent on his table. “Katniss bloomed a flower.”

Liam stops. “I thought its name was ‘Protractus’.”

“Well, I decided that ‘it’ was a ‘she’, and that she was a strong independent woman who didn’t need no man.” Louis declares, touching the flower lightly. “Or a Peeta, for that matter.”

Liam looks confused. “Whatever,” he says. “But did you see it?”

“You mean did I see your handsome face today? Yes, I did, thank you for stopping by.”

“No,” Liam says, crossing his arms. “Although…thanks. But no, I was talking about the invitation.”

Louis plays dumb. “What invitation? Wait, are you finally going to stop wearing that weird chain? Are you inviting me to your place for a ‘Farewell, Liam Payne’s Chain’ party?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Stop changing the subject.” He marches over to Louis’ desk, and starts ruffling through the papers on there. “I know I put it here somewhere.”

“Oi, Payno,” Louis snaps, trying to shove Liam away. “That is my work you’re disturbing, and as you know I take my work very seriously—”

“—Aha!” Liam says, pulling out the invitation from under Louis’ work forms. “Here it is! You put all your stupid shit on top of it!”

“I did not,” Louis snipes, gathering up all his paper. “I thought it was a tax form.”

“What an incredibly fancy tax form,” Liam deadpans. It’s actually quite a good deadpan; Louis would be proud if it was in any other situation. “Here.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’? Open it, Louis.”

“I said, no.” The words come out much more emotionally than Louis intended them to, and he clamps his mouth shut, shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t need to, Liam, I already know what’s in it. Wedding invitations all say the same thing.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t just any wedding invitation,” Liam says. “This is Zayn’s.”

“All the more reason not to open it, don’t you think?”

“Louis,” Liam says, his voice taking on a gentle tone. “You promised you wouldn’t be bitter about this. You promised you would go.”

And yeah, Louis did. But that was a promise he made at a shitty time in his life, under shitty circumstances. He was sad. And sad people make stupid promises, especially to people they’re in love with.

“Open it,” Liam urges, handing the envelope to Louis. Louis takes a moment to look at the calligraphy of Mr. L. Tomlinson at the back, takes in the thick, fancy, iridescent envelope and the big red ribbon around it.

He hates it immediately.

Still, he opens it, simply because Liam is still there and watching him. The stupid ribbon falls off easily, and the inside is exactly as he expected.

We are cordially inviting you to the wedding of Jelena Noura Hadid and Zayn Javaad Malik on Sunday, March twenty-fifth, ten o’clock in the morning.

And on the right, a little post-it note stuck on the stupid, scented paper.

See you there, best man! – Zayn

The thing is, distantly, he knew that. He knew that Zayn’s getting married, knew that he was going to be Zayn’s best man. But seeing it on paper just made it more real, more permanent. It’s too much, all at once. Louis wants to burn the invitation and crawl into a hole and never come out.

Still, he forces himself to stay calm, to tear his eyes away from the invitation, enough to smile at Liam. “There,” he says, and even he can hear the sudden shakiness in his voice. “I opened it. Happy, now?”

Liam, however, isn’t looking at him. “No,” he says his eyes stuck on the post-it note. “Fuck, I told him not to push through with you being his best man. It’s not fair to you.”

“It’s fine, Liam,” Louis says, even though it is really, decidedly not. “I mean, I did promise.”

“But it’s not fair to you,” Liam repeats, growing heated. “Fuck, I’m going to call him right now and tell him—”

“No, Liam, it’s fine,” Louis insists. “Really. I promised I’d be his best man, and I am. Or at least, I will be.”

Liam pins him with a look. “Even with all the shit?”

Louis blows out a breath. No, he wants to say, but it’s been three years, and he’s moved on by now. Or at least, he should have moved on by now. “Well I promised I’d do it, and I will. How I feel doesn’t matter here.”

“But it should matter,” Liam says. “Fuck, just last week, you got piss drunk and were still crying about—”

“I know, Liam, I know,” Louis interrupts. “But it is what it is. I mean, you were the one going on and on about how I promised I’d go to the wedding.”

“As a guest,” Liam emphasizes. “I didn’t know he would really go and make you his best man.”

“Well, he did.” Louis shrugs. “It’s not his fault, though. I really did promise.”

“You know you don’t have to keep promises like that if it’s detrimental to your well-being, right?”

“I’m aware, Liam.” Louis deadpans. “But I’m also aware that I promised, and, well. I don’t want to break Zayn’s trust in me.”

It’s stupid—stupid and shitty and ridiculous of him, but. He thinks he’s just cursed to be this way, forever weak for a boy who is now getting married to someone else, that he can’t even break a stupid promise he’s made while drunk and crying.

