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#I think you can guess which category I fall into…
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I love all the Criminal Minds fandom girlies. The Spencer girlies are so deep and romantic. The Hotch girlies just give me ‘pretty girl’ energy. The Garcia girlies are adorkable rays of sunshine. And the Jemily girlies are feral sexually confused gremlins with raging mommy issues. I love it here—I am amongst my people…
(Kinda tempted to make some aesthetic boards for this not gonna lie—send me a request if anyone want that)
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Hrmm... put together a roommates quiz finally after years of thinking it would be an interesting idea lol.. Though obviously not meant to be taken super seriously, I just like thinking about this aspect of personality compatibility. Like yeah, maybe you could get along with someone just chatting with them, but living together is such a different thing. .. curiouse...
#Not that I think that many people would really care since I barely know anyone on tumblr in real life and would never live with random#internet strangers lol but... idk.. I made this to give to friends from time to time and thought... why not post it here too#just out of sheer curiosity if anyone takes it what the most common results would be and etc.#My initial assumption is that most people would probably fall into the 'maybe' category and that either extreme of 'best roomates'#and 'worst roomates' would be the least common#very long also since I like to be thorough I guess#THOUGH... upon second thought... tumblr is home of the like Weird Introverts Who Sit Inside All The Time.. so maybe it's more#likely to come across compatible poeple on here. given that many of the questions are about how meticulous#people are with their scehdules or how often they invite friends over or if they like to mostly stay inside etc.#(since personally I think having a roommate coming and going and bringing random people over all the time would be too chaotic#lol... I need a peaceful quiet household)#Also I kind of don't like the way uquiz seems to do results. I was hoping it would be a number tally? I used some sort of quiz making site#before where you weight the question responses with a number (so the 'Best' response is worth a 0#The worst is worth like 5 points. and all the in between are like 1 - 4 points or something). So then it is actually possible to have a#''perfect score'' category (someone who gets a literal 0 points). and also you could weight some EXTREMELY bad answers#to add like +10 to the score instead of just +5. And someone who got the MAX possible points would be the WORST compatibility. etc.#But uquiz seems to just be like ''which category did you score towards the MOST'. So someone can give some pretty bad answers#that are VERY non compatible. but as long as MOST of their answers landed in a 'compatible' category#then they would still be listed as compatible despite still actually having some dealbreakers in there. Which is also possible with the#'every answer is a number amount' ranking system too. but I feel like that one does allow for a little more customization#and accuracy (like making the dealbreakers add like...+40 to the score or something so that#there's basically NO way that someone could answer with one of those and still get a good score. Or the ability to have a literal#'perfect score' (getting a zero) etc.#BUt anyway lol... inchresting.. inchresting... curious to consider maybe making a uquiz#for the characters in the gameI'm making like.. which npc are you type quiz or something#now that I've made one and seen how it works.. hrmm hrmm....#(< game will not even be done for like another year but still thinking about nonsense like this lol)
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rpfisfine · 8 months
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(hi im back I got scared bc I worried I'd focused too much on myself in my last ask and the demons took over Help) idk why im shocked that there aren't any fics unique to wattpad I dont think the boyboy following is a wattpad bunch we're all old pretentious fucks (endearing). I rly hope they're cool with fics,,, i hope they Get It,,, that would be really sick. they've surprised me before, they can do it again!
you ARE being brave holy shit if I was in your position I think I'd shit myself to DEATH this tension is killing me but I agree your fics are so well written like they're rpf but more importantly they're really good??? truly moving?? literary even??? and i have hope that they'll appreciate that too
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HIIIIIIIIIII noooooooo omg not at all!!! its just that ive genuinely sucked ass at answering asks in general since the dawn of time and in the past couple of weeks i have gotten more asks than ive ever received before in my entire life LOL plus my memory is shit so if i dont answer Immediately i forget ive even been sent anything in the first place and its just this whole thing but me not responding wasnt caused by anything you did in the slightest i LOVE getting asks from you!!!
god i literally know it makes complete sense but at the same time it surprised me as well maybe wattpad rly isnt what i remember it being anymore maybe it has fallen off in a pretty major way since 2014..... dude i literally cannot exaggerate how much i want that to be true LOL i rly rly rly hope they are too like i know logically they wouldnt be making the video if they werent but still...... tbh aleksa does strike me as someone who has legitimately written self insert fanfiction abt him & alex in the past so. i think there's some hope for us (joking obvs. unless..)
im gonna be real there hasnt been one moment in the past couple of days where i wasnt shitting and pissing and vomiting myself to death i literally wake up in cold sweat nowadays expecting my inbox to be flooded w anons being like DUDE THE VIDEO IS OUT FHFGNG.. like its BAD the tension is kiling me as well. ohhhhhmy god stop you guys are sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo niceys to me i cant believe it..... god.....them apprer . them Complim , them ap- i cant even say it . is something i genuinely honestly cannot even begin to think abt like you guys r being so brave and normal abt this and r trying to comfort me constantly and i just feel like i havent made any mental progress at all since the day of the fateful discovery LOL like ever since i learned its not gonna be posted to their patreon w roughly 5000 subscibers like i hoped but instead to their yt channel with 800k+ subscibers i have been trying even Harder to gaslight myself into thinking my fics somehow wont make it into the video bc when i like sit down and make a serious attempt to entertain the possibility of 800k ppl potentially seeing my writing its just . Like my brain legitimately shuts down. i just cannot physically or mentally comprehend that number at all its not REAL!!!! to me!!!!!! get me out of here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Hello! I just saw your "welsh word for microwave" post, and 1.) thank you for the information and 2.) now I'm very curious what the three words for jellyfish are, if you care to share?
ABSOLUTELY, FRIEND
These fall into the categories of 'official term', 'slang term' and 'children's term' but NOT respectively:
Sglefren fôr (lit: "the sea skater")
Pysgodyn Wibli Wobli (lit: "wibbly wobbly fish")
Cont y môr (lit: "the cunt of the sea")
Hey can you guess the official term. Can you guess. Guess. Which is the official term, do you reckon. Which one's proper. Can you guess.
Edit: I just remembered this is an option now:
Don't bother reblogging for sample size this is deeply stupid
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ghelgheli · 6 months
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Afab people can also develop a gendered subjectivity in response to transmisogyny, whether they've been victims of it or not, just as amab people can develop it as a result of misogyny. So, if transfemininity is also defined by this characteristic, afab transfem also fit into it. Your objection to this fact is just a bias based, at best, on ignorance.
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It's is a bioessentialist prescription because you're adopting a conception of transfemininity that dictates that to be transfeminine, you have to fulfil to expectation of being male assignment at birth. this is no different from someone who uses the bioessentialist conception of womanhood which require female assignement at birth. Both are form bioessentialism that we should not perpetuate at our level, but rather we should re-thinking these gender categories in a way that doesn't align with bioessetialist conceptions
whoops! you caught me out aha. I forgot that afab trans people have subjectivities shaped by transmisogyny. I also forgot that cis womanhood is defined in large part thru transmisogyny: the fear of being clocky, constant affirmation by distancing from the tranny-object except when it's hot to have a bit of a jawline now, palatability as opposition to the monstrosity of being the shemale. I guess cis women are transfeminine too!
let's remember, while we're at it, that transmisogyny is the spectre that haunts the subject of the cis man. the gendered border policing lest one take a step too close to sissification, the prohibition on behaviour that could threaten to make him a girl—oh! cis men are transfeminine too!
in fact, we're all transfeminine! transmisogyny, as the recognition and attempted correction of the tranny-glitch that undoes the threads of gender, asserts itself against all of us. it is impossible to be a gendered subject without having contours shaped by the domineering pressures of transmisogyny, because that is what demands we all fall in line to the gendered nightmare. oops! all transfem!
