#For being overplayed and obnoxious and it’s like

[kindlythevoid]

I think one of my favorite things about cool-spy-action movie franchises is that, like, yeah, they’re kind of crappy on the surface and not a lot of people have interesting motivations other than the main character and the camera is all shaky and the cool shots come off super cheesy and the one liners are quoted because they’re funny, not thought-provoking and it’s all shoot shoot explosion suspense stealth longing looks “five seconds before it goes off!!!1!!1”

But. Like. They also have at least one great actor giving their all and really neat stunts that people actually did (!!!) and the older ones have more physical effects than digital and the newer ones have more complex characters and they give you something to root for or a mystery to solve and there are fun interactions that are sometimes silly for the heck of it because not everything has to be grimdarkseriousgrrr and they’ll parallel something so neatly it’s breathtaking and it’s all nostalgia investment mirroring heartbeats morality “I know we’re fighting/about to die but I need you to know that I love you (romantically/platonically/familial)!!!”

Like. They can be both and they should be both and that is the inherent draw of the Action Movie so that the first time you watch it you can turn off your brain and enjoy the quips and the stunts and the creativity that went into the movie but then you can watch it again and again and again to notice the hints towards the twist and how the villain and the hero have the same motivation that their character (not archetype) changes the ends of and feel the same rush of sweet nostalgia of watching something familiar.

[cloveroctobers]

LOVE FOR A MINUTE — ARMANDO ARETAS [Summer Randoms]

A/N: I did say I was going to take a break with my summer collection soon but uh…THIS IS ACTUALLY SHORT WORK SO IT DOESNT COUNT! Anyways what if I bring you a dash of some mess that I randomly started writing on my lunch break based off one of my current overplayed songs?🏃🏽‍♀️

WARNINGS: language, toxicity, arranged marriages, mentions of gun violence, use of y/n & infidelity!

SYNOPSIS: in which Armando is trying to figure out a lot of things in his life but…it’s always something.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁

All it took was some passionfruit soda to figure out that you were cheating on him. Not only cheating but with someone he unfortunately worked alongside of.

Rafe.

And Armando already couldn’t stand his obnoxious ass. It didn’t take him long to figure it out either, the dots being connected unbeknownst to you and it was no secret that Armando was a man of few words but he was also very observant. Rafe had no issue being the loudest in the room, the type of co-worker that loved playing videos on his phone on the highest of volumes that one of his speakers was actually on its way out.

Rafe was all protein shakes, açaí bowls, and early morning workout routines but the moment he showed up with a plastic filled cup with a colorful beverage, burping up a storm from the other side of Kelly, who kept giving him warnings while she cleaned her favorite weapon of choice at her spot of the desk, that was the final blow for Armando.

Armando looked away from his own desk which was off to the side away from the original AMMO members—he had his own personal sticker thanks to the amusement of the team which read: does not play well with others right on the side of the table, he fully turned to face Rafe who laughed it up.

“C’moooooon, That was the best one!” Rafe held his hands up in defense.

Dorn rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, “not only are you annoyingly distracting, you also reek, dude. What the hell are you drinking?”

The ADHD must be kicking in as Rafe now had one hand on his phone, texting away with his thumb, giving Armando enough time to sneak up and catch a glimpse of a bikini photo that looked awfully familiar before Rafe quickly locked his phone. He clears his throat, lifting his head to meet Armando standing over him.

“Can I help you? Ever heard of personal space?”

Armando lifts his chin, his voice naturally low as he states, “Let me see your phone.”

“Uhhhh? No?”

“I’m not asking.”

“Which is exactly why I’m not handing it over.” Rafe smirked.

Armando crossed his arms, “You got something to hide?”

“No.” Rafe scoffed, “I just don’t appreciate you standing over me like you’re fucking Michael myers or something, making demands. We’re not even friends and I know you got your own phone, whether it’s from your deadbeat dad or from some dirty money you probably have stashed away.”

Hands were placed right on Rafe, making Dorn widen his eyes from his spot at the sound of impact while he sat at the end of the desk. Armando had his hands right at Rafe’s shirt, but not without slapping his hands flat against Rafe’s chest, almost knocking the wind out of him as Armando bunched up his shirt while he got right in Rafe’s face. “…Seems like you had a lot to say about me behind my back, so why don’t you say it all to my face this time?”

“Yeah okay…” Rafe starts as he sizes Armando up, “Maybe you should go on your lunch break because you’re doing a lot right now. More than usual.”

Armando doesn’t miss a beat, “Maybe I should ask your girl to join me instead. You know the one? The one you keep stringing along and is also the mother of your baby girl?”

Rafe tightens his square jaw, “what the fuck are you getting at, bro?”

Armando darkens his stare, “I see right through you, bro.”

“Oh yeah?”

“So I’m actually going to ask you a question that I already know the answer to: are you fucking my wife?”

Kelly and Dorn both flick their gazes to each other’s.

Rafe licks his full lips, breaking eye contact for a moment, but he knew he had an audience so he keeps his usual persona up, “…I’ll give her back if you want?”

And that was enough for Armando to swing. He didn’t need to know the details from Rafe but he needed to make the message clear, it was always fuck Rafe around these parts, and he stood on that. However Rafe wasn’t one to back down from a fight and sure he maybe taller than Armando, the well known muscle of the team but none of that means anything to Armando. He’s had plenty of bodies left to rot all over—so in short—none of these men were punks.

“As much as I love a good fight, I’m exhausted dealing with you assholes everyday! So cut the shit.” Kelly yells, one arm pressed up against Rafe’s throat on the other side of the room while Dorn is also holding Armando back.

Dorn nods, “We’re supposed to be a team, here!”

“He sucker punched me in the face!” Rafe points, “and we were forced to work with his bitch ass anyways!”

Armando pants, “The only backstabbing bitch I see here is you, motherfucker.”

“Oh whatever! I don’t owe you anything. You’re in your feelings over a chick that just wasn’t that into you and you knew that so you want to take it out on me.” Rafe yells, “face it, you got played by someone that was forced to be with you because of mommy dearest.”

Armando laughs humorlessly, ducking underneath Dorn’s arms but he jogs right after him, grabbing his wrists and pulling them back while yanking Armando, “I’m surprised it took this long for someone to knock you on your ass.”

“Oh it’s been awhile.” Kelly chimes in over her shoulder.

Rafe rolls his eyes, recalling just what Kelly was talking about, “I’d split your eyebrow open if it wasn’t for Mr. And Mrs. Smith here. And you got me while I was sitting, which is weak by the way.”

Armando shrugs, “what difference would it make? you’d still be garbage.”

“All that anger should go to someone who cares and newsflash, it’s not me.” Rafe mockingly grins at the ex-crime boss.

Dorn interupts, “wait…all this is over y/n? Rafe…the one you were sexting and talking about is y/n?”

Kelly throws her head back with a shake of her head, just wondering why her boyfriend would add more salt to the wound. Dorn sometimes ended up speaking his thoughts out loud before thinking them over, truly.

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Someone gets an B-!”

However that didn’t stop Kelly from shoving her forearm tighter up the dark haired man’s throat, making him wheeze. Rafe raises his hand in surrender as a sign that he was just joking.

“That’s fucked up, dude.” Dorn slowly loosen’s his grip on Armando who side eyes him for holding him back, then fixes his shirt, “on so many levels.”

The four in the room couldn’t erase the tension but two familiar forms definitely could.

“What is going on in here?!” Captain Secada demanded, as she viewed the damage to the tech, Rafe’s busted lip, who tried to hide the evidence by pulling his lips into his mouth, spilled fruit soda dripping off the counter and onto the desk chair, Kelly let’s go of the Asian man, placing her hands on her hips as she looked back and forth between the men in further irritation, Dorn awkwardly scratches the back of his head, and Armando appeared as if he was ready to leap again.