And Louis knows that Liam knows this all this; Liam was there for the entire thing, for the downfall and the crying and the desperation and the begging and the final, quiet acceptance. He’s been there since the beginning and he’s still here now, even though it’s been three years and any normal, sane person would’ve moved on. But Liam, annoying as he is most of the time, is also incredibly perceptive, and right now he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t put into words what he’s thinking.

“You know if you let yourself, you’ll find someone else eventually,” he just says.

“I don’t need anyone,” Louis insists stubbornly. He strokes the Katniss’ flower with a finger. “I’m a strong, independent person and I don’t need to find anyone else.”

---

See, here’s a few things people should know about Louis and Zayn’s relationship:

One, Louis has known (well, known of) Zayn since the beginning of sixth form, when he was going about playing football and trying to get a good education. He’d always been intrigued by the dark-haired, middle-eastern boy who liked to lean against the old brick walls of their school and smoke cigarettes, while still being able to get good grades in all of his classes. The two of them had first exchanged words in their final year of sixth form, immediately hitting it off—so much so that when they found out they’d be going to the same uni, Zayn had automatically asked if Louis wanted to be his roommate.

Two, Louis and Zayn dated for two years. It had started off as an accident—a kiss when they had both been drunk and high, during a party in their last year of uni. They hadn’t spoke of it after, but it just kept happening again and again, that one day, in their shared flat, Zayn had said, “fuck it”, and turned to ask Louis if he wanted to go out on a date. Louis, not knowing what possessed him, had said “yes”, and, well. The rest was history.

And three, Louis is still pathetically, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Zayn. Even though it’s been three years since their break up. Even though they remained friends, best mates even. Even though one night, when he was smashed, Zayn pulled him aside, eyes sparkling, and said “Fuck, Lou, she’s perfect. I think I’m going to ask her to marry me. Will you be my best man?”

And Louis, who had been just as smashed as Zayn was, and was willing to do anything Zayn asked him, teared up and said, “Yeah, of course!”

Which is why he’s here now, stuck in this predicament.

Louis is aware, of course, that all this makes him sound like a Twilight novel, but it’s just. It’s been three years, that’s all. Three years and not once does Louis think that he’s moved on, not once has he met someone who made him feel how Zayn did. Who made his heart race with excitement, with euphoria. Who made him feel high without drugs, like he was walking around on a cloud. Who made Louis feel everything—all the highs and the lows—with startling, vivid clarity.

Which means that there must be some merit to his feelings, considering that it’s been three years and they’ve just consistently been…there. Unchanging. Unwavering.

And whereas before he could ignore them, pretend they weren’t there, he can’t now because Zayn’s getting fucking married. He’s getting hitched. He’s entering into a lifelong commitment with another person, one that’s going to kill all of Louis’ hopes with Zayn and probably his last, only shot at love.

So there really is no choice. Louis has to stop the wedding, confess to Zayn, and ultimately win Zayn back.

---

Of course, sometime during the next day, it occurs to Louis that in order to get his plan to work, he’s going to need some back-up. Someone who’ll support him throughout this crazy, hare-brained plan. Someone who’ll have his back. Someone who’ll be there for him at the end, just in case things don’t work out as planned.

And it can’t be Liam, because Liam being the stickler that he is, will probably not allow Louis to try and stop the wedding. He’ll just end up telling Louis that he’s sorry and that he should move on and other weird shit like if you love him, let him go, which he probably got from those hipster Tumblr photos. And it can’t be Niall either, because no matter how easygoing he is, the whole debacle of Louis and Zayn is a sensitive issue for him, and he’ll probably go running to Liam about it the instant Louis tells him about his plan. No, for this, Liam and Niall are definitely out.

The problem, though, is that aside from them, Louis hasn’t really got anyone else. Sure, he’s got work friends, but Liam will immediately be suspicious if Louis takes one of them to the wedding, as he’s been trying to set him up with the people in the company to no avail. He could take his sister, but Lottie would probably just judge him for his pathetic-ness, and he doesn’t want her thinking that he’s pathetic. He could ask a random stranger on the street, but he might be slapped or punched for that.

Unless.

He’s reaching for his phone before he even realizes it, opening the contacts app and scrolling all the way down. It takes a second for him to spot the name he’s looking for, and although they’ve kept in touch these past few years—texting almost every day and engaging in random conversation—it’s really kind of a crazy idea. Louis has no idea if he’s busy at work, or if they’re at that level of friendship, or if he’s even willing to fly all the way to London.

But he’s all Louis’ got, and, well. It can’t hurt to try, can it?

The phone rings once, twice, thrice, before someone picks it up. “Hello?” A deep, raspy, familiar voice says, on the other end of the line, and Louis steels himself, takes a deep breath.

“Harry?” He says. “Hi, um. I was wondering if you’d do me a favour.”