but wait. a certain group, deprived now of unique identification, has just lost the ability to describe its gendered situation. it has been swallowed up by the seas of inclusive thinking or whatever. I guess that's okay :) I guess we'll drop our complaints :) we were a nuisance in the first place, weren't we? sorry. so sorry for existing this way.
listen to me. listen to me not as your fucking ephemeral gender oracle telling you what you want to hear before being thrown away, not as your bullshit mouthpiece granting you entrance to this mystical domain you want to claim for yourself, but as a god damn person for once—an impossible thing to ask of the transmisogynistic tranny wannabe, I know, but try!
you cannot escape hegemonic gender and its violent devices with flaccid platitudes about "re-thinking these gender categories" as though by changing the names of things you can change the things themselves. transmisogyny is the bioessentialism, and transmisogyny is why I am a failed man—the faggot embodied—something less than both man and woman—a gender traitor specifically against my assignment itself. and if you cannot recognize the unique ways that transmisogyny is deployed unrelentingly and irrevocably against the ones who will never be able to resort to birth assignment as a defense—against the ones who cannot throw their hands up and say, "I was never supposed to be a man in the first place!"—you have not understood the first thing about the root source of transmisogyny, and it is no surprise to me that you have no sense of transfemininity as a political category, a(n un)gendered class.
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ms-demeanor · 4 months
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if we're like, showing graphs and stuff, this is the type that i think a lot of people on tumblr are thinking of when they think about the economy.
Only one third of people with family incomes below $50k spent less than their income each month. I would guess that a lot of people on tumblr who get aggro about this topic (and the vast majority of people on r/povertyfinance, who discuss this sort of thing a lot) fall into this earning category.
Real wage increases only matter if you got a raise (one third of workers got a raise last year, which means that 2/3rds didn't - included in the economic wellbeing report linked above). Whether or not rent is outpacing wages only matters if you're not going to be rent burdened (more than a third of renter households are cost burdened in every state and 12 million rental households spend more than half their income on rent). Employment rates lose a lot of meaning when you're working multiple jobs to make ends meet (the percentage of multiply employed workers was falling in the US from 1996 to the 2010s, when it plateaued, then it started rising slightly then collapsed in 2020 and has been rising steeply since then and it's too soon to tell if it's going to go back to the plateau or keep going up).
Four in ten adults in the US is carrying some level of medical debt (even people who are insured) and 60% of people with medical debt have cut back on food, clothes or household items; about 50% of people with medical debt have used up all their savings.
Tumblr is the broke people website and yeah, people who are working two jobs to afford $900 for one room and utilities in a three bedroom apartment are not going to feel great about the economy even if real wages are raising and inflation-adjusted rents are actually pretty stable. "The Rent is too Damn High" has been a meme for 14 years so, like, yeah. Even if it's pretty stable when adjusted for inflation it is stable and HIGH.
It's hard to feel good about the economy when you're spending the last few days of the pay period hoping nothing unexpected hits your account, and it's VERY frustrating to be told that the economy's doing well when you've had to start selling blood to buy groceries.
Sure, unemployment is low, that's neat. It's good that inflation has stabilized (it genuinely has; prices are not likely to fall back to pre-inflation rates and eventually you'll likely be paid enough to reach equilibrium, but a lot of people aren't there yet).
But, like, it costs eight thousand dollars a year out of pocket to keep my spouse alive. I'd guess that we've paid off about a third of the 40-ish thousands of dollars he's racked up since his heart attack. His medical debt is why I don't have a retirement plan beyond "I guess I'll die?" So talking about how good the economy is kind of feels like being chained in the bottom of a pit that is slowly filling with water while people on the surface talk about the fact that the rain is tapering off. Neat! That's good! But I can't really see it from where I'm standing.
Inflation really is getting better. My state just enacted a $20 minimum wage for fast food workers. The Biden administration has worked hard to reduce many kinds of healthcare costs. A lot of people have had significant portions of their student debt cancelled.
But a lot of people are still having trouble affording groceries and it doesn't seem helpful to say "your perception of the economy is decoupled from the reality of the economy" on the "can I get a few dollars for food today?" website.
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whatsnewalycat · 6 months
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SURRENDER
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Part Two of Ruthless | Stepdad Joel Miller x f!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)
Word Count: 6.2k+
Warnings: non-canon, Boston Joel, dub con, step-cest, sneaky sex, use of the word daddy in a sexual context, dad kink (that’s a thing right?), age gap, degradation, praise kink, avoidance, silent treatment, sneaking into bedroom at night, angst, collective grief, mentions of explosions and gunshots (nothing graphic), *it’s about the yearning*, hair pulling, no physical descriptions of reader aside from hair can be pulled, reader is 18-19, Joel being a bad dom and a bad caretaker, hot shower, food mention, mentions of religion, unethical D/s dynamics, dry humping, anal sex, physical restraint, face fucking, sub-space unlocked, dirty talk, dd/lg maybe i think, masochism, like a lick of fluff if u squint 
A/N: Heeeey buddy. As stated above, this is a second part to Ruthless. Big thanks to my love @frannyzooey for the help and hype, you're the best. Please be mindful of the warnings and tell me what cults you think exist in post-outbreak tlou.
[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]
———
As the 19-year anniversary of Outbreak Day draws near, unrest festers in the streets of Boston.
Whenever August ticks over into September, residents of the QZ seem to divide into three distinct categories: people who want to forget, people who won’t let them forget, and people who are too young to remember. 
Born post-apocalypse, you fall into this third category. 
Which doesn’t mean the ripples of loss don’t touch you, contrary to what some may think. You still lost something. Everyone did. 
This fact is apparent when you take the scenic route home from your job posting at the distribution center. 
Rubble crunches under your shoes as you walk down the crowded sidewalk, passing by a message spray-painted over the battered brick building: WE’VE BEEN FORSAKEN. 
Graffitied sentiments like these pop up constantly this time of year. Overnight, almost. Your mom and Joel mostly blame Fireflies for the vandalism. The bombs, too. Apparently they stir shit up to make people uneasy, then recruit those who seem susceptible. That’s what your mom thinks, anyway. ‘Leveraging their grief against them,’ she says. 
You think it might be more than that, though. 
Yesterday you saw three separate arguments break out in the streets. When you were taking inventory of k-rations this morning, an explosion went off so close-by that boxes rattled off the shelves. It was the second bombing this week, and you don’t foresee it getting better until October. 
Sure, the Fireflies lay claim to the lion’s share of vandalism and destruction, but their activity is consistent year round. They are the baseline. But this? This is different. 
You attribute the excess chaos to this heavy, static feeling in the air. It clings to your skin and gets stuck under your nails like a thick cloud of invisible dust or spores. Microscopic particles embed themselves in the cracks and creases of each person inside the QZ, fertile ground for clusters of violence to sprout up at every turn. 
If you had to guess, you’d say this phenomenon probably spans the globe. All of you felt the loss of Outbreak Day, the whole human collective. Echoes of what humanity lost will likely still be heard a thousand years from now. 
Some people refuse to accept this. 
Like the guy a few strides ahead of you, who walks by an orange spray-painted message that reads REMEMBER WHAT YOU LOST and sneers, “Almost twenty goddamn years, fuckin’ let it go and move on.” 
You watch him. See his neck get all red as he mutters to himself and clenches his fists at his sides. He looks around like he expects someone to challenge him. Nobody does. 
This doesn’t seem to satisfy him. 
Further up the sidewalk, he encounters a memorial made up of candles and wilting flowers hugging the side of a residential building. He kicks it over and repeats his earlier sentiment, this time louder and directed towards the brick wall. 
“It’s been twenty fucking years, get the fuck over it already!” 
Of course, a passing spectator indulges him. 
“Hey—watch it, asshole!” 
The two men puff up their chests and start yelling back and forth, so you cut right down an alleyway to avoid the situation completely. 