Detective Lowrey steps into Armando’s view, who still appeared as if he was looking right through his biological father, right at Rafe.

“Mando, talk to us.”

He says nothing, making Mike rub his jaw in frustration at the common wall his son liked to put up. “My guess is: Rafe got what was comin’ to him.”

Kelly snorts while Dorn nods his head, quickly looking away once Rafe throws his hands up is confusion on why Dorn didn’t have his back. Rita sends Mike a warning look but he just shrugs as he turns to stand side ways, so that he can get a good look at everyone again.

“Regardless of what happened before we arrived—which I will find out—Do I need to remind you all that this is a place of business, where professionalism and team work is supposed to be the number one priority?”

Rafe huffs, “try telling that to the cartel Tasmanian devil over there. I know what oath I took to be here…some people were just handed shit.”

All eyes snapped to Rafe at that.

He just didn’t know when to quit.

Armando snickered as he scratches at the side of his nose by his beauty mark. Although his heart was drumming in his chest over the truth, he kept his cool—now.

“…That’s fine, next time I’ll just put the gun in your mouth instead.”

“WHOA! WHOA! ALRIGHT!” Mike scolded, although he didn’t blame Armando, he didn’t need him locked up again.

While Rita interjected, “that’s enough you two!”

“I think that’s my cue to go home for the day.” Armando stated, not looking for permission from either of the higher ranks, as he turns to start grabbing a few of his items: phone, keys, and his backpack.

“Tell y/n I said wassup.” Rafe raises his chin while Armando sends him one last look with a mocking laugh, motioning a gun at him on his way out.

Mike runs his hands over his goatee as Rita sends him a glance, making him quickly dip his head to follow his son out of the trailer part of the building.

“Mando, hey!” Mike calls out to the shorter man who’s making his way over to his car.

Armando keeps moving, unlocking the door to the car, throwing his things into the passenger side. When Mike slams his hands down on the hood of the car, Armando turns from the ajar door to meet Mike’s eyes.

“Don’t do nothing stupid. Not when you’ve come this far.” Mike tells Armando, whose eyes are as dark as black coffee.

Armando blinks, “Sure, I’m a murderer turned agent but I’m not down for being disrespected.”

“Okay,” Mike nods, “I feel that. And I’m proud that you lasted this long not popping that asswipe in the mouth.”

Armando snorts, already being aware that Rafe had his share of words with Mike as well.

“Tell me now, are you plotting something against y/n too?”

“No.” Armando shrugged his shoulders, “I been knew—

“But you loved her so that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, right? You can be real with me.” Mike suggests.

Armando deeply inhales, “…I don’t think I know much about love after all, Mike.”

And with that, he climbs into the car, starting the engine, leaving the man on the outside to step out of the way and watch Armando go.

The stories you tried to spin when you got Armando to finally talk to you, made him blow up on you. It’s not the first fight you’ve ever had, the relationships always been toxic. Your mothers were in jail together, you and Armando were practically raised in that facility together in Mexico City until a certain age and then you were both uprooted away from your moms and away from each other.

Somehow you found your way back together, whereas Armando went into training underneath Benito Aretas, you didn’t exactly grow up in a loving home either. Finding yourselves into crooked crime and wealth, you both did well for yourselves and it was written in stone that you two would be in an arranged marriage. Your mother ended up dying in prison but that was her dying wish, believing that Isabel would do right by you.

Depends on how you define that.

You became Mrs. Aretas at twenty-one but once you came to the states and got a taste of a different life, you changed. Armando was always on a mission and ultimately you were on a different one.

You two were no longer a team so it seemed, carrying on tasks on your own where at times your home in Florida started to feel colder at times.

“I’m out here forced to pay off my debts with people I don’t even care for like that, knowing that my wife is doing me dirty. How do you expect me to continue living your famous lie of: everything’s fine when it’s far from it?” Armando asks after you slapped the laptop that he was working on, right off the dining table.

You’re folding your arms, “nothing about our relationship has been a lie, i love you and wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t regardless of what our mother’s wanted. I just—

“ Last I heard you don’t cheat on people you claim to love—guess that’s something you have in common with my mother.” Armando leans back in the chair, fingers folded together.

Raising your brows you deeply exhale, “Look…I know you’re pissed off with me and you have every right to be but i dont appreciate you comparing me to Isabel. I’m not anything like her.”

Armando shrugs his shoulders, “manipulative, selfish, calculated, narcissistic—

“Wow! Say it with your whole chest then.”

“You fucked up, so I’m done.”

“W-what?”

“All those years gone just like that.” Armando feels his jaw about to shake, “and with Rafe of all people? He’s somebody’s whole father and you know he treat’s Kennicott like shit so what was it? The crimson chin?”

You clench your eyes shut, “this is no excuse but the first time we were all drunk and at the club, Mike was there—

“Don’t bring him into this,” Armando snaps, knowing where you were going, “we been had that conversation months ago. You know what? I don’t even need the whole rundown because I’ve already got the gist. I just want to know when I should expect you out by.”

He’s back on his phone, app open to make a schedule and reminders already.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You argue.

Armando keeps a straight face although his brow wants to raise in annoyance, “cool then I’ll leave and have some people stop by to get my things within a week.”

“Armando.” You start, waterworks rising as you begin to follow him, “we can work this out.”

Armando stops in his tracks, almost making you bump into the back of him. He says over his shoulder, “there’s nothing else to work out, this hasn’t been working and I’ve constantly been turning the other cheek since we got here together. Since I got locked up but I guess you forgot about what a commitment entails. Maybe we’re better off without each other for good this time.”

Angrily wiping your tears you grit at his retreating form down the hallway that led to one of the five bedrooms, laundry room, and the side door that led to the car port outside, “don’t tell me you’re just gonna go off and fuck off with Kennicott and her kid? how cliche!”

He puts his shades on in the driver’s side as you rest your hands on the rolled down window, “take care of yourself the best way you know how, y/n and good luck with Rafe. Who knows how much longer he’s got left?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly, what that means.” Armando’s stare is heated even behind his expensive shades, “please, watch your feet. I’m outta here.”

You’re left a gapping fish, jumping back as Armando reversed out of the car port and out of your life for good, if he can help it.

“Hi sweetie,” you smile down at the five year old by the swings as you briefly peek back at Kennicott standing in front of Armando who’s sitting on the bench, shielding the sun from his eyes but his faint dimples are showing as he peers up at her like she created the damn sun.

You start to wonder when’s the last time he’s looked at you like that.

It’s been some time since he emptied his things out the shared home you had together. You still tried to keep up conversations and hookups with Rafe, mostly to keep tabs on Armando but Rafe caught on quick to your game. That’s when the ghosting started and you running up on every other girl Rafe tried to bring back to his place.

Deeming you as crazy but it wouldn’t be the first time.

This wasn’t healthy, you knew this but you couldn’t help yourself. Why did Rafe think he could just get rid of you? And why did Armando think he can just move on and do exactly what you knew he would do.

That’s where you got it wrong.

He wasn’t dating Kennicott but she did manage to get some smiles out of him. Of course he already knew her since she came around to headquarters doing sweet things for Rafe and the team that he never appreciated. It was like Kennicott was a bother to Rafe yet she was also the mother of his child? She deserved better much like Armando did and if you wanted to look at it in a petty way…it was nice to get underneath Rafe’s skin in the process by being her friend.

You still didn’t sign the divorce papers but when you received them, you thought about doing a drive by to be honest. That was more Armando’s style but it wouldn’t be so different than what you normally got into. Before getting to that you started off small, by keeping tabs on those Armando affiliated with and placing a tracker on Kennicott’s emerald green 4Runner. Which led to the park Kennicott always brought her daughter to on Saturdays.

Wednesdays were swimming lessons, Thursdays were Kennicott’s late nights at the office so baby girl was usually with Rafe’s mom. You had their schedule down pat and it was the perfect time to execute.