#heyyyyyyyy #guess who's back #not me bc idk if im sustaining this #i just ran out of things to do so i started randomly writing #and uh #im actually liking it so far so i wanted to share but #idk!#i dont wanna pressure myself to finish things but ya #i like it #my writing

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williamtshakespears · 2 years ago

Note

will/jelena: 1, 2, 13, 15, 16

richard/michael: 21, 22, 29, 30, 11, 12

alex/adrian: 6, 7, 21, 27, 25

Whoo! Round 2!

William/Jelena-

1: Who is the most affectionate?

Jelena. But that's not to say William isn't a loving man. They both love each other very much. Jelena is just more likely to hold his hand, or give him a kiss, or hug him, or any other little gesture, at all hours of the day and night.

2: Big spoon/little spoon?

William is the big spoon, Jelena is the little spoon.

13: Who reaches for the other's hand first?

Jelena will usually reach for William first. She likes to hold his hand, especially if either of them need any subtle comfort.

15: Who wakes up first?

Jelena wakes up super early to make sure her husband has a proper breakfast and sometimes a packed lunch if she knows he's going to be super busy that day. Or if she has a nightmare. William only gets up earlier if he has a nightmare or if it's Jelena's birthday or a holiday, so he can surprise her with breakfast.

16: Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Usually neither of them give in to that temptation on work days, but on days they have off work together, it's usually William convincing Jelena that breakfast can wait until brunch, and they spend some extra time cuddling in bed.

Richard/Michael-

11: Who tops?

Richard. Michael is demisexual with a lower sex drive, so it's not often that he initiates, but even when he does, he's just not assertive enough to top. He absolutely prefers letting Richard take control~

12: Who initiates kisses?

I would say they both do, but I also think if pressed for an answer, I think Richard once again edges Michael out just barely.

21: Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

I would say Michael. He likes to dance, especially when good music is on and he can just feel the rhythm, so he'll pull Richard into a spontaneous dance when they're cooking, or when they're supposed to he doing paperwork, or anytime.

22: Who cooks more/is better at cooking?

Michael is Jelena's son. Of course he knows how to cook, and he learned from the best! He does love when Richard cooks though, or even better when they cooks together.

29: One headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart.

Michael is a natural-born reaper. That means he was never human, which means he isn't being punished like all the other reapers are. Which means he might not be Forgiven. Richard could be Forgiven at any time, and Michael would be left all alone...

30: One headcanon about this OTP that mends it.

Michael and Richard are quick to adopt a child, be it a natural-born reaper like Michael, or even a demon or angel child, or a mix. If a child needs a home and love, Michael and Richard are the ones to provide it.

Alex/Adrian-

6: What is their favorite feature of their partner's?

I am assuming we're talking physical features. For Adrian, he loves Alex's hands. They're beautiful and strong, capable of soothing him or their children running through their hair, or keeping them grounded with their warmth in his own hands, or killing any idiot who dares try to hurt their family.

7: What's the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

The biggest thing that changes for Adrian is how protective he gets. He doesn't have a lot of friends, and he's only had one or two others he's ever genuinely cared about in any meaningful capacity, and they have all been taken away from him. So when he realizes he has feelings for Alex, suddenly nothing in this universe or any other will take her away from him.

21: Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Adrian does love a nice dance. Whether that's at a fancy party in disguise or in the kitchen at 3AM.

25: Who needs more assurance?

I think they both do. Alex needs assurance she's not just a ruthless killing machine, that she is a person worthy of love and affection. And Adrian needs assurance that he's not going to be alone again, that he won't have to suffer from grief ever again.

27: Who would sing their child back asleep?

Alex. Adrian isn't too much of a singer. He would hum along, but he leaves the singing to Alex.

#I really do enjoy writing these #william t spears #jelena spears #michael d spears #richard laurier #alexandra coldwater #adrian crevan #undertakerslxt

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mundentauer · 7 years ago

Text

Hit the Floor and its Female Characters

SPOILER WARNING: Contains spoilers for Hit the Floor. If you have not seen until 3x11, proceed at your own risk.

So I’ve been bingeing this show called Hit the Floor for the past few days. I’m probably not this show’s demographic. I’m not a sports fan or a dancing fan. I don’t have anything against sports or dancing, I’m just more of the geek/nerd type of person-- anime, sci-fi, horror, fantasy. Those are more my type of genres. One of my guilty pleasures is family drama/soap-- Brothers and Sisters, Bloodline. Honestly, I would never have touched Hit the Floor because it was way off my usual genre comfort zones. But then I saw a photo of Zero and Jude, found out that Jude was Zero’s agent at the time and well, how could I not check this series out? (Because I am trash for the agent/talent trope no thanks to @distractibledingo ).