When you arrive home, you find Joel at the dining room table, hunched over a map, holding a glass of whiskey like it’s a lifeline. 
Neither of you say hello, but when you glance up while untying your gritty shoelaces, you catch him staring at you. 
A jolt of electricity shoots through you. 
He corrects himself, returning his eyes to the map as he takes a big swig from his glass. 
“Mom home?” 
“No.” 
Nodding, you rise to your feet and slip out of your shoes, squirming with the excitement that one syllable brings you. 
“When’s she gonna be home?” 
He doesn’t look at you. Just shrugs and takes a sip of whiskey, too engrossed in his project to spare you attention. 
For weeks, he’s been trying his hardest to pretend you don’t exist, which would be typical behavior if he didn’t fuck you dumb a few weeks ago. Sometimes you’re not even sure that what happened between you was real. 
But, then again, sometimes… sometimes you feel him staring at you when he doesn’t think you’ll notice. Sometimes he touches your waist as he passes by. Sometimes at night you hear him pacing the hall outside your bedroom, the faint squeak of the warped floorboards giving him away. 
When this happens, you stare at the door and will him to do it. Aching with something stronger than want, you pray for him to cross the threshold. But he never does. 
You exhale through slack lips and wrinkle your nose at the canned goods. 
“Hungry?”
He grunts in response, which is Joel for ‘I could eat.’
Tilting your head at the handwritten labels, you present the options, “Stew or… meat and beans?” 
Another grunt, roughly translating to ‘Both options are fucking terrible,’ a sentiment with which you wholeheartedly agree. You grab the stew and empty it into a saucepan on the gas stovetop. 
While it heats, you steal glances at Joel, noticing the rigidity in his demeanor. His set jaw and tense muscles. The deep creases in his furrowed brow. 
You’ve coexisted with him long enough to understand he’s not immune to the heady thrum of anguish in the air this time of year. Like you said, nobody is. 
Joel distinctly falls into the “people who want to forget” category of the forsaken, but carries whatever or whoever he lost on Outbreak Day like a ten thousand-pound weight on his broad shoulders. He white-knuckles his way through the season of chaos and mourning and tries to act like it doesn’t affect him, but it does. 
You can tell, not just from the way he holds the grief captive in his body, but also from the obvious indulgence in his favorite coping mechanism: planning. 
Joel is a meticulous planner. 
Between smuggling runs, he comes home after a long day of manual labor at some job site and unwinds by plotting logistics. Drinking, too, but he clearly has a favorite. 
Hours will go by while he pours over reference material, maps or blueprints, making addendums of any notable changes he and your mom discovered. After this, he deliberates. Joel could chew up weeks with this step. He plots out each possible route, taking into consideration all the penciled-in shortcuts and caches they’ve stashed within a 30-mile radius, then determines the most beneficial path for their next big adventure. 
Given FEDRA’s current paranoid state, with the increased patrols and surveillance and whatnot, your mom and Joel won’t be making a trip outside anytime soon. But still, he drinks and plots and winds himself up into a tight obsessive knot. 
You divvy up the simmering stew into two bowls, placing one next to his glass of bootleg booze while you take a seat across the table from him. He ignores your presence, just flicks his eyes around the map like it’s supposed to give him the answers. 
When you’re halfway done with your bowl, you gently prod him, “It’s gonna get cold.” 
Sitting up in his chair, he sighs and scrubs his face with his hands, then folds up the map and sets it aside. 
The two of you eat in silence. Each wordless second twists hot beneath your skin. Your mind wanders to the dig of his fingertips in your soft flesh. The sting of his flattened palm. The stretch of his thick cock. The things he said to you—fuck.  
You’re tempted to tell him to do it again. To tell him that you’re still abiding by his rules. That you don’t sneak out anymore. That you haven’t felt the sweet bliss of release for weeks because you don’t fucking come without his permission. 
Over and over, you rehearse it in your head. You imagine yourself telling him, ‘I’ve been so good for you and you haven’t even noticed.’
The sound of him clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts. 
He shifts in his seat a little, studying you, “You still seein’ that boy downstairs?” 
Your heart stutters. Heat floods your veins as you shake your head. 
“Why not?” 
All you can do is stare at him while trying to verbalize an answer. For weeks, you ached for his attention. And now that you have it? The words are stuck in your throat. 
You shrug, pushing your empty bowl away to lean your elbows on the table. When you look up at him again, he blinks. Waiting for a response. 
A rush of adrenaline makes the world around you buzz. 
“Why do you care?”
He clenches his jaw for a moment, then parts his lips to respond. 
The apartment door swings open. 
Both of you start at the intrusion. You jump to your feet to collect the dirty dishes while Joel turns to greet your mother. 
“It’s a fucking madhouse out there,” she grumbles, then pulls out the seat adjacent to him and starts telling him about her day. 
———
You step into the shower and hiss in reaction to the scalding hot water. 
The fact that it's warmed at all surprises you. Not an unwelcome surprise, even if it hurts a little. Most days the water comes out tepid at best, and you’d gladly accept a third-degree burn over a lukewarm shower. 
Besides, the sting feels right on your skin, as weird as that sounds. You relish the pain while washing yourself, thinking, ‘this is what I deserve for feeling this way.’ Hell fire, if the sidewalk preachers are right. If there is such a thing. If you’re not there already. 
Only once the water runs cold do you turn it off and go back to your room, leaving the door cracked open behind you. After putting on a big t-shirt and some underwear, you turn off the lights and climb into bed. 
For a while you stare at the water-stained ceiling and listen. You hear the roar of FEDRA’s armed vehicles patrolling the streets. Far away, gunshots ring out into the night. Some kid starts crying next door, then his mother lulls him back to sleep. 
Closing your eyes, you try to tune it all out and focus on the noises within this unit. Concentrate on the drip-drip-drip of the bathtub faucet. The ripping sound of your mom’s snores. 
Then, you hear it. 
A creak from the floorboards. Footsteps. 
Their bedroom door squeaking open. 
Everything goes silent long enough for you hold your breath and scream inside your head, please please please—
It starts again. One careful step, then another. 
His presence hovers there at the door for six restless seconds before he opens it and steps inside, closing it behind him. 
Your pounding heart squeezes your breath ragged. It comes out this shallow, shaky push and pull that broadcasts your consciousness. 
Still, you pretend. 
You keep your eyes pinned shut and listen to the advance of his footsteps to your bedside. 
Down by your feet, the mattress shifts under his weight. He doesn’t touch you for a while, only watches you, his gaze burning into your skin. 
Then, he murmurs, “I know you’re not sleepin’.” 
You blink your eyes open to look at him, in boxers and an undershirt, all hunched over at the foot of your bed. Always carrying that weight on his shoulders. The glow of the street lamp outside your bedroom window casts this perfect golden light on him that makes you kind of hate how good he looks. 
“What are you doing?” you ask in a whisper. 
Over the blanket, he rests his hand on your calf, then takes it back and shakes his head. 
You roll onto your side, swinging one leg over the blanket and tucking it between your thighs, a wordless plea for him to touch your hungry skin. Joel shifts further onto the bed, turning his body to stare down at you with a straight spine. His gaze drifts up your exposed skin, fingers twitching in his lap. 
This faltering self-discipline compels you. 
Joel is nothing if not self-disciplined. That much is true for all the forsaken, yourself included. 
Your working theory is that nobody wants after the world ends, they just need. Need to sleep, need to eat, need to fight. Anything to survive one more fucking day. It’s all any of you can ask for. 
So do you want him, or do you need him? 
And what about him? Joel fucking Miller, with his reinforced concrete walls and heavy heart. Was he ever capable of wanting? 
“Joel,” you reach out to touch him, beckoning him to meet you halfway. 
His eyes flick to your outstretched hand, then back to your face. He shakes his head, as if declining the offer, but you don’t retreat. You sit up and crawl across the bed to him. 