“Y/n?!” Armando screamed your name as you handed the five year old off to your accomplice in the backseat.

It was like slow motion as you spotted a worried Kennicott gripping Armando’s forearm, once your eyes switched from their comfortability and back up to their faces, you sent a wicked smile before tossing the door back and hoping into the tinted car.

Armando knows he could have taken the shot but you were still his wife, there were plenty of witnesses and children, and he always had the risk of being thrown back in jail hanging over his head. He knew your game, actually fell in love with it, so all he could do for right now was embrace a distraught Kennicott underneath his arm and call it in.

If that’s how you wanted to play, he was guaranteed to win.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁

Continue reading my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

[annamarabella-grumble]

quick and dirty game review: KILLER FREQUENCY

it's really good!! why?

it's all your favourite 80s/onwards slasher flicks rolled into one

the premise is ropey as hell but it's self-aware enough to know that and make it FUN

the references are gonna be really obvious to horror connoisseurs but tbh for me they were subtle enough that they weren't overpowering the experience; it's not just fanservice held together by gaffer tape and string

there's one (1) jumpscare right at the beginning, so be aware of that, but it didn't send me running for the hills and while i haven't finished the game yet, it's fair to say the rest of the game does not rely on cheap thrills and scares

that said, the fact that there's a crouch mechanic deeply worries me

but still: without giving too much away, you experience the game by manning the radio station and taking calls from people being pursued by a serial killer. there's no narration or visuals, the tension relies entirely on voice acting and sound design -- and i think they did a spectacular job with that

there were so many moments where i (and chat, i was streaming it) was on the edge of my seat

the puzzles are absolutely doable but still really satisfying when you work them out; and there's timers only on some dialogue choices, so you have enough time to work things out in steps -- also makes it easier/more fun to let chat help hehe

when you do fail, you don't feel railroaded or tricked, which is important, though once or twice a lack of information can be a little frustrating because you're just gonna have to go with your gut

the characters have really interesting backstories, i can't wait to find out more 👀

according to the devs, the dialogue and backstories were all written collaboratively across the team, and the game somewhat responds to how well you do in keeping people alive

there's also clues throughout the story so you can try and put it together as you go -- delighted to find out what's the biggest red herring

devs say all players will get a satisfying resolution re: the killer's identity, but players who do well get a more complete picture -- raising the incentive for multiple playthroughs

there's moments of instant karma that are just *chef's kiss*

the environmental storytelling at the radio station ohmygod

is something lgbt happening to Peggy 👀👀

the dialogue choices match up with the tone of what your character actually says, so it's easy to mould his personality a little bit (and the bits where they get creative with punctuation to help convey that tone are really funny)

i'm about halfway through and so far nothing seems overplayed; instead the game just fully commits to the bit without being obnoxious

mechanics are simple: play records, play ad tapes, take calls, and occasionally run through the station for clues

sadly, you can't photocopy your butt

BUT you can shoot hoops from your desk (with paper balls) and the game tracks how many you got

if you're a horror movie or game fan, if this sounds like you'd enjoy it, i can only recommend it! i'm not super good with horror or survival games, but i had an absolute blast with this. here's a couple of screenshots so you can see the aesthetic they're working with:

it's got that cell-shaded telltale look -- easy on the eyes, colourful. and the carpets. my god

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 25/02/2023

BELIEBERDANSEN

Season 8 No Album Release (Read More) Caramelldansen (CA Version) - Caramellagirls

Ripped by DiamondBrickZ

With Season 8 officially in gear, it means I'm going to have to play a bit of catch-up with it in terms of coverage on here! All other prior Seasons have over 30 posts each on here - you can check for yourself on the pinned post! - but Season 8 still sits at just a single one, with Magolor's Shoppe Fusion Collab. Well, today marks the second ever Season 8 post, covering its first surprise event - BELIEBERDANSEN and the Justin Bieber takeover.

The idea of cringe culture in how it relates to SiIvaGunner's history is a really fascinating topic, and one I covered back on mlp racism anthem (comix zone arrange) in pretty good detail. To summarize, there was a time early in the channel's life where a good number of the references and jokes were made in rather poor taste - where the crux of the joke was to point and laugh at the weird and different parts of the internet, to have trolled the audience with something "cringe". The feel of internet discussion has changed a lot in the years since 2016, though, and it generally feels as if we're far more accepting, more nostalgic and intrigued by the stranger parts of the internet, rather than blatantly antagonistic. Be it with "dead" memes like in Corridors of Vine and Wario's Hampster Mine, or with phenomena that are still ongoing like with Hidden Headtoilets (skibidi toree 2), the SiIvaGunner channel and community tend to take a far more...playful stance to things nowadays. If something is to be loathed in SiIvaGunner nowadays, it has to truly earn it through its presence on the channel: the Yankin'/Astronaut in the Ocean wars of Season 5, as talked about in Aquarium in the Ocean and Knowledge of the Depths are the clearest example of that.

With all of that in mind, I don't really know why I was still surprised over how much fun the Justin Bieber event wound up being! The event, on February 19, 2024, celebrated the 14th anniversary of Justin Bieber's infamous release "Baby", a song that lit early internet ablaze with exaggerated vitriol way back when. And yeah, a bit of that resentment could still be seen in the comments section - its a fair bit more justified given how much Bieber himself has changed since the song - but overall, the rips made during the event all put a really fun spin on this otherwise overplayed song! I recommend you all give the event a listen if you haven't been keeping tabs this month, but BELIEBERDANSEN is really just one pick amidst a plethora of other excellent ones. That, and as said in Caramariodansen - any song mashed up with Caramelldansen is bound to become funny.

Honestly though, it wasn't a blind pick, and I may just be a little bit biased toward the aforementioned song in particular. Caramelldansen, if you weren't aware, is a Nightcore-ified version/remix of a Swedish pop song - and I, Mel, the writer of this blog, am Swedish. That draws me to any Caramelldansen rip on its own, and the concept of BELIEBERDANSEN alone is just very funny, a mashup of two absolute juggernauts of early "obnoxious" internet culture. Yet ripper DiamondBrickZ went the extra mile beyond just making this a mashup - at the point where the choruses of both songs begin, Bieber's Baby vocals are sentence-mixed to the original Swedish vocals of Caramelldansen. I of course have no idea what the creative process behind this was, especially due to the not knowing much about DiamondBrickZ as a person, but as a Swedish listener myself I have to say: This is SHOCKINGLY well done and still sounds wholly legible as Swedish speech. Like, the rest of the mashup is great: I love the use of the repeated "Baby's" almost acting as a choir during the instrumental break after the chorus, and the use of Ludacris' feature during the midway point of the song is perfectly placed, but like...the sentence mixing genuinely caught me completely off guard in the best way possible - memories of Season 1's double-rugpull in Be Cool, Be Wild, and Be My Girl came flowing back. It's just the cherry on top of an already fantastically creative mashup idea that was excellently done, and turned BELIEBERDANSEN into the absolute highlight of the event for me.

[rainbowwrare]

A moment of silence for people who work full time in places like retail, where those annoying "trendy" radio stations are constantly being played.

I worked in a pharmacy for a week recently and I was going nuts listening to the same 5 songs over and over again. If I hear Espresso one more time I Am Going To Combust.

They could never make me hate Hozier but wow, hearing Too Sweet that many times physically pains the soul. It's a pity that songs like that end up getting overplayed while some of his other gems never show up on the air! (To this day, I have only ever heard our main radio stations play Eat Your Young and Damage Gets Done, from Unreal Unearth.)