At the risk of having the wrath of fans rain down on me, I’m going to admit that I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t enjoy the show. Like I said, I’m not the demographic and I was only in it for Zero and Jude. I even skipped the first season after watching halfway through the first episode because I found out that Zero’s and Jude’s first appearances were in season 2. So I started there instead. But what I can say is that I am so over this whole bitchy girl being domineering and screwing people over trope. One of the characters in the show is Jelena Howard. She’s portrayed as a strong woman who uses psychological warfare to get what she wants and it’s so problematic to me that this is what the writers think that a strong woman should be like. She emotionally and psychologically manipulates everyone to get what she wants. In Season 2, we get an understanding of her: she has trust issues because she was raised in an abusive family where her father beat up her mother and she had to watch that growing up. That’ll fuck anyone up, yeah. But it’s not an excuse for Jelena’s actions in the season where, at the finale, her final move was to push out her fiance-- a man who spent a good portion of the season trying to convince some of the people who Jelena victimised the most that she wasn’t a bad person because the Jelena he knew nursed him when he was badly injured.

I appreciated the storyline where she made up with her mother while cutting ties with her father. I believe that at a certain point, you need to make a decision whether to cut off toxic people from your life and I supported her decision to do that for herself, even though at this point, I was still hoping that she would get written off the show somehow because her character irritated me so much.

This isn’t just a complaint that I have about Hit the Floor. I honestly just can’t when people assume that strong, female characters are only considered strong when they don’t have any weaknesses and/or are power-hungry and will do anything they need to in order to come out on top. I wasn’t even surprised when there was a point in the series where Jelena said she didn’t want to have kids and then she changed her mind and her doctor told her she couldn’t conceive because, well, we can’t have strong, female characters™ who also want to be (and are physically able to be) mothers. I’m over it. I hate these tropes. I wish people would stop using them because it’s just making society’s internalised misogyny even worse than it already is. Women shouldn’t be considered weak because they want to get married and have children. Strong, female characters are flawed and they each have their own ambitions, their own dreams. They can want to have a family and raise kids of their own, but they’re also free to not want this for themselves. They don’t need to be the Head Bitch In Charge all the time. And they sure as hell should have great relationships with other women in their lives.

My major disappointment with Hit the Floor was the toxicity that women in the series had towards each other: from the first time they met, Jelena hated Ahsha because she felt like she was competition. Sloane and Lionel were at each others’ throats because they wanted the same man (who, in my opinion, isn’t even that much of a steal, I mean he cheated on Sloane with her best friend when they were together and that’s kind of really douchey???). Jelena targeted Sloane because it was one way to get back at Ahsha and she wanted her off the team. Ahsha and Sloane hated Jelena and did terrible things of their own in retaliation for the things that Jelena did to them. Sloane tried to get back at Lionel for trying to steal Pete away from her. I mean, it’s a vicious cycle.

And all this girl drama is the main reason why I don’t like watching these kinds of shows in the first place. I hate seeing women being stereotyped as not being able to get along with each other and pitting women as each others’ enemies. This especially rang true for Hit the Floor because the girls are supposed to be on a dance team. I was hoping to see more them as a team and less of them power-grabbing and backstabbing but I guess that doesn’t make good drama, so whatever sells, I guess?

Another thing that disappointed me about the show was the lack of accountability that German and Sloane had for their actions. German literally killed someone. Granted, it was an accident and he was doing it to protect Ahsha but seriously? That damsel in distress trope bugs me even more. He’s always portrayed as some sort of protector because he’s supposedly always looking out for her. And then he ends up killing someone over it. I mean???? Honestly, that plotline could have been handled so much better. When he finally tells Ahsha that he killed Olivia (season 2′s main storyline and a scene that the season was kind of building up to), the show didn’t address how she felt about it. She worked closely with the woman who was killed and her death had affected Ahsha earlier in the season but now that she finds out her boyfriend killed her, the show doesn’t address how conflicted Ahsha feels about it at all. She doesn’t even seem scared that he might murder her in her sleep or whatever. The show doesn’t let German feel the consequences of his actions. He’s put on trial and convicted of the crime but he gets out of prison anyway because he has a talk with one of the major characters who is dying of a heart disease and she wants to give him a second chance at life. Even though he robbed Olivia of her chance to live out the rest of her life. They killed a female character just so they can give him a salvation arc. Fridging much?