The column of his throat bobs, head rocking back as he watches you come to a stop. He almost lets you touch his cheek when you try again, but snatches your hand away before you can make contact. 
“Don’t,” he warns, the tone of his hushed voice deadly serious. 
He squeezes your fingers while you study his stonewalled expression, tilting your head at him, “Why did you ask me that earlier? If I’m still seeing Bert?”
“I was curious.” 
“Curious why?” 
His lips part, then close, gaze dropping to your mouth. 
Heat pulses through every inch of your body. You drop your voice to a breathy whisper. 
“Were you thinking about what you did to me?” 
Something flickers behind his eyes when they snap onto yours. It draws you in, urging you to scoot so close your knees butt-up against his jackknifed leg. 
“You fucking loved it, didn’t you?” you ask quietly, smirking a little when his stern face twitches, “You loved how it felt to make me surrender—” 
The dull throb of his tightening grip around your hand makes you gasp. A rumble slips from his chest, which could be read as a warning if you had an ounce of self-control left. If you didn’t need him to combust. 
You let your gaze drift from his burning gaze down the slope of his nose to his lips, “Do you think about it every time you see me, like I do with you? How fucking good it felt?” 
“It was wrong—” 
“Then why are you here?”
Your question comes out louder than you expected. It ricochets through the charged space between his body and yours, popping the bubble of awareness around you. 
All the little sounds you picked up on earlier seep back into the foreground. FEDRA patrolling. The whiz-pop of firecrackers going off maybe a block away. A faint murmur of conversation in the upstairs unit. 
He holds your stare, but doesn’t make a sound until a snore rips from your mom’s chest, signaling crisis averted. When he speaks, his words come out hushed and calm. 
“You need to be quiet. Understand?” 
The command liquifies your bones. 
You lick your lips and nod, “I understand.” 
“Good.” He studies you as if deep in thought, finally releasing your hand to pinch your chin and assert, “You know why I’m here. Stop pretendin’ you don’t.” 
It’s hard not to fall in line when he’s looking down at you like this, all hot-blooded and self-assured. Cocky, almost. But you try to push his buttons anyway. 
“I thought it was wrong.”  
“Don’t get cute with me. Yes or no?” 
Your pulse flutters. Tongue goes numb. All you can do is nod. 
He jostles your head a little, “Say it.” 
“Yes.” 
“Say yes please.” 
“Yes please.” 
He works his jaw back and forth, studying you, then tugs your shirt.
“Take this off.” 
While you pull the offending garment over your head and toss it aside, Joel moves further onto the mattress, leaning back against the wall. 
You follow him, swallowing the static buzzing in your throat as he ushers you onto his lap. The scrape of his rough hands on your waist may as well be a live wire crackling across your skin. He pulls you closer and closer until your belly presses into the worn cotton of his shirt. The heat between your legs settles on his stiff length. When he twitches against you, a heady electric current courses through your body and coaxes a whimper from your lips. 
It seems too intimate to look at him, so you cast your gaze downward. Your shaky hands lay flat against his chest, absorbing the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm. 
Being with him like this feels strange. Not strange how it sometimes is with a new partner, that clumsiness before you know how your bodies work together. 
It’s strange in a fucked up out-of-context sort of way. Of course, growing up around him never conditioned you to think of him like this. Joel fucking Miller, with his scarred-up knuckles and unending apathy. The only man who could make big brown eyes like that seem cold. 
All those years, you never considered him anything more than an obstacle. 
Even then, if there was some tiny shimmer of attraction lingering under your skin, a piece of you that wanted more from him, you never thought he could feel so solid and soft and alive. You never dreamed he could make you feel so fucking good.
“This stays between us,” he tells you, more of a command than a request. 
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” 
The tips of his fingers dig into your hips, and he purrs, “You’ve been good for me, haven’t you?”
You preen at the warm timbre of his voice, body arching into him as you breathe, “Yes.”
Under your touch, his muscles tense. He exhales hot against your cheek and guides your hips in a rocking motion, slow and steady, rubbing all those aching nerves hard against him. 
“You liked it, too. Didn’t you? How I fucked you last time?” 
A low-frequency hum throbs deep inside you, amplifying every sensation tenfold. You nod, rolling your hips faster, “I did, I liked it.”
“Yeah, you liked it? Or did you fucking love it?” he hisses, “Dirty little slut like you. Bet you loved getting fucked in the ass, didn’t you?”
“Oh my god, Joel—” 
“Tell me.”
“Yes yes yes I fucking loved it—” 
Too loud. 
He ceases all movement, locking you in place with a steel grip. All ten of his digits bury themselves in your skin. The exquisite pain makes you gasp. 
“Hush.”
You clamp down on your lips in an attempt to stifle yourself. Each heaving breath wiggles down to your core and back. 
“Look at me.” 
If you do, you’ll dissolve at the edges. You know it. You are sugar paper and he is a humid room and you are so incredibly fucked. 
Pinching your eyes shut harder, you shake your head and whisper, “I can’t.”
“Why not?” 
“I’ll come if I do.” 
The confession makes him throb underneath you. He husks, “Do it, look at me.” 
You do. 
Even in the shadows you can make out his features, his parted lips and hooded gaze. The desire etched into his face as he stares at you, looking mystified in a way you’ve never seen before. Heat percolates beneath your skin, sending your heartbeat racing. 
His hips arch into you just so, then he pulls you in and pushes you back, rubbing your body against his, “Do you wanna come? Come for me just like this?” 
“Please—please,” you whine, feeling pleasure branch out from your middle as he slides you back and forth, “Please I wanna come for you it’s been so long—” 
“Will you be quiet?” 
Swallowing a moan, you nod frantically. 
His eyes flicker around your face and he breathes, “Go ahead.”
You’re not sure if it’s the flames in his eyes or the fact that you haven’t had an orgasm in almost two months, but the second he gives you permission, the ecstasy you tried so hard to contain spills over the edges and floods your body. It pulses through you hot and hard and makes your mind go white. You have to clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle the guttural noises that try to escape. 
“That’s it,” he coos from far away, still grinding your twitching body against him, “There we go. That’s my good girl, hmm?” 
“Oh my god—” you whimper at the sharp aftershocks that shoot through you, “It feels so good, Joel, fuck—” 
“Do you wanna come again?” 
Nodding, you link your hands behind his neck and set yourself in motion, rubbing against him a little faster than his set rhythm. His eyelids flutter as he throws his head back, the muscles under his shirt going taught. Beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, he’s hard as a fucking rock. 
Releasing the tight grasp on your hips, he roams up your sensitive skin to your breasts and tests their weight before squeezing. It shoots through you, the pleasure and pain indistinguishable, just a throbbing rush of need. Your breathing comes in heaving gasps and you pinch your eyes shut again, tilting your head towards the ceiling as you once again find yourself struggling to keep quiet. 
“Eyes on me,” he reminds you. 
You snap them open and meet his. 
“Good girl.” 
And—god, the way he looks at you, his gaze hungry and wild. Fucking maddening. Simultaneously, you wish he would stop—the contact too intense, too intimate—and pray that it never fucking ends. 
Heat bubbles up inside you. You bury your fists in his hair and roll your hips faster, chasing the scorching need for more. 
He hisses and pushes back against your thrusts, murmuring, “That’s it, grind that pussy on me, make yourself feel good.” 
“Fuck—fuck yes, it feels so fucking good—” 
“I can feel how fucking wet you are, leakin’ all over me. You do love it, don’t you, baby?”
You start to tremble and nod, trying your hardest to whisper when you tell him, “Yes yes yes I do I fucking love it—I wanna come again, can I please come again, please please—” 
“Listen to you. So good, askin’ for permission.” He brings a hand to your face and brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Such a quick learner.” 
“Joel—” 
“Do it. Make yourself come again.”