I'm probably just gonna end up throwing my CDs on in the background from now on, I liked listening to the radio but it's been getting so obnoxious lately with the repetitiveness :/

[cosofthe9]

Got A New Project Idea- Feeling Lear-ish

I suspect it's mainly an attempt to get back into the writing business I once was so active and charged up to work in, but it's also very much a genuine passionate attempt at a good creative work. It's sort of a new thing, a mix of the sorta socially conscious comedies that Norman Lear and like Jim Brooks used to do in the 70s, (AITF, Taxi, WKRP, MTM, etc.) mixed with like the more campy ensemble comedies of later times, including like I guess Friends (even though I really dislike it) and the Big Bang Theory (despite most people finding it garbage)- so sorta like Will and Grace in the end or the Nanny (flawless connections)

The idea? A youth-oriented comedy set at a college/university in a city, with the main focus being a group of 8 friends, 6 of them neurodivergent, 2 neurotypical.

Since I'm autistic myself, it certainly helps give all this stuff proper cred where it belongs. I got three reasons for producing this potential idea- First of all, I feel that television is very much in terms of neurodivergent representation lacking. In America, for example, despite like up to a fifth of the nation being neurodivergent, they only got Atypical, TBBT, Young Sheldon and fricking the Good Doctor as their saving graces. Britain is quite a bit better at this, and in Canada, where I live, there's practically nothing there on television.

Secondly, where there IS representation, it's rather flawed, and a bit one note. For example, and using the Big Bang Theory again here, Sheldon's a neurotic genius who happens to be obnoxious, and while we do see some reason for this, it's not really expanded upon, and makes sympathy hard to reach.

Finally, the increasing lack of empathy and sheer discriminatory anger and derisiveness being launched at the neurodivergent community is certainly rather rough, and I highly suspect it comes from an extreme lack of cultural understanding and an extraordinary excess of stereotypes being overplayed and information being sorta misrepresented contextually. With shows like TBBT and The Good Doctor, they reinforce quite a few stereotypes here and there, and while semi progressive at times, they are far from what we should be striving for in terms of proper representation on network television.

I believe a new show that confronts all this head on, with proper grace and tact, could not only help the neurotypicals understand things from another perspective, but also ensure people who are autistic, have ADHD, are bipolar, have OCD and any other neurodivergent that they're seen, heard and understood.

Just a thought at the end of the day though- and it needs some serious development and help to go from a good concept to a real show thing with real potential.

So Tumblr, what do you think?

[ckret2]

I don't know if it's just because I have the most horrible taste in music known to humankind but that playlist isn't actually that bad? I like most of the songs on there

So, I'm constructing the Songs Bill Cipher Would Totally Listen To playlist based on four criteria I've identified for songs I think fit him. For most of the playlist so far, I'm literally alternating 1-2-3-4 through each of these categories:

Literal noise. This might mean sound effects (Shepard tones, sirens, air horns) or might be discordant music that uses these sounds, or might be really experimental music genres, ex: noise music or electroacoustic composition.

60s rock and/or psychedelic music, since the one human song we KNOW he thinks he's good comes from 60s rock. This includes more mainstream selections like Jefferson Airplane, Pink Floyd, and Jimi Hendrix; but also more obscure, more experimental music like Bruce Haack or Joe Meek; but also modern psychedelic rock like Jess and the Ancient Ones.

2000s party music, emphasizing hip hop and heavier EDM genres like dubstep or hardstyle, with a particular focus on songs that could be seen as more "obnoxious"—louder, less melodic songs, oftentimes with lyrics about partying (or lyrics that could be considered pretty obscene) rather than more laid back things about romance and the like. I literally have a couple of tabs open with "most overplayed party songs" and "most overplayed EDM songs" that I'm drawing from, and passing over the ones I don't feel are in-your-face enough. There's also a few memey songs thrown in (Dragostea Din Tei, for instance), but only ones I subjectively feel are widely known.

Piano covers of songs I think he might have learned to play on the piano; popular songs, played in a way that sounds simpler, without as many musical flourishes. (For folks who have played piano and know what I'm talking about here: I'm leaning toward covers that are less legato, not much dynamic range, and lean away from using the sustain pedal, because that's how we see him play in the show.) There's basically no genre consistency to the songs being covered, although I've been leaning toward songs I think Bill might be more interested in lyrically (ex: songs about murders, outlaws)—but even that's not a hard and fast rule.

None of the music is objectively BAD. However:

Category 1 consists COMPLETELY of tracks that either aren't music at all, or else are VERY out-there experimental music most folks would never listen to.

Category 2 has some mainstream music, but then starts sliding into niche obscure 60s acts or niche obscure modern psychedelic acts—and some of those are (deliberately) pretty weird-sounding, too.

Category 3 consists almost entirely of very popular music, BUT very popular music from over a decade ago, and SO popular that a lot of people listening to popular music at the time considered them overplayed. They're songs put on in a club because everyone knows them but also songs most likely to make somebody go "UGH, this song AGAIN???"

Category 4 consists of the most plain piano covers I can find, like if there are two piano covers of the same song I choose the one that sounds more boring to me. If you like a song in category 4 it's probably because you already liked the song itself and so hearing a piano cover is nice—but there's a wide variety of songs being covered in this category, with little uniting them except "they're popular enough to get covered."

Any given song on this playlist is probably good, or at least okay. (Except the William Shatner one.) But: the playlist as a whole is thematically incoherent and discordant. It adds up to less than the sum of its parts.

[prismalit]

i think my biggest thing with lux is like . . . people just dismiss her so quickly because, quite frankly, the way she's portrayed in game isn't the best because of the outdated voice lines, and lux really deserves a voice re-cast with new lines that retain her softness and bubbly personality, but also offer another multifacted perspective that discuss her life as a mage in demacia, the relationship between herself and demacia because of her being a mage. because as kind and sweet and bubbly and happy as lux is, the fandom uses that and writes her off as just being annoying and obnoxious and they overplay that bubbly and chatty aspect of her personality, when really, i think she's a lot more mellow. i think she's fun and excitable and peppy, but i don't think she's overly loud or obnoxious. lux's personality reminds me a lot of my own except she's like 1000 times smarter than i am and certainly not an edgelord KLJBSDJK

but anyways. i wish people would take lux more seriously and i would like to explore deeper aspects of lux and different emotions and perspectives and her views of the world and how it forms around her and her relationship with the world around her.

[thinkatoryprocess]

In your hypothetical s4 matsson/roman fic, how does their relationship begin ? Does Roman initiate in a sort of business tactic, does Lukas initiate, etc?

Hmm. I think I like it most if Roman's just being an asshole because he hates Lukas for the attempted acquisition and way overplays his hand on gay chicken.

Lukas initially is most horny for Kendall, but Roman steals all of Lukas's attention by being obnoxious, aggressive, and following through on every single one of his bullshit tactics. Roman just doesn't 100% realize that he both hates and desperately wants to fuck Lukas until he's face-to-face with him after enough of this. Then it's like a frying pan to the side of his head, he becomes so thirsty it's embarrassing, and he hates every second of it until it actually happens. The sex is deeply weird, they can read each other's bullshit well enough to hit all the buttons, but they're both very, very into it.

Then it's just a question of making himself stop. That's not that easy. Bad decisions pile up.

[vohtaro]

i kind of think tumblr overplays it's own engagement re: art... tagging system is nice but tags are cesspools and full of redundant things a lot of the time. i have in all but one instance received more engagement on twt for art i have posted. i think there are valid complaints re: algorithms on twt, but i don't subscribe to this idea that tumblr is going to fix all of artist's problems if they move over here.

i don't find the "based on your likes" posts at all useful or interesting. ads are more intrusive (scrolled past a 2.5x screen-height ad this morning). tumblr live it's fcking stupid and speaks to tumblr's style of making intrusive changes to its user experience that either add nothing or are just plain obnoxious. i know this is just me bitching about tumblr and not being productive about it... there are things tumblr has in terms of format and post size that are comparable if not better. this site is surely better for writers; having a consistent art tag makes it super easy to scroll someone's art; asks have always been a nice opt-in space for engagement.

i think my focus/intent w this has gone off the rails a bit. i'm curious to see how other artists contend with tumblr as an art-hosting site that also has an active community. i guess i just don't think the reach is as good as people think it is. tumblr doesn't seem as limited by negative algorithms like insta or twt, but rather by its own scheme of how likes vs reblogs propagate.