And Sloane. Honestly, this plotline was such a hot mess. Basically, when events in the third season culminated in Jelena threatening Sloane and Ahsha, Sloane hides in Jelena’s office and shoots her. Through sheer dumb luck, Jelena finds a recording of what happened and finds out. She threatens Sloane that she will give this footage up to the police and she’ll be rid of her for good but Sloane asks her to wait until after Ahsha’s wedding. Honestly, I was sure that Jelena would go to the police immediately after because the series has shown her as petty and vindictive. But she does a complete 180 and she later tells Sloane at Ahsha’s wedding that she wasn’t going to tell the police about it. So even though Sloane shot someone (on purpose), she doesn’t suffer the repercussions of her action. Again, no accountability. And it doesn’t even make sense because this act of mercy is completely out of character for Jelena. Maybe she softened because she was thinking of fostering her best friend’s kid? Still, that kind of character development shouldn’t happen overnight. Then again, the series had her walking about the next day after she was shot in the abdomen so???? I mean I’m guessing that the writers feel like logic takes a back seat when it’s inconvenient to the plot? I’m not dissing anyone who likes the show or anyone involved in the production. The dance numbers in the show are amazing and it’s obvious how much effort everyone puts into the show. The production value is pretty amazing, especially the costumes for the dances. If you’re a fan of the show, then that’s great that you found something to enjoy. I just feel like there are parts of it that deserve a critical eye because when a writer thinks that they can get away with ignoring plot holes, they’re doing their fans a disservice. They’re also doing their characters a disservice by not giving them the chance to grow (as in the case of German and Sloane) by denying them the opportunity to face the consequences of their actions.

#mundentauer rants #mundentauer overanalyses things

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zerojudezude · 7 years ago

Text

My thoughts on episode 1 of Hit The Floor season 4.

well this is only going to be about Jude, so don't expect much, I might mention Derek and other characters.

As much as I am disappointed and sad with Adam Senn's departure from the show, I am gonna keep on watching the show. The explanation for Zero departure was shit as fucking hell, because Gideon would never do that. His relationship with Jude was his first relationship based on real feelings, he came out with Jude by his side, he showed his past to Jude, he was ready to risk his life for Jude, so saying he wasn't ready for more and ready for marriage is complete bullshit and we all know that, it would have been more believable if you said that he died than that he wasn't ready for more, for fuck sakes they were planning to move in together, in their own home, that they made together. Okay let's move on to Jude in Season 4, I am very sad that Jude is visibly suffering from losing Gideon (that wouldn't have happened if Adam freaking Senn didn't decide to leave the show) but he's kinda good with Noah. Let me be honest, at first it was super difficult to accept that there will be no Zero, but after seeing Noah and Jude together, kissing and everything my heart felt a little better. The reason my heart felt better is that with Jude and Noah being together gives more diversity, two gay man in a relationship not only that, the relationship is interracial, so it's more diverse, which I don't mind, so I can't wait to see what they will do with their relationshi.... But secretly I won't mind Zero coming in the middle of show to claim his Jude back, and I think all of us want this.

OK, Derek coming back was kind of unexpected, I don't really know how to feel about him being back (the 'drown bitch' still haunts me) What is also unexpected and unbelievable is the reason why he isn't with Ahsha in Miami. And Pete acting as tho his daughter can do no wrong.

Okay the two new girls are going on my freaking nerves. They are like Ahsha and Jelena in the first season. Bickering like little kids. The homeless chick (lives in her car, came from Chicago?!? to become a devil girl) is even more annoying, acting all jealous and secretly hating on the other girl without any other reason than the fact the other girl might outshine her. Suck it up, and work your ass out, don't act all envious without any reason.

Glad that Jelena is back, she was always great (loved her more that Ahsha since the beginning and I am glad that she decided to stay on the show and that she didn't lie like Adam, who never had busy schedule, Logan had such a busy schedule aka filming Dear White People, promoting the show, and she still came back.) and I am also happy that she kept on taking care of Miguel and is actually planning to adopt him and make it official, that boy deserves all the love in the world.

Pete's dead buuuhuuuuu, didn't even like him. I am not downplaying his dead, he had a hard time, finding out that his daughter aborted his grandchild and than going back to drinking after being sober for a long time killed him.

KYLE IS A QUEEN, MY ULTIMATE QUEEN BESIDE LIONEL.

#hit the floor #htf #zero x jude #jude x zero #zude #brent antonello #james larosa

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mastcomm · 5 years ago

Text

For Novak Djokovic, the Goal Is Still Titles, but ‘More Than That’

MONTE CARLO — Outside an office building not far from where Novak Djokovic resides, a Lamborghini was parked on a street lined with luxury hotels, restaurants and sports cars.

Inside, Novak Djokovic was talking about hard times.

“Ten Deutsche marks, I remember 10 Deutsche marks,” said Djokovic, the 16-time Grand Slam singles title winner who went into the Australian Open this week as the reigning champion.

As he spoke, he slammed his hand on a conference room table, just as his father, Srdjan, had once slammed a 10-mark bill on the kitchen table of their cramped rented apartment in Belgrade.

This was during the violent breakup of the former Yugoslavia in the 1990s. Djokovic does not remember precisely when, but he remembers his father’s words.