Something untethers inside you. Heartbeat pounding behind your ears, you work your body against him in jerky movements, each one more delicious than the last. His eyes burn into yours, all heavy-lidded and lust-blown in the darkness, watching your face twist up with pleasure as the hot gooey feeling between your legs stretches wider and wider, then overtakes you completely. 
You give in to it with a shattered breath, burying your face against his shoulder to muffle your moans. He holds you down, making sure you smother your cries in the damp cotton of his t-shirt as wave after electric wave washes over you. 
When your spasms start to peter out, and your rolling hips come to a stop, he releases his stronghold to pet your hair. Your heaving chests meld together, breath syncing up into a steady ebb and flow as he smooths his palm up and down your spine. 
For a moment, it’s just this. Just the soothing motion of him rubbing your back, calming your boneless body. Soft and quiet with everything else stripped away. 
Emotion swells in your chest and tingles up your throat, behind your eyes. You try to hide it, the fact that you’re crying, but it becomes obvious when a sob escapes you. 
Joel shifts a little, then tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. He searches your face and frowns, furrowing his brow. 
“I’m sorry,” you wipe your tears and cast your eyes downward, “I—I don’t know why this is happening, I’m sorry. I’m stupid.” 
“No—hey, no,” he assures you, “It’s fine.” 
You shake your head. 
“Look at me,” he commands, and when you do, he cups your cheek and holds your gaze, “It-it’s normal to feel… emotional. Really, it’s ok.” 
The warmth and sincerity of this—his touch, his eyes, his words—makes your heart stutter. It curls up inside you and sedates your jumpy nerves. 
You sniffle and nod, “Ok.” 
His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he studies you, bringing his hands to your waist. The longer you stare at each other, the more all the subtle signs of his lust come back into focus. How his tongue peaks out to wet his lips when he looks at your mouth. The heavy thudding of his heart. His strained breath and throbbing cock. 
Your gaze drifts to his lips. A needy, aching desire simmers at the base of your spine. It seems wrong to kiss him. More sensual than sexual, rooted in something he will never have for you. But still, you wonder. 
You wonder how soft his plush lips would feel against yours. How he would taste. Whether or not he would use tongue, or teeth, or both. 
Your fingertips twitch hesitantly towards his mouth. He doesn’t pull away or admonish you, even though you give him ample time to protest. When you make contact, smoothing your touch over the pillow of his bottom lip, he murmurs against your fingers, “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m never gonna be, either, I wanna make that clear. That’s not what this is.”  
“I know you’re not my fucking boyfriend, Joel.” You scoff at the thought, “Boyfriend. I don’t want that. I don’t need a boyfriend. What I need…” you watch your touch drift from his mouth to his jawline, where you scrape your nails through his scruff, “What I need is someone to fuck the thoughts out of my head.” 
“Fuck the thoughts outta your head,” he repeats, almost a chuckle, “That’s what you need, huh?”
“That’s what you need, too. Isn’t it?” 
Something smolders behind his gaze as he searches your face. 
“You can use me, you know. Take whatever you need from me. Use me like a fuck toy, Joel, I fucking need it.” 
His whole body reacts to your request, muscles flexing taught as he clenches his jaw.
You bat your lashes at him and pull yourself close enough to feel his breath on yours when you ask, “Don’t you need a little fuck toy like me, daddy?” 
“You’re a sick girl, you know that?” 
“You like it.” 
Neither of you can deny the other’s accusation, resulting in a stand-off that tingles beneath your skin and makes your heart pound in your throat. 
Subconsciously, you rock your hips forward and suck in breath when his cock throbs against your clit. He pushes back, flooding your veins with fire, “Are you gonna keep quiet if I fuck you?” 
“Are you gonna shut me up if I can’t?” 
He lets out one single amused chuckle, then asks, “Are you really tryna test me right now?” 
Suppressing a smile, you shake your head. 
“That’s what I thought.” 
Something in the way he says it blooms heat in your chest. His tone teasing, almost playful. 
He gives your ass a light smack, then tugs at your underwear, “Take these off.” 
You roll off him onto the mattress and slide them down your legs while he stands to strip naked. Seeing his cock makes your body hum. It stands at attention, bobbing a little when Joel catches you staring. 
Sidling up to the bed, he beckons you closer, so you follow his silent guidance and crawl over to him, wrapping your hand around his thick length. You glance up at him, licking your lips as you await further instructions. 
“Get it nice ‘n’ wet for me.”
Nodding, you bring your mouth to the head of his cock, exploring first with your tongue, licking up the salty dribbles of lust. You taste a hint of yourself on him too, arousal that soaked through his boxers and marked him yours. Temporarily, at least. At least for tonight, or at least for right now. 
A pleased rumble erupts from his chest when you wrap your lips around him and start to slide up and down his shaft. He feels solid and warm and fills your mouth completely. The first time he hits the back of your throat, you gag and pull off him, working him with your hands as you catch your breath. 
“Do it again.” 
You take him in your mouth, rutting up and down a few times before sitting up taller to drive him down your throat. He buries his fists in your hair and thrusts his hips forward, “There we go, that’s it—fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.” 
His praise sparks at your core. You whine around his cock and bob against his thrusts. It doesn’t matter that you can’t breathe. You don’t need oxygen, you just need this. The sting of his grip prodding your movements, the raw stretch of him fucking your airway, the wet squelch that fills the room. 
When he yanks your head back and unclogs your throat, you gasp for breath and stroke him with both hands, churning his slick length. Fire roars in his eyes when you look up at him. 
He grabs your chin and husks, “Say thank you.” 
“Thank you.”
He smacks your cheek and grabs your chin again, “Say thank you for fucking my face.” 
“Thank you for fucking my face, I fucking love it—”
“Say please can I have some more.” 
“Please can I have some more, daddy?” 
Stifling a groan, he crams it back in your drooling mouth, down your throat, snapping his hips in sharp, quick thrusts that make you gurgle with pleasure around him. Far away, you hear him panting, “Take it take it take it—”
The chorus makes your body tingle. You think about your mom sleeping in the other room, how there’s just a wall between her and this. How she could wake up at any moment and follow the muffled, hedonistic noises. How she would find Joel balls deep in your mouth and you giving him something she never could: control. 
This time when he pulls you off his cock, he uses his white-knuckle grip on your hair to make you flip over and turn around, ass in the air towards him. 
The head of him nudges up against the tight ring of your asshole. You hear a wet splat, then feel the heat of his spit trickling down between your cheeks. Your body clenches with anticipation as he smears it around. 
“Remember, you gotta relax,” he murmurs, releasing your hair to smooth a palm against your spine. 
You inhale a deep breath and exhale the tension from your muscles, letting your heart melt into the mattress. 
“Good girl,” he arches forward, breaching your entrance. 
The sharp sensation splits you open. It pulls a wanton moan from your lips that rings through the silent apartment like a siren. 
Yanking you up by your hair, Joel secures your back to his humid chest and clasps a hand over your mouth. Stars invade your field of vision as he drives his cock deeper and deeper, only stopping when he can’t go any further. You sob against his palm, so he pulls it down harder, muffling the noise until you stop. 
Everything goes silent and still, but you can’t even bring yourself to worry that you woke her. Not when all you can hear is your thudding heart and his ragged breath, coarse with what you assume is rage or lust or both. Not with his lightning rod cock vibrating hot up your middle. 
It doesn’t matter that she could walk in to find her common-law husband fucking your ass, or that this discovery would burn all your lives to the ground. All you care about is more. More stimulation, more attention, more Joel—more more more—
You try to move your hips in an attempt to create friction, but his vice grip renders you immobile. So you stay in place and try not to make noise as the flames lick at your insides. You squirm and ache and claw at his arms while he muffles your whimpers. 
Then your mom snores in the other room. 
He pulls his hand from your mouth and you gasp for air. 