[bllsbailey]

Rich, Obnoxious California Transplants Messed With the Wrong Rancher

Neighbor disputes are the worst. It’s not like when you sue someone over a contract and the next time you see them is at a deposition, mediation, or trial. You have to live next to them. Most neighbor disputes don’t end up as lawsuits, but it happens.  

I started my career at a small law firm but I left because the partners had the ethics of the Sopranos. Fortunately, I landed a fun case right away, one that was destined for trial: A neighbor dispute, with a twist.  

My client had purchased a vacant lot for a song. The lot was on a lake. The previous owner, the seller, didn’t want the lot because the adjacent neighbors told him he could have the lot, but he couldn’t develop it, because they had “gardening easements”. The seller wasn’t into lawsuits and just wanted to get rid of the headache. My guy bought it.  

The neighbors had planted vegetables on my guy's land with the obvious intent to keep the property open for their view of the lake. I told my client the neighbors were full of it and that we would win at trial. We tried to “negotiate” but knew it was headed to trial. 

During discovery, I deposed one of the nasty owners. Slicked-back hair and designer clothes. He was a money manager with a trophy wife and he resembled a Bond villain. He told me that he had to leave by “X” time because he had a tee time. I told him I didn’t care if he had a tee time with the Pope, he wasn’t leaving until I was finished. 

He then told he was golfing with Sean Connery - he was leaving if I liked it or not. He indeed got up at "X" time and he left. No matter - I knew that him doing so would help me more than whatever he had to say. Jerks tend to overplay their hands. I let Bond villain bury himself at trial. I won. They appealed. They lost. The lot was purchased for $180,000. I looked up the property value (with the house), and as of today, it's worth $5.3 million.  

Neighbor disputes suck, but when the good guys win it's pretty sweet. A few days ago, I read a story about a neighbor dispute in Colorado that turned out to have a happy ending. A very happy ending.  

There was a narrow strip of land that California transplants had bought. It was a vacant lot where they planned to build a home. A few months after it closed, the next-door neighbor, a rancher, got a notice. The transplants informed him that they would sue him if he didn’t move his fence. The fence encroached on the new owners’ property by 3 to 6 inches. 

The rancher tried to reason with the new owners to no avail. He gave the new owners three extremely reasonable options. All were rejected. So the rancher told his neighbors – “sue me." They won, but the rancher knew that would be the result. He just wanted them to spend more money. After the judgment and order to move the fence, the rancher moved the fence. Shortly thereafter, he constructed a hog pen up against the fence near the new neighbors’ new home. He verified with the county that the pen was legal. The property was zoned “Ag." He fed his new oinkers table scraps. 

I didn’t know, but apparently feeding hogs people food makes their poop smell like death. The smell didn’t affect the rancher’s family. His home was hundreds of yards away, but the piggies were right up against the new owners’ property line.   

Winter rolled around and the smell was reduced. The jerk neighbors couldn't take the smell. They put up a “for sale” sign. When the property was sold, the rancher deconstructed the pen, cleaned up the area, and sold the hogs. His "beef" wasn’t with the people who would move in next.  

Being a jerk rarely works and I imagine it works even less against farmers and ranchers, particularly when the jerks have more money than brains.   

[starfanatic]

I just wanna make a disclaimer, no hate to OP and I respect your opinion, but they might just be one of the worse opinions I've seen for Mortal Kombat in quite a while. This is my opinion though... I guess

-The switcheroo between Raiden and Liu Kang sounds incredibly obvious storytelling and not necessarily unique. I agree with that. However, you don't know the entire story yet. Maybe they have some plot twists in the story mode, or maybe they put Raiden in a different but more interesting and relatable light. Either way, I wouldn't assume it's just going to immediately sucks.

-The Kombat Kids were not even close to that good to have ANOTHER game focused on them. Cassie Cage and Takeda carry the other 2 on their back easily, and on top of that, Cassie and Jacqui were also apart of the mk11. Making another story about the Kombat Kids would just be obnoxious, especially since most fans want previous characters back, like Smoke.

-Mileena's character design is incredibly scary and unpleasant to look like. That's the point, it's great. I don't think it's a try hard, I haven't found Mileena that scary and frightening in my life, ever. It's awesome. I don't really know why this is an issue.

-Characters like Erron Black or Kotal Kahn is no where close to being as good as Smoke or Rain. Erron Black's character is incredibly simple and overplayed, and he's not a major character in the story in general. Smoke actually has influence, and it seems like Rain will be a threatening antagonist as well. Kotal Kahn sucks, that's all I have to say. I guess it's up to opinion but like... I'd literally scream in terror if there was a game focused on him.

Mortal Kombat peaked at MKX.

The more I see of the new timeline's innovative new ideas, the more sour I feel about this whole thing. It feels like it knows it's just another reboot and it's trying so, so hard to come up with ways to feel superficially like it's not another reboot, and all it makes me think about is what we left behind when we burned down the franchise's continuity for a second time.

"Liu Kang is Raiden and Raiden... is LIU KANG!" We sacrificed the Kombat Kids for this.

"What if Johnny Cage... DIDN'T HAVE HIS POWERS!?" What if Cassie Cage was a person who existed?

"What if Kuai Liang was Scorpion, and he and Sub-Zero were brothers, because Bi-Han is his brother!?" What if Scorpion rebuilt the Shirai Ryu and trained an apprentice to follow in his footsteps?

"What if Mileena was a Yautja?" ...Okay, in fairness. This does seem really tryhardy and you can feel the designer trying so hard to leave their own iconic mark on the character. How hard is it to just give the character some big chompy teeth? But I will take this over what MKX tried to do with her, because at least it feels like they understood the assignment. Silver star.

"Unexpected characters like SMOKE! And RAIN!" ...are still less interesting than actually new characters like Kotal Kahn or Erron Black.

Characters getting switcheroo'd or powered up or depowered is just... It's the most basic of AU storytelling, and it kinda hurts that this is the best they could come up with after taking a torch to an established continuity that had been going in legitimately new and creative directions.

And it's hard to get invested, because the trust just isn't there. Even if this new timeline was the most creative and interesting and innovative thing that Mortal Kombat's ever done, I'd still be left feeling like it doesn't matter because they're just going to reboot again in a few games' time anyway.

[the-lonelybarricade]

Don't Be a Jerk (It's Christmas) - College AU

Summary: When the group in the corner of the cafe are being too loud for Feyre to study, she decides to take matters into her own hands.

A silly, short little oneshot for @feysand-month (@unofficialfeysandmonth2022) Day 15 - College AU

Read on AO3・Feysand Month Masterlist

Good evening Velaris University listeners.

The voice floating over the cafe’s speakers gave Feyre pause. She set down her pen, trading it for her coffee. She’d been neglecting it so long that it had gone cold, but taking a sip gave her mind an excuse to drift away from the headache of integrals for a moment.

This is your host Lucien Vanserra, I’ll be taking over at VU Radio to keep you night owls company. I hope I can bring a little festive spirit to everyone cramming for exams. Let’s start with the perennial favorite, ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’.

She smiled into her coffee and reached for her phone. Pretty sure Elain is sleeping. She won’t know she’s all you want for Christmas.

Lucien sent back a middle finger emoji.

Teasing him about his crush on her sister had become one of Feyre’s guilty pleasures. What she would never tell Lucien is that Elain had been the one to ask if they could study in the cafe. She insisted it was because she liked the atmosphere. It was just a coincidence that they played the campus radio in the cafe and not in the library.