“Ten Deutsche marks was like 10 dollars, and my father said, ‘This is all we have,’” Djokovic said. “And he said that more than ever we have to stick together and go through this together and figure out the way. That was a very powerful and very impactful moment in my growth, my life, all of our lives.”

By 1999, Djokovic and his family had found a way for him to leave Serbia at age 12 for Niki Pilic’s tennis academy in Munich, the start of his journey toward the top of his sport.

Djokovic has shown remarkable resilience and drive, spurred by the memories of growing up in the midst of conflict, privation and uncertainty.

But at age 32, after earning more than $100 million in prize money and hundreds of millions more from sponsorships, he is in a very different time and place.

He explained that he and his wife, Jelena, and their children — a 5-year-old son, Stefan, and a 2-year-old daughter, Tara — start their mornings in Monaco by greeting the day on the balcony of their apartment, which overlooks the Mediterranean Sea.

“We wake up early, because I take my son to school, so we prepare our juices in the morning in the kitchen, and then we go out and watch the sunrise, and then we do our hugging session and singing session,” he said. “And we do a little yoga.”

Djokovic chuckled, a bit self-consciously. But he believes the private ritual reflects how he has changed. In his view, he is no longer playing tennis to prove himself but to improve himself and the lives of those around him.

For the first 15 minutes of an interview last month, there was no need (or opportunity) to ask a question. Djokovic, who rarely gives in-depth interviews about his personal life but speaks in long, sometimes meandering paragraphs, shook hands firmly, took a seat and started riffing, apologizing intermittently for the monologue.

“Everybody talks about trophies, achievements, records, history, and I’m really blessed to be in a position to be one of the guys in the mix and in the midst of these kinds of conversations,” he said. “I am really grateful for the career I’ve had, but for me right now, tennis is more a platform than an obsession about individual achievement.”

And yet the tennis world is perhaps more focused than ever on individual achievement as Djokovic, Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal jostle for history and championships. Collectively, they have dominated men’s tennis for a decade.

Nadal has won 19 Grand Slam singles titles, just behind Federer’s 20, the record for men. Djokovic’s 16 rank him third, and he has a good chance for more if he continues to move, compete and serve as well as he has recently. He is nearly one year younger than Nadal, and six years younger than Federer.

Djokovic, like Nadal, is playing down the title race even if, unlike Nadal, he has made it clear that Federer’s career record is an objective. He recognizes that the numbers and his staying power present an opportunity.

“I don’t see tennis anymore only as I’m going to go there, and I’m going to win the trophy, do everything possible to achieve that, and once that’s done it’s done, and that’s the only reason I’m playing,” he said. “I’ve finished with that kind of chapter in my life. I guess through the evolution of my life I came to the stage where it’s more than that.”

He and Jelena want to grow their family foundation, which is focused on early childhood education. They want to finish a book on wellness and help answer the questions Djokovic says he gets about how to live a purposeful, healthy life.

Djokovic at this stage is speaking similarly to another champion when he was in his early 30s: Andre Agassi, the once-tormented American who found new energy for tennis after founding a school in Las Vegas, his home city.

Djokovic was never as conflicted about tennis as Agassi. But Agassi, now 49, helped coach Djokovic during one of the most difficult periods of his career — 2017 and early 2018 — before an elbow operation finally helped him shake free of a funk. Agassi, who never had a formal contract with Djokovic, has said he thought his friend was too slow to have surgery. But the two remain close, and Djokovic said he sees parallels in their lives and careers.

“He was one of the very influential people in my life, who actually allowed me to come to all of these realizations even more,” Djokovic said. He added: “If you see things from a larger perspective, it’s quite interestingly the same in terms of understanding what the next step in life is. I will eternally be grateful to him.”

Two of the current Big Three are relatively easy to label. Nadal is the fighter, the supreme in-the-moment competitor. Federer is the pleaser, preternaturally elegant on the move or at rest. But Djokovic, less beloved on a global scale than his rivals, has been harder to pin down. Perhaps his description should spring from that elusiveness. Call him the searcher.

“He is a searcher,” said Marian Vajda, his longtime coach and confidant. “It seems that the things are perfect, but suddenly he wants to change in some way.”

Through the years, Djokovic has switched to a gluten-free and dairy-free diet, practiced meditation and visualization and tinkered repeatedly — and not always successfully — with his service motion. He has used a personal hyperbaric chamber during tournaments. Most recently, he split with an analytics consultant in part because Goran Ivanisevic, one of Djokovic’s coaches, believed they needed get to back to “more basics” and not rely on “all these numbers.”

But Djokovic is committed to experimentation.

“There are so many athletes, so many tennis players, who play so well in practice, and then it comes to the match, and it’s a different story,” he said. “You might have a good match or two or a good month or two, but how can you consistently be there? That tonic or formula of success is like a holy grail for any athlete. How can I really optimize everything and be in a balanced state of mind, body and soul every season for the rest of my career and really be able to peak when I need to?