Thinking you can get ahead of the inevitable scolding, you plead, “I’m sorry—” 
He drags his cock out of your body, then plunges it back inside, all the while hissing, “If you’re gonna be my little fuck toy—” 
“Holy fuck—”
“—You have to be fucking quiet. Do you understand?” 
Nodding, you gasp, “I understand, I’ll do better, I promise—please just fuck me, please please—”
You strangle a moan in your throat when he slips a hand between your legs and draws tedious circles on your clit. 
“Try ‘n’ breathe through it,” he coaches, “I’ll go slow for you this time, ok? Just remember, shut the fuck up and take deep breaths.” 
You suck in air until your chest is full, then release it, restricting its flow through a narrow space between your lips. You do it again. Tension begins to melt from your bones. It has a clarifying effect, allowing you to relish in the heat of his touch. You take another deep breath, only hitting a snag when Joel starts to rock his hips. 
It feels fucking unreal. Rough and raw, the steady drag of his cock fills you with static electricity over and over. 
“Oh fuck—”
“Shhh…”
Your inhale stutters, but you regain control on the exhale. Everything disappears except him. His heated skin sticking to yours. How fucking full he makes you feel with each thrust. The thick swell of pleasure that accumulates every time he flicks his wrist. You surrender to all of it, to Joel, entrusting him with everything except your breath. 
“That’s it, baby, let go.” 
“It feels ssso gooood,” you whisper, head rolling back onto his shoulder, “Nothing’s ever felt this good, holy shit—”
His lips tickle your ear as he purrs, “Such a good little fuck toy, aren’t you, baby?”
You gasp a little when the velvet of his tongue rolls against your pulse. Nodding, you reach back behind his neck to scrape your fingernails through his curls. He does it again, this time sealing his lips to suck on the sensitive skin. Your heart pounds thick and hot through your body. The edges peel back at the corner of your mind. You push back against his thrusts, panting out subdued whimpers as the fire in your belly begins to spread. 
“Do you wanna come?”
“I do, I wanna come—oh my god I wanna come, please make me come, daddy—”
His hand covers your mouth and holds you down so he can fuck you harder, stretching you out wide and filling you deep. He works your clit faster. The bed frame thumps against the wall in a frantic rhythm that matches the wet slap of his thrusts. Tears prick your eyes and heat swells beneath your skin, pressure building more and more until you think you can’t fucking take it anymore—
His palm smothers your moans as you fall apart, breaking into a million pieces and coming back together again with a choked sob. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans as his hips snap forward, then stutter to a stop. 
The two of you go slack propping each other up, too loose-limbed and lethargic to peel yourselves away at first. He makes the first move to separate, though, uncovering your mouth to brush the damp hair from your forehead, “You ok?” 
“Yeah,” you tell him instinctively, then second-guess yourself and look up to meet his eyes, “I mean, I don’t know. I think so.” 
He studies you, nodding. 
Hesitation buzzes in your chest when you contemplate whether or not to return his question. It seems unlikely he’d cooperate even if you wanted to know the answer.  So instead, you give him his out. 
“Is this goodnight, then?” 
“Suppose it is.” 
A flicker of something passes between your bodies as you stare at each other. It feels so hot to the touch that you chicken out, glancing away as you whisper, “Will you do something for me before you go?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Tuck me in?” 
The noise that comes out of him is half-grunt, half-chuckle. Joel for, ‘You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.’ But he obliges, pulling his soft cock from your body at a mercifully slow speed before allowing you to make yourself comfortable. He sorts out your blanket and drapes it over your body, then starts fishing his clothes off the floor. 
Tugging his shirt over his head, he asks, “Need anything else, princess?” 
You’re sure it’s a dig, but choose to ignore it as you snuggle into the covers and hint, “Don’t make me wait so long next time.” 
He sits down at the edge of your mattress and threads his legs through the boxers, “I’ll make you wait as long as you need to. What else?”
“Mmm. Goodnight kiss?”
“Goodnight kiss,” he scoffs to himself, then looks back over his shoulder at you, “Fine, then I’m goin’ to bed.” 
He turns to face you more directly, folding a knee onto the bed as he leans in and tilts your head to the side, pressing a gentle kiss into your cheek. Even though you wish he had kissed your lips, you close your eyes and savor the affection while you can. 
After murmuring goodnight, Joel leaves. He crawls back into bed with your mother while you memorize the sound of his retreating footsteps.
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help-itrappedmyself · 7 months
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Summoning Game Show Part 5
Masterpost
I just spent an unnecessarily long time making A Quiz so I would have questions and answers ready to go, only to not put any of them in. And spend a ridiculously long time doing math because I had to redo it like three times. Numbers are not my strong suit. In any case I now have a fully functional Jeopardy game and the next part.
~~~~~
It’s a close race. They were equal on the mountain track and neither really got sidetracked by Skulker on such a straightforward route. They made it to Zone Two almost even, but Jason almost immediately falls behind as Skulker hits him with a paintball. Being shot at shocked him more than anything, but realizing it was paint, he stopped trying to avoid it and just kept going, letting his armor deal with most of it. Skulker got bored and quickly went after Johnny instead, who got irritated and started a shouting match with Skulker as he drove. The different terrains meant they had to keep slowing down and speeding up, and Skulker got bored with the paintballs and started throwing water balloons instead. This was more annoying for the drivers because the water made the sand and mud trickier to drive on. Both Johnny and Jason both got their bikes temporarily stuck in mud and had to drag them back out while Skulker cackled above them. 
Zone three allowed Jason to catch back up to Johnny. This was what he was used to and he was able to go faster with more confidence. Johnny and Jason separated after Skulker shot a net at them both. And they found each other again on a straightaway leading to the finish line. It was close at the end, but Jason managed to pull out ahead. 
They shook hands at the finish line, walking back into the main room together. They separated when Johnny left to go back to the stands, followed closely by Skulker. 
“Wonderful race, very intense, great driving all around.” Danny says, very entertained. “Well earned win, Jason. I’ll remind you this is what you have currently.”
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“What letter would you like to guess?”
“I’ll take I.”
“Another vowel, very good.” Danny waves his hand again. “There are two I’s!
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“The next challenge is trivia, which will be played by Red Robin as he is the only one who has yet to participate in a challenge.”
A new podium appears on stage as Danny’s podium rotates so the two are facing each other. Red Robin walks up to the new podium.
“ The theme is SPACE!” Danny is so excited he is practically bouncing. A jeopardy-looking game board appears on the screen. “ You have 6 categories, all space themed, they are:  Earth, Other Planets, Space Numbers, Stars, Other Space Entities, and Spacecrafts! There are 9,000 possible points, you need to get at least 7,500 in order to win! The game can stop as soon as we’ve reached that number.”
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Red, being Red, decides to do all the hardest questions first. He starts at the bottom left corner, gets the first question right. Tim thinks since he got the hardest one he could probably finish out the Earth category pretty easily, so he goes down the list and gets them all correct. 
With 1,500 points he decides to start the next category with the hardest question as well. This is his first wrong answer. He starts going up the list, and gets the 400 incorrect for this category as well. Danny is disappointed. The rest of the boys are infinitely relieved that Tim is the one doing the trivia part. They probably would have lost already. 
Tim does get the rest of the ‘Other Planets’ category correct and moves on with 2,100 points and 6,000 points left on the board. He decides to start ‘Space Numbers’ with the 100 point question and keeps going, acing the whole category. He now has 3,600 points. With 4,500 points left on the board he needs 3,900 more points. This means he can only lose 600 more points. He aces the ‘Stars” category, then moves on to ‘Other Space Entities’. He misses the last question, leaving him with 6,100 points and 1,500 left on the board. Tim can only afford to miss the 100 point question, so he decides to start at 500 and get it over with.