Feyre would have been better at minding her business about it if Elain hadn’t ditched their study date. She’d gotten her sister’s text only once she’d arrived at the cafe, explaining that she was tired and was going to take an early night. Leaving Feyre to secure a table by herself.

And she wouldn’t have minded studying on her own, if the place Elain had chosen wasn’t so loud. It was open well into the morning and Feyre was hoping she could wait out the noise, but there was one particularly rowdy group in the corner that had set up station before she’d gotten there. By the looks of their setup, she guessed they were planning to be there all night, too.

It meant having to pick between putting in headphones, or listening to Lucien’s radio show. She wanted to pride herself on being a supportive friend, so Feyre grit her teeth and put her headphones in without connecting them to her phone. That way she could still hear Mariah Carey well enough to mentally hum along, but it took some of the edge off of the grating cackle from the man in the corner. He was banging his large fists on the table like the blonde woman next to him had just said the most hilarious joke known to man.

Consciously, Feyre reminded herself that the cafe wasn’t exactly a designated quiet place to study. If she was looking for that, she should have gone to the library—and she would’ve, if not for Elain’s influence.

They’d come here to listen to Lucien’s radio show. So she would listen.

Besides, even if the group was obnoxious, they at least had the benefit of being gorgeous. And she thought maybe it’d be nice to doodle them when she needed a break. Particularly the one sat in the center of it all, with the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen. He wore a smirk on his plush lips and Feyre briefly contemplated what they might taste like.

Until he opened his mouth.

“I thought Lucien’s taste would be classier.”

“C’mon Rhys, this is a classic!” The big one protested. Feyre decided she liked him, even if he was the loudest.

“It’s overplayed,” said the petite woman across from them with a sneer. She had short blonde hair and her grey eyes were narrowed into slits. For such a small person, she carried an energy so imposing that Feyre glanced down quickly at her phone, lest she notice her staring.

She quickly texted Lucien. Play a song for me?

It didn’t take long for Mariah Carey’s voice to fade, and then Lucien’s rich voice came back on: Doesn’t that song just put you in the Christmas spirit? Next up we have an anonymous request dedicated to Rhys. This is ‘Don’t Be a Jerk (It’s Christmas)’.

Rhys sat up, looking around the table at his friends. “Did one of you send that in?”

“No,” the loud one said, throwing his head back for another sharp cackle. “But I want to marry whoever did.”

“It was you, wasn’t it Az?” Rhys said, twitching lips saying he was more amused than anything else.

The third man—the one who up until now had been quiet—shook his head. “I do think it’s an apt choice, though.”

“Yeah, Rhys, don’t be a jerk,” the blonde said, poking her tongue out. “Who’s poor heart did you break recently?”

“No one’s, as far as I’m aware,” he answered, looking thoughtfully down to his phone like he was expecting a text from a vindictive lover any minute.

It meant that he was caught unaware by the large hand that patted him on the back. Even with her headphones in, Feyre could here the small humph of air whooshing out of his chest.

“Rhys has been in a dry spell.” The large one’s grin was sharp enough to cut diamonds.

“Thanks Cass,” he said dryly.

The blond smacked her lips together, entirely unsympathetic. “Maybe you’d have better luck if you weren’t such a—”

“Jerk?” He interrupted smugly.

She laughed. “Maybe we should ask Lucien to play the song again. You clearly didn’t get the memo.”

I think that song has a really important message to take away as we get closer to the holidays. I hope you’re listening, Rhys, because there’s another song request dedicated to you. They’ve asked me to play ‘Silent Night’ to remind you what the cafe should sound like when other people are trying to study.

“It’s someone in the cafe, then,” she heard Rhys say, followed by screeching chairs as they presumably looked around to find the culprit.

Feyre relaxed her shoulders and concentrated heavily on the paper in front of her, smothering the temptation to look up. She thought she could get away with it if they thought she was listening to her headphones, and she made a point of bobbing her head like she was listening to pop music and not a Christmas ballad.

She’d told them off, in her quiet little way. Now she should really go back to studying, instead of listening intently to their conversation. Instead of staring at her paper, doodling a picture of a man with impish features, plush lips, and sparkling eyes.

Alright Velaris University, that was Frank Sinatra’s ‘Silent Night’. If you’ve been listening you’ll know we’ve had a few anonymous requests come in with a message for Rhys. Well, Rhys has just written in with a response. He says you should come ask him to be quiet yourself. This is ‘You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch’.

Feyre scoffed. She couldn’t help it. He was the one saying Mariah Carey was overrated and she was the Grinch?

“Looks like we found your Grinch, Rhys,” one of the women said—the blonde, if Feyre had to guess.

Bashful, she looked up to meet the five pairs of eyes watching her. None of them looked mad, at least. Rhys was grinning.

“There you are.” He stood in a graceful, slow movement. “Do you need help growing your heart a few sizes?”

Her cheeks burned. She quickly covered the doodle as he approached. “I’m trying to study.”

“Are you sure?” He pulled out the chair across from her and dropped himself elegantly into its seat, propping his ankles on the table like the world belonged to him. “By the sound of things, you’re picking fights over the radio.”

Rhys started to peer at the papers in front of her. She hastily snatched a sheet of equations away from his prying fingers. “Lucien is my friend,” she said. “And his taste is very classy.”

“Ah, I see. I insulted your friend.” His eyes fixed to that cup of coffee that had long gone cold. “Allow me to make it up to you? A coffee on me?”

Without waiting for permission, he sat up and reached for the paper cup sat in front of her. Then— “Feyre,” he read off the side. Smiled like he was far too proud of himself. “That’s a pretty name. Fey-ruh. Let’s make a deal.”

She didn’t like the way he leaned over the table. Didn’t like the way her breath caught, and her pulse thudded, and his cologne wrapped around her, tugging her in, in, in until all she could see were those pretty deep blue eyes.

Feyre played her best impression of indifference. “What?”

She didn’t think she did a very good job of it. Her voice came out too shaky.

“If I buy you a coffee and tell my friends to shut up, will you let me sit with you?”

“I need to study,” she insisted.

He held up his free hand amicably. “We’ll study. I’ll keep my mouth shut, too. But at the end, you’ll let me walk you home?”

Feyre pressed her lips together. She studied his bright eyes, then the warm brown skin on his high cheekbones—which she could have sworn were flushed. Her eyes flickered over his shoulder, to the group of friends that were watching them so, so intently. She couldn’t decide from their vested interest if they were waiting for her to accept or to turn him down.

But he did have the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen, and they were practically begging her to accept.

“I ordered a latte,” she said finally.

Rhys slumped backwards, a smile blooming on his face. “One latte coming up, Feyre darling.”

She ducked her face back to the paper the moment he was gone, not quite feeling brave enough to gauge the reactions of their audience. Feyre bounced her leg, rolling her pen between her fingers as she listened to them murmur to each other. What a way to meet his friends.

Hello listeners. Bear with me for a moment. We have another request that I feel compelled to honor.

If Feyre listened closely, she could have sworn that Lucien’s microphone picked up a feminine giggle. Quiet, like it was in the background.

Rhys has written in with another request, and he wants to dedicate this one to Feyre. This is ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’.

[kaiju-krew]

Does Kevin have his signature innocence in your art or is he just as bad as his bros?

He's baby. Soft baby boy.......

Idc if it's overplayed at this point, but the heads having distinct personalities even when they reform is fun to me. San/Kevin being more quiet and thoughtful, less inclined to violence/anger, and reasonable is what makes him into a more dynamic character. While fully rabid-for-domination Ghido can be fun, it doesn't work for my personal au (where Ghido reformed via cells from Kev) where he's chilled enough to live on Earth without causing too much of a ruckus. He'll still have his moments and Goji n others will put him in his place but overall he's a lot calmer. Ichi is still obnoxious as hell but Ni and Kev keep him in line most of the time......... most.