“I think the No. 1 requirement is constant desire and open-mindedness to master and improve and evolve yourself in every aspect. I know Roger has been talking about it, and it’s something I feel most top athletes of all sports agree on. Stagnation is regression.”

For Vajda and for Djokovic, the restlessness helps explain the pull of the philosophical. Djokovic is trying to channel some of his innate fire and temper it, too.

“There were the years when he was very impatient,” Vajda said. “All the time, he was saying, ‘When, when, when am I going to be No. 1?’ And I would say, ‘When it arrives, just be patient but we have to do certain things in a proper way in order to get there.’”

Djokovic can be a challenging pupil and a challenging personality. On the court, there are still times when he seems most effectively and evidently fueled by anger.

But there is also an emerging side, reflected in his marathon victory over Federer in last year’s Wimbledon final, when he saved two match points and prevailed in a five-set duel that for all its brilliant points of light and fight, felt above all like a battle of concentration with neither player wanting to break out of his tennis-sensei bubble to give the other any emotional fuel.

It was a strikingly different vibe from that of another epic final: Djokovic’s 2012 Australian Open victory over Nadal, which was full of fiery fist pumps, bulging eyes and grinding rallies that, after nearly six hours, left neither man able to stand at the awards ceremony.

“The Australian Open was an out-of-body experience,” Djokovic said. “But in Wimbledon I was more conscious of what was happening to me.”

It has been just about an hour since the interview began, and there is a knock on the door. Djokovic gets up as the door opens to reveal a slightly stooped figure wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up: Agassi.

He is in Monte Carlo, advising another player, Grigor Dimitrov, and they have the conference room booked for a team meeting.

Agassi and Djokovic do a double take.

“Do you believe in coincidences?” Djokovic says in a booming voice.

“Never, never, never,” Agassi says.

They exchange an embrace and news, including an update on Agassi’s son with his wife, Steffi Graf — Jaden, a talented pitcher who has committed to play baseball at the University of Southern California.

“The Yankees were in the house the other day, so the draft is always possible,” Agassi says. “It’s scary, different than tennis in that you don’t eat what you kill. The next level has to believe in you to get a chance.”

Agassi makes it clear he still believes in Djokovic.

“Life’s not done, and I understand everybody is still playing,” Agassi says of the Big Three. “But he’ll be recognized as the best.”

Djokovic says it helps to have a clear purpose, even if it is a different purpose.

“I had to find my reason,” Agassi says. “It’s so important to have that reason.”

Agassi soon excuses himself, and Djokovic begins speaking about parenthood. He knows he will not be slamming a 10-euro note on his kitchen table. He wants his children to know about his childhood but not to be burdened by it.

“I definitely don’t want my kids to go, ‘Oh my God. Here he goes again, saying I didn’t have this, I never had that, and you have everything,’” he says. “I don’t want that because my kids are born in this family in this way and these circumstances, and I respect that.”

There is soon another knock on the door. This time it is Dimitrov. They need the room, and Djokovic needs to pick up Stefan at school.

Down the stairs, into the street and past the Lamborghini, Djokovic breaks into a run, dodging traffic with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

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borathae · 2 years ago

Note

borahae ask

Re: attempting MV!Yoongi to fuck me

Note: I woke up so fucking emotional today. So don’t mind me being a drama queen

———

“You really know how to deny a young woman so blatantly, don’t you Yoongi? I-i was trying to have c-conservation. I though your life w-was interesting. Ah, leave it. Jelena is at her study room. Let’s go.”