He continues until he reaches the 200 point question. If Tim answers this one he will win, and he does so correctly the screen changes to shoots of confetti.
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desceros · 1 month
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headcanon: donnie is very finicky about his appearance actually
he pays attention to his clothes. how they fall on him. how the patterns match. if they catch his eye pleasingly or if they clash and he needs to change them. he cares a lot about fashion, but not in a Pays Attention To What's Popular way; he cares in a I Have My Style And I Will Adhere To It Under The Penalty Of Death way. i think about the way he makes a logo for his tech when he's a kid. it's trademarked he says of his brand. he cares about how things look. how his name is attached to things. appearances matter.
(it's common in the animal kingdom too, he consoles himself, looking into the mirror and tugging at his new shirt before going to see you. birds. fish. it's just biology. so he's interested. it's fine. natural. not extra at all. he just wants to look good. put on a good show. convince your eyes to land on him.)
this translates over when he starts courting you hard. plucking at your outfits and complimenting your choices. giving you suggestions when he comes into your room and his eyes finally slide off where you're lounging and into your closet. he asks if he can take a look inside. opens it up, thumbs through, muttering to himself. he'll pull together things you never thought to put together, and huh. that looks. really really good actually. thanks, donnie. giving him a sparkling smile that makes him look away because it's too bright to look into directly.
it starts then. before you're dating, when you're just... something. a question mark. a potential. you see him while you're walking down the street. he's looking into the glass storefronts, but the items inside don't seem to make any cogent sense or slide into one particular category. shoes. technology. dresses. flower arrangements. the items all over the place, not anything you can use to try and guess what he may want to his birthday coming up, which is annoying since you kinda want to spoil him a little.
(it's not until years later, seeing it again, curled beneath a possessive arm at a crosswalk, that you ask what that's all about. only then that he tells you he is admiring how the two of you look next to each other: fashionable, complimentary, coordinated;
fitting together just. right.)
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cripplecharacters · 3 months
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Sorry if this has already been asked before but as a general statement do you feel like the trope of having mobility aids doubling up as weapons in a fantasy story is ok? I’m disabled myself so I have a lot of disabled characters in my story so there’s a wide variety of mobility aids. Since a lot of characters fight in the story because of the genre I was thinking of making mobility aids weapons (cane as a magic staff or like prosthetics with built in powers etc) but I’m not sure if it falls into the category of ‘character is disabled but it’s actually their superpower!!!’ because I want to avoid that trope at all costs. Hope this makes sense to you since communication isn’t a strong point of mine. Love your blog btw:)
Hi! I'm glad you enjoy the blog:-D
I really feel like it depends. It can be done well and respectfully, but in my experience it usually isn't.
If you're a mobility aid user writing about the aids that you're using, you can do whatever you want! For my deeper thoughts that are too long:
The main issue that I have with the "magic aids as weapons" is that often it feels like the author doesn't actually like the aid because it's "too boring" and thus wants to "improve" it by making a cane into a wizard staff that shoots fireballs or whatever. But I don't feel like that's a good way to go about it at all. Mobility aids are cool in itself! They allow use to be more mobile! Why do they need to be made into something else?
The something else part is also what bothers me a lot around magic aids, aids as weapons, all that. Like the old "replacing a wheelchair with an animal" thing. Why not have a wheelchair? Why not a walking cane instead of a staff, you know? It sometimes feels like the author tries to distance whatever they're writing about from disabled people and our actual experiences because they're "too boring to fit their fantasy story". Like it could be done effectively, but it usually really isn't.
To finally get to the combat part of the question, it again depends (...sorry). If the character with a cane has to fight using it, then I do find it weird, I guess. "Doing cool explosive stuff" shouldn't be a requirement for a disabled character to be included, especially because a lot of disabled people can't do the things that writers want them to do! Sometimes we are weak and unsteady and fragile. Fighting isn't for everyone, and I feel like that's where some of the annoying fantasy tropes appear.
"Hm, my blind character can't fight because they're blind.. oh they have a superpower that lets them 'see'! solved!"
"Hmm, I don't know how to include a wheelchair user… I'll give them a Magic Mecha Exoskeleton, now they can fight!"
"Hm, real life prosthetics seem inconvenient. I'll just make them Magical so they're just like meat limbs but with a gun!"
...and all these kinds of "solutions" that make one wonder if the author even wants to have an actually disabled character. It's not even that the disability is a superpower, it's more that it's non-existent. Sometimes the better solution is to have us in other roles and not make us do things that our disabilities prevent us from doing, which fighting can fall under.
If the above isn't what's going on, then I think it comes down to how the whole thing is even supposed to work. Are the in-universe rules for magic centered around the idea that the Body makes magic? In this case, it could be interesting to have a character who uses a mobility aid and considers it a part of their body to be able to use it in a magical way. Because a lot of people do consider their cane or wheelchair an extension of them, so it could be actually interesting to see it validated by the magic system. But if it's like, "anything could be used" and then every character with a mobility aid ends up using their aid for that, that's... somewhat weird. It does feel like reducing the character to their disability if abled character 1 has a spell book, abled character 2 has a magic necklace, but the disabled character has their disability aid as their magic weapon. To use the example that you did, if the character's prosthetic is the only way they can use magic, I do think that's weird, because like. why… it's both reductive and "disability as a superpower". But if they can use magic through, let's say, both of their legs, and one of them happens to be a prosthetic, then I think that's cool.
I also believe that it depends on what kind of weapon you are talking about at the end of the day - in real life, mobility aids are already treated as potential weapons. I'm under the impression that no one would assume that a walking cane could cast a spell, but people do very much think of a cane as a potential tool to fight with, of a prosthetic as a potential bomb, of a wheelchair as a potential way to smuggle something illegal. I have very much seen and heard of situations where a disabled person wasn't allowed to enter somewhere because their aid was seen as a threat - you don't want to make more people think that this is a reasonable conclusion to come to. If you want to go for it without doing any kind of retrospect on that, I would keep it as a fantasy thing.
I hope this helps! Apologies for the answer length.
mod Sasza
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macgyvertape · 6 months
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It's pretty fun to think about what perks SPECIAL build Lucy, Maximus, and The Ghoul have since it feels like the writers had that as character reference, even though it varies in implementation from game to game.
I'd say the obvious is The Ghoul has level 10 Charisma, Lucy somewhere in the middle, and Maximus though I love him has 1 or 2 since he isn't passing any speech skill checks. Where Maximus really shines is with Strength and Endurance since he takes a lot of hits that he can keep fighting through. Lucy seems to be spread with a few points in a lot of categories from her introductory pitch but a focus on Intelligence and Charisma, which reminded me of my first character where I did a few points in a lot of categories which then made combat very hard. Overall considering how all three characters finish the show alive with all limbs (re)attached they must have a decent Luck stat.
As for perks:
The Ghoul - it's pretty obvious he has Bloody Mess: "Increased damage with all weapons, and enemies can explode upon death." There's 2 big fight scenes where it's him vs multiple enemies and it with how many shots he gets off, it seems like he has Grim Reaper's Sprint: which returns action points when killing an enemy. Then we see him cut up Roger the ghoul for meat so he also has the Cannibal perk. I'm not sure whether the game would class him as Chem Resistant with how he shrugs off Lucy's dart, or if that would fall under addiction mechanics.
Lucy - an obvious guess is the FO3 perk Daddy's Girl: "Just like dear old Dad, you’ve devoted your time to intellectual pursuits. You gain an additional 5 points to both the Science and Medicine skills." Her rewiring of Mr Handy suggests Robotics Expert. I might be reading too much into the random encounters she has, but she has a number of them so something like Wild Wasteland makes sense.