It's self indulgent but I like to think he has a bit of a redemption arc via talking with Mothra but that takes a long time and a lot of talking with The Bug Therapist of Monster Island.

[fragileizywriting]

nino and alya spend so much time talking about how much they love each other. it’s not annoying, it’s not obnoxious. the two of them fit together so well, so cute, so perfect, that kitty is always so in love with their love. the way they have internal jokes, always quipping back and forth, is always just so cute.

kitty excuses herself for the bathroom whenever they’re at lunch. she goes to the bathroom stall. locks the latch. double checks it. and does her best not to rip open her jeans with how hard she digs her nails into it.

the tears come easily. it’s so easy for her to cry, shoulders up to her ears, staying so quiet and silent because she doesn’t want anyone outside the stall to hear. she cries. cries harder. biting her lip until it bleeds.

“princess,” plagg tries. “come on, you’re hurting yourself.”

it’s time like these she remembers that she’s lonely. when the mascara starts to run, all 20€ all down her cheeks. she rubs at her eyes. rubs more. all the while ignoring how she’s split open her bottom lip, tasting copper and salt.

“did you see nino order for her when she went to go refill her drink?” she whispers.

plagg sighs. “i don’t think—”

“something as simple as that. something so tiny. so miniscule, i—” she cuts herself with a watery inhale. “so tiny. i don’t even have that.”

“you have friends, though. alya could order for you no problem, she knows your order by heart. nino could probably, too, if you asked. even adrien—”

“i know. i— i know. but…”

“yeah.”

“you know what i mean, plagg.”

“i do. i know, princess.”

“i don’t want the grand confessions,” she admits, more to herself than anything else, as plagg rubs at the back of her palm. “i don’t want… the big lovey-dovey. wait, i do. but that’s not even…”

“it’s okay.” plagg always has to deal with so much of her crying. so much of her aching, begging, for someone to care about her. someone to love her. it makes her sick. nauseas. wanting something that she doesn’t have until she’s stumbling around with watery tears.

“i want someone to order for me while i get a drink. something so small. something so… stupid.” she fists her hair hard enough for it to hurt, ignoring the warnings plagg mumbles under his breath. “it’s so stupid. i feel so stupid. why do i want something so stupid?”

“it’s not stupid.”

“why can’t i be like you? i want to just like cheese. i want to not care about love, i want to—”

“it’s not stupid,” he repeats. “i do care about love, but not in the way that a lot of humans do. i love you, and you know that. i care about you. i miss you whenever you leave me alone to do whatever. i hate being far from you because i’m scared you’ll get into trouble without me. love isn’t stupid. maybe overplayed since the last time i had an owner. but not stupid.”

“i want someone to love me so much that i can have the little things.” she gives into looking for toilet paper to wipe the rest of her makeup away. “i want the relationship that alya and nino have.”

“and you’ll get there.”

“what if i don’t? what if i— what if i never get there? what if everyone my age finds a partner gets married and gets a job and, and, moves on and has”—she pauses to blow her nose—“kids, vacation, curled up with someone. what if i’m the last one to cuddle someone into the couch while watching a movie? what if i’m left behind, going to weddings, watching all of my friends get married left and right but i’m just undatable, untouchable, unapproachable? what if i’ll never get my chance to have someone kiss my forehead when i had a long day, what if—”

the door to the bathroom opens, and even though she’s still in her stall, she shuts her mouth. chewing on her lips, still, but staying quiet as tears flow freely. it’s no one looking for her, she hasn’t stayed long enough.

“please don’t leave me,” she finishes, whispering it so no one can hear.

“i’m not going to. you’re my holder. the best holder i’ve ever had, princess. and you’re my friend. and i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

“this isn’t going to get resolved today,” plagg continues. “it may not even be resolved this year, or even the next. but i will always be here. i’ll always be right next to you. you and me, always. you’ve got people in your corner.”

[imaginethathaikyuu]

kinktober - day seventeen

tendou satori - overheard 

kinktober faq kinktober prompt list  

NSFW warning featuring: mutual masturbation, dubcon, tendou overhears u and decides to join the fun wink wink, very very light dom tendou/sub reader  other tags: neighbors to friends to lovers, a lot of exposition, tendou works at a bakery isn’t that cute

gender neutral reader  word count: 2745

-

Thin walls. 

Tendou had come to realize that was the reason his apartment’s rent was dirt cheap. 

He’d noticed it a year ago on the second day he moved in; his hearing was far too perceptive to not notice every creek in someone else’s floorboard or knock against a neighbor’s wall, but he could hear much more than that from any adjacent apartment. 

The person in the apartment to his right was out of their mind to think their singing in the shower sounded anything other than torturous. The person above him had two dogs that made about as much noise as a bull. The guy across the hall talked to himself, a lot. 

And the person to his left was you. He didn’t hear much from you, at first. You were a couple of years older than him; pretty and sweet and kind to the core. An ideal neighbor, if you asked Satori, and a good friend in recent months. He’d lend you laundry detergent when you needed it, and you’d invite him over to have tea as a thank you. He mentioned he worked at the bakery at the end of the street, and the next day you made good on your promise to visit him at work and try anything he recommended. When you realized you both had the same taste in comics, you started your own mini book club, using each other’s collections as your personal libraries, and spending hours discussing the intricacies of a single page. 

You were close by, and he thought that maybe that was why you had become such good friends so quickly. You liked his taste in books and he liked the way you made his tea, and silent moments with you in your apartment were just that. He’d gotten comfortable with your presence before he ever realized it, long before lingering touches or caught stares or shared secrets. 

Maybe it was the night you fell asleep in the middle of watching his favorite movie that he finally put it all together; when the only noise you had made in an hour was a weird snore that made him laugh loud enough to wake you up as you stayed sleeping anyway. 

Your head fell against his shoulder as the credits started playing, and he was ready to sit there all night. 

“It was good,” you mumbled, having woken up without him realizing. 

“Was it?” he asked, and he lifted his arm and draped it over your shoulder, and you just curled into him. 

“Mhm. Really liked it, Satori.” 

“I’m sure.” He laughed, and you laughed, too, and he felt warm without noticing it. He was so in his place that he didn’t even know. He could laugh with you and pull you closer to him and press a kiss onto the side of your head, all without thinking, because he didn’t need to. 

But the moment shattered at the sound of a baby crying from an apartment down the hall, and it pulled Satori right back down to earth. Like he’d been suddenly reminded of the existence of everyone else in the world, realizing that it wasn’t just the two of you and this one room. 

His arm around you felt heavier. Your hand on his leg was burning. He realized the kiss was probably too far, and so he offered to go and let you sleep. You pressed further into him, seeming to contrast the fact that you didn’t decline, and Satori soon returned to his apartment to find a collage of questions waiting for him. 

Up until recently, you were just a neighbor. And then you were just a friend, until you weren’t - until he realized he was happier with you than he was anywhere else. 

As his heart grew fonder for you he found himself paying more and more attention to every noise he heard coming from behind the wall he shared with you. 

Soon, he knew the routine you followed every night. He could hear it. 

As soon as you got home from work, you turned your music on and played it loud. The songs weren’t much of his taste at first, but he learned to get used to you playing songs you loved on repeat. And he’d do nothing but smile as he listened to you listening to these songs, learning more of the words each time you played them, until you moved on to the next single to overplay. 

You showered at the exact same time every night; the pipes in this building were obnoxiously loud, at times they sounded broken. And he only just realized the whirring noise that started at seven every evening was coming from your room. He’d ask you why you kept your showers on a strict schedule, if he didn’t feel like such a creep for knowing that in the first place, but he simply chalked it up to another one of your quirks. 

And over time, as your relationship started to evolve past friendship, landing in some uncanny space where you held hands all the time and kissed only sometimes, Satori found himself even more in tune with every creak from your floorboard. Every song you played. Every word you mumbled to yourself. Every shower you took. And every whimper, gasp and moan he heard fall from your lips late at night. 