Meeting Jelena in her study room and Yoongi and her get ready to leave…

“Before I am kicked out from the spell room again, can I speak to you Jelena? S-so um, Jelena, did you think about what I told you? It’s fine, Yoongi should know too… Okay, I will tell Yoongi if you don’t. So Yoongi. I come up with a backup plan in case your device won’t work. So, um… Jimin told me that Namjoon has– you know– human female f-friends that he keeps around to h-hang out. S-so my plan is to have Jelena curse my blood and fall into Namjoon so that he can have me as h-his f-friend, and when he feeds on me he can be cursed too. Also, witches can do a location spell on me easier. I- I’ll even leave some of my blood behind. I know they struggle with Namjoon but he won’t cloak me. Jimin also said Namjoon keeps his friends for weeks so it will buy you all so much time. I don’t care if it is dangerous, Jelena. All of you put yourselves in so much danger every day so I am not afraid of a pair of fangs. You know Jimin used to compel me to feed on me. It will be the same. I won’t remember a thing and it doesn’t hurt too bad... You two want to kill Namjoon and I say I will help. I don’t care if he kills me too, Jelena. I might die hopping on the stones on the beach or while eating almonds during dinner… I will die anyway. I am just a human, I am no supernatural. I can be easily compelled, easily frightened, easily killed. My death isn’t subject to if. It is a matter of when. So be it while helping Yoon- all my friends! You all won’t even r-remember me in five years so think about it, Yoongi. You know Namjoon. He would never suspect me. I- I can… I can keep him occupied… I’ll play the violin for him a-and I learnt he likes blondes. I will bleach my hair first thing tomorrow. I will make this work, I promise. Jimin could even wipe my entire memory again so that everyone is safe. Y-you can all return to your normal lives in a few months. Look, everyone seemed to approve. Jimin thinks it is a brilliant idea. Taehyung hates Namjoon to his core. I am sure Seokjin and Emma deep down want this too. You know how Jungkook wants to go home. Image it Yoongi, you can return to your home with your l-lovers all safe. Imagine your partners safe from Namjoon, Yoongi… I know all you want is protection for them. Come on, at least accept this offer… You know I am not too proud to beg…”

"And I was giving you answers, I don’t know what childish thing you’re on right now, but you can try this with someone else", Yoongi says, lowering his eyes, "I gave you conversation and I won’t entertain your antics", he adds and turns away, looking into the books instead.

Jelena listens to your plan and shakes her head, "thank you for the offer, but we can manage without having to sacrifice someone. Yoongi has the Unbreaking Shackles now and we are currently working on enchanting chains to make them unbreakable as well. We won’t have to sacrifice anyone for it", she says and nudges Yoongi, "then all he has to do is get close to him and put the shackles on. Mhm, Yoongs can you do that?" she teases.

Yoongi sends her a look, "yes Jelena I can", he says with faux annoyance in his voice.

Jelena chuckles, giving his arm a little squeeze, "I was merely asking. Who knows, maybe you grew weaker."

"You’re not funny", Yoongi murmurs, making her laugh.

#asks: magnus venatio #anon #asks #come talk to my characters #sa: character talk

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biofunmy · 5 years ago

Text

For Novak Djokovic, the Goal Is Still Titles, but ‘More Than That’

MONTE CARLO — Outside an office building not far from where Novak Djokovic resides, a Lamborghini was parked on a street lined with luxury hotels, restaurants and sports cars.

Inside, Novak Djokovic was talking about hard times.

“Ten Deutsche marks, I remember 10 Deutsche marks,” said Djokovic, the 16-time Grand Slam singles title winner who went into the Australian Open this week as the reigning champion.

As he spoke, he slammed his hand on a conference room table, just as his father, Srdjan, had once slammed a 10-mark bill on the kitchen table of their cramped rented apartment in Belgrade.

This was during the violent breakup of the former Yugoslavia in the 1990s. Djokovic does not remember precisely when, but he remembers his father’s words.

By 1999, Djokovic and his family had found a way for him to leave Serbia at age 12 for Niki Pilic’s tennis academy in Munich, the start of his journey toward the top of his sport.

Djokovic has shown remarkable resilience and drive, spurred by the memories of growing up in the midst of conflict, privation and uncertainty.

But at age 32, after earning more than $100 million in prize money and hundreds of millions more from sponsorships, he is in a very different time and place.

“He is a searcher,” said Marian Vajda, his longtime coach and confidant. “It seems that the things are perfect, but suddenly he wants to change in some way.”

But Djokovic is committed to experimentation.

For Vajda and for Djokovic, the restlessness helps explain the pull of the philosophical. Djokovic is trying to channel some of his innate fire and temper it, too.

Djokovic can be a challenging pupil and a challenging personality. On the court, there are still times when he seems most effectively and evidently fueled by anger.

“The Australian Open was an out-of-body experience,” Djokovic said. “But in Wimbledon I was more conscious of what was happening to me.”

He is in Monte Carlo, advising another player, Grigor Dimitrov, and they have the conference room booked for a team meeting.

Agassi and Djokovic do a double take.

“Do you believe in coincidences?” Djokovic says in a booming voice.

“Never, never, never,” Agassi says.

Agassi makes it clear he still believes in Djokovic.

“Life’s not done, and I understand everybody is still playing,” Agassi says of the Big Three. “But he’ll be recognized as the best.”

Djokovic says it helps to have a clear purpose, even if it is a different purpose.

“I had to find my reason,” Agassi says. “It’s so important to have that reason.”

There is soon another knock on the door. This time it is Dimitrov. They need the room, and Djokovic needs to pick up Stefan at school.

Down the stairs, into the street and past the Lamborghini, Djokovic breaks into a run, dodging traffic with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

Sahred From Source link Sports

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#IFTTT #WordPress

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joevarnerrouchu · 5 years ago

Text

what is there to be known about bedroom

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