It was embarrassing, at first, when he heard those sweet sounds and had to question what in the hell you were doing. And as it clicked in his mind, he ran to take a cold shower and forget the embarrassment caused by accidentally eavesdropping on you. You were having an intimate moment and he had no right to listen to that, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

He’d do almost anything to drown out the sounds because the thoughts you were causing him to have were nothing but pure sin, and he could hardly stand to look you in the eyes the day after he listened to your moans and thought about being the one causing them. 

Satori couldn’t help that you sounded so pretty while touching yourself, and some nights he was just too lazy to find his headphones to drown out the noise; some nights he couldn’t stop himself from lying in bed as your moans got louder and his cock grew harder, throbbing with every gasp and groan coming from you, aching to be touched to the sounds. He’d have to grind into a pillow for some relief, but it was never enough. 

You were so loud, pleasuring yourself as if no one could hear you, and he had to wonder if you were doing it on purpose. Couldn’t you hear every one of his gasps and stifled groans as he was rutting into the mattress, too shameful to fuck his fist? Didn’t you know he could hear every noise from your lips, every creak of your bed frame as you rocked your hips, every sweet sound your sex made as you fucked yourself? 

You knew - you had to know, or else you wouldn’t put on such a show every single night. And tonight was anything but an exception. 

But tonight… he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t take it. His hand moved on its own accord to his shorts, and they were tugged off before he even knew what he was doing. 

“Fuck.” He said it loud. Loud enough for you to hear. And he was sure you heard him because you started moaning even louder, and Satori’s resolve was gone. 

He’d never worked up to actually getting off while he listened to you. It was one thing he just couldn’t do, no matter how much he wanted to - that would be too far, too wrong. 

But he couldn’t take it anymore - he needed to cum, and he needed to do it while listening to you. And maybe he’d feel guilty afterwards but it was your fault - he’d tell himself that you knew what you were doing just to feel better about it. 

He heard you begging, “Fuck, please - please,” and his hips jerked at the thought of you begging for him, begging for his cock and everything he’d love to give you. Is that what you were thinking about, too? 

It only took a few seconds of stroking himself for Satori to realize that this wasn’t going to last very long. You sounded so fucking pretty, panting and whining and begging; Satori could almost see you lying there underneath him, needing him, obeying him, giving in to him. 

He wondered if he got you too worked up on your movie date hours ago, when you ended up in his lap grinding against him to the beat of the forgotten movie. No matter how hard he pulled you down it wasn’t enough friction, and despite all the dirty words he’d whispered to you neither of you seemed brave enough to push things along. You pulled back from his kiss, obviously overwhelmed and breathing hard, and the last bit of his willpower stopped him from just devouring you right there. He could see it was too much, so he told you, “Let’s finish the movie,” and that’s what the two of you did, but the way you kept your thighs squeezed together and fidgeted with the rings on his fingers didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

And as it turns out, he’d gotten you so worked up that you had to release all that tension yourself. How rude, to take that pleasure from him - to lie in bed and play with yourself when he was the one that caused all that excitement. It was his lips, his hands, his cock that had you soaked and sounding so needy. And what Satori would give to let you have more of what you needed - he was torturing himself, really, by holding back and not taking you those short hours ago. 

But there he was, touching himself when you were the one who deserved to be; maybe he was a hypocrite, but you left him with no other choice. And he’d been moaning just as loud as you were without even realizing it, but just the same, you had quietened down. 

It was nothing more than petty whimpers and whines coming from you now, mixed with heavy breaths and a rare squeak from your bed frame. What were you doing? Were you holding back? 

You were mumbling something, and even though he couldn’t quite make out what you were saying it was still turning him on, keeping his hand tugging his cock, leaving him breathless and needy - but then, what he swore he heard you say had him shaking. He had to stop and just breathe so he didn’t bust right then, because there was no way he heard you whimpering his name - he couldn’t have heard you right, you couldn’t have been brave enough to do that.

But then, again, he heard it. “Please… Satori… want you so bad, please…” 

And, “Fuck,” his mind might’ve been playing tricks on him but he didn’t care, “holy shit,” he’d moan your name right back to you and fail at keeping it modest, “oh my god, I need you - fuck - so bad, I need you,” and at that point he didn’t know what was stopping him from going next door and giving both of you what you needed. 

The rush this was giving him was enough; the images of you he’d thought up would last until he could see the real thing. He already had you begging for him - this was just the build up, just to have a little fun before he gave in and knocked on your door and gave you everything you were asking him for.  

The more you moaned his name and whined out pleas, the closer he got to cumming; it wasn’t his hand getting him there, it was only you pushing him along. His fist was nowhere near good enough, not when you were right next door waiting for him, already soaking wet and prepped to take his cock. But he could probably get off to the thought of burying himself in you alone - and being so close is what kept him from stopping. 

He heard you say, “I’m close - gonna cum,” a warning likely meant for him but an announcement to every resident on your apartment floor with how loud you said it. But Satori felt like he could hardly hear you - he was one step ahead of you and he felt like his head was underwater, like you’d thrown him deep into some euphoric ocean and all he had to do was swim to the top.  

He was sure he’d never felt so good in his life, and the only thing that could’ve made it better was seeing you unraveling for him rather than only listening. He knew you were looking prettier on the other side of the wall than in his head but the mental image was all he needed until he could breathe again. 

It felt like forever until he broke the surface, and when he did he struggled to catch his breath or shake off the tingling in his legs. And he was met with silence; unfamiliar and uncomfortable. What’s worse, he had a mess to clean up - a mess you caused, much better suited to be on your stomach rather than his own. 

He tried not to drown in the quiet, tried not thinking about what exactly just happened minutes ago for the sake of avoiding regret and guilt and fear. It wasn’t that big of a deal, he thought, yet the irrational thoughts crept up on him anyway. 

Maybe you didn’t mean it. Maybe you were only using him to get off. Maybe it was his fault for taking it so seriously - it was nothing more than risky, sexy fun. 

It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t like you so much. If you were nothing more than two neighbors taking advantage of thin walls to get off together, he’d have no issue. But that isn’t what you were - not to him, at least, though maybe you felt differently. 

Satori was overthinking all of it, but you were being so fucking quiet, and he didn’t know what to do about it; he was finally tugging his shorts back on, and debating saying something loud enough to get your attention, when the silence was finally broken with a knock on his door. 

He was sure a neighbor had heard that escapade and decided to call in a complaint, and he was preparing himself for that conversation when he opened the door and found you on the other side of it. 

And even with all of his overthinking, this conversation wasn’t one he was ready for. 

“Oh - hey.” 

“Hi.” 

You were cute - he came close to just blurting it out, confessing every thought he had as he watched you acting shy and docile after working up the courage to knock on his door. 

“Do you wanna…” 

“Talk about what just happened?” 

You laughed, that same laugh you gave him every time he said something dumb or too smug. It was never at anything funny, but he found it cute, anyway. 

“We could just watch a movie instead.” 

“Just watch a movie?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, and you can pick so I can take a nap.” 

He scoffed at you but stepped to the side to let you in, anyway, despite that hit to his fragile ego. “Fine - you just make sure to keep your hands to yourself this time.” 

“No promises,” you called back, having already made yourself comfortable on his couch. 

And that’s when something seemed to snap - this tension was unbearable and now that he knew you were wanting him, it was pointless to keep up an act. You both felt it and there was no reason to hide it, or pretend it wasn’t there, so Satori wasn’t going to. He was going to take this as far as you would let him; he was going to make you his as long as you would say yes. This wasn’t just friendly anymore, and there was no charade worth keeping up. 

He knew why you came over - you were just too afraid to say it. But he’d work that out of you eventually; he’d have you begging for what you wanted soon. And he could hardly wait for it. 

“Then why don’t we just skip to that?”