Maximus - Toughness: which reduces damage threshold/damage taken is an obvious one. He notably doesn't have power armor repair skills, but in older games a perk like Power Armor Training was needed to use it. There's a few different melee attack perks in the games but Fo4 Big Leagues fits well
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saurongorthaur9 · 15 days
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As we get closer to the end of S2, I'm going more insane over who the surprise kiss is going to involve and whether they are going to go You Know Where. I keep playing the process of elimination game with any character who might share a scene with Galadriel at this point, and I just can't conceive who it could possibly be other than Sauron.
Elrond? It would come out of nowhere, they've said in interviews that Galadriel and Elrond's relationship is platonic, and there'd be the weird "kissing my future MIL" aspect of it.
Celebrimbor? Again, it would come out of nowhere, and Charles Edwards said in an interview that they aren't going with the "Celebrimbor had an unrequited crush on Galadriel" direction.
Gil-galad? Once again, out of nowhere, and it would just be weird and uncomfortable?
Arondir (since we know he shows up for the Battle of Eregion)? Unless Galadriel is his rebound for losing Bronwyn, it would make no sense and they've barely interacted in the series.
A minor elf character (Camnir, Mirdania, etc)? Again, it would come totally out of nowhere, and if it's significant enough for Morfydd to mention it, I really think it'll be with a main character. Plus, where would they go with that, since we know she eventually ends up with Celeborn one way or another?
Speaking of which...Celeborn? Still not 100% convinced that he might not make a very surprise appearance, but it just doesn't seem to fit with the "shocking" description nor the fact that some reviewers who have seen it threw an absolute fit over it apparently.
Adar? This is the one contender that I could see making *some* sense (not as much as Sauron though). There's definitely chemistry there, if not of any romantic sort (as of now), and we know they're going to have some big scenes together in the upcoming episodes. It would fall into the "shocking" category for sure, and I could see lorebro reviewers losing it over it for the same reasons as they would over Sauron. However, right now, I don't see it fitting into the story anywhere, plot-wise or thematically. But right now, it would make more sense than any of the prior possibilities.
Am I crazy that this just leaves Sauron? The character who they have spent two seasons establishing a connection with her and emphasizing that they are still very hung up over each other? The character who, whether you ship them or not, she has the deepest and best chemistry with? The character with whom a kiss would fit thematically (touch the darkness, etc)? Plus, I can think of multiple likely scenarios that it could occur during (a vision, as part of a Galadriel corruption arc if they go there, etc). And it would definitely be shocking and send lorebros into absolute conniption fits.
Like, I know I'm biased because I want it to be them, but truly is there anyone else it would make any sort of sense with? Tell me I'm not crazy (or tell me I am and explain what you're guessing/seeing that I'm not)?
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absolutebl · 2 months
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This Week in BL - Everything Went a Bit Weird Allasudden
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
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BL OLYMPICS! Week 2
I'll be passing out metals in various sporting events, as part of the weekly updates (through mid August) just for funzies.
Aug 2024 Week 1
Ongoing Series - Thai
The Rebound (Weds Gaga) eps 11-12fin - THE STAIRS ARE BACK and now they’re evil! Frank is truly great. He's out acting everyone else, but I'm just happy to see him pine. OK yes, the ending wasn’t awesome but I still really enjoyed this show. 
In conclusion: (deep breath)
This was a sports romance Thai BL pulp with everything I could have asked for given this sub genre. More, actually, since MeenPing are both great basketball players and the team component really did form part of the connective tissue of the show (vital in a sports romance). Meen has his shirt off within the first two minutes which is all I needed but he's still pretty great as the sullen secret keeper against Ping's cheerful survivor - childhood sweethearts torn asunder and now reunited. Then Frank sweeps in to give everyone a bad case of second lead syndrome. I always try to judge BL for what it is AS BL, and what it’s trying to do within its own territory and purview. This did exactly what it claimed on the tin: gay boys play b-ball and fall in love. That was all I wanted from it. Sure there was random kidnapping and a light bought of mass murder, but what’s a BL in 2024 without a touch of the mafia? You do you little pulp, I’m disposed to be pleased.
Thank you, Rebound, for being exactly what I wanted. Is this gonna be anybody else’s favorite BL of 2024? Probably not. But there is a real good chance it’ll be mine. Is it perfect? No. But for me, it got as close as a pulp can get, so I’m giving it 9/10.
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My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 9 of 12 - Them being boyfriends is so damn adorable. Like PondPhuwin I think I could watch G4 just be boyfriends for 16 eps and not fuss about anything in life. They're my emotional support pair brand. Back to the show:
My goodness Atom is such a frenetic high strung babygirl. He is a near constant emotional pingpong.
Gold in Table Tennis
K is a teenage saint. The lights thing, and the hands to head (reminiscent of certain previous characters from this pair), all made me coo and laugh. 
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However, this ep was mostly about the hets. It’s always funny to me when the gays have their shit figured out in a show but the hets are in chaos.
Also they're touted as "a teacher and a baker" but they're playing the gay dads of this narrative and I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. More gay dads in BL!
This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 5 of 8 - I’m just gonna say it, because no one else is, this pair kisses like they’re in a Taiwanese BL. There’s no other way to put it except there’s a whole body genuine interest and enthusiasm to the way they do physicality that’s comparatively rare in Thai BL. This kind of on-screen sexual maturity is my favorite, especially in grown-up characters like these. The side couple = awesomesause. JJ is a very appealing character. He hates Methas, he likes him, he loathes him, and also... he definitely wants to see him naked. 
All praise aside? I have questions about why half the hair in this show is so absolutely ghastly. Like bad enough for Japan. Enough of that now, Thailand. Tut tut. Cut cut. Style style. Please & thank you?
Then again who cares when we get...
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They already won silver last week, but I guess they're going for
Gold in Weightlifting
Century of Love (Weds Gaga) eps 7-8 of 10 - Well THAT is an interesting take on a Faen Fetale. As expected, a somewhat doomy ep 7. I did enjoy the doctor punching San tho.
Bronze in Boxing
Meanwhile, that camel jacket is a sin against all things, especially Daou. But I eventually got a crying kiss. I love a crying kiss best in the world. Next week looks good! But I miss my nine tailed fox nod. Will we get back to that or was it just a brief weird thing?
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The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 5 of 12 - It’s kinda great actually. The romance is the only bit that isn’t really hitting for me. Gun’s smile at the "oppa" is so adorable. His little dimples.
Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - I really do not like the pet name in this one. Khun Dad is too weird for me. But I do think their relationship is ridiculously cheesy and endearing in a terrible way. These two are the equivalent of that couple that always speaks in baby talk. It’s a good thing they’re pretty because they’re not so bright. Wait! No Christmas music in my BL! That's far too weird. 
Bronze in Diving
I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 12 - I’m liking this a lot better now. It’s still a little slow for me but since the bullying has stopped relatively quickly I’m not as upset as I was. Also, look at those eyes, our P'Seme is IN LURV. That said, I’m not wild about the sudden suicide plot line. That feels... weird.
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Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) - TutorYim are back and so far this is better than Middleman's Love - but that's not saying much. For a second there I thought they were going to open on the REAL blindfold scene from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. But then I remembered that that’s more Mame than anyone else. On a completely different note, I do like this pair. And I’m willing to give them ever more chances. That said this is very, I don’t know, weird? I’m not sure what is happening, and I’m confident that’s not my fault. I hope it makes sense eventually.
Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - Peak's dad is so completely frustrating and kind of psychotic. It’s annoying to watch. So I spent most of this episode upset. I'm glad he came around in the end but it was a lot, mostly unforgivable, from this side of the screen.
Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 8 of 10 - It's committing the greatest sin of all (in the realm of entertainment). It's mind numbingly dull. I'd sooner be offended than bored. Trash watch
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I don’t remember the camping trip from the manga, but I really enjoyed it in this series.
Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - The bit with the kid was cute but I’m still finding this rather slow and the central relationship unappealing. I think the balance of power has to shift for me to engage, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.
It's airing but...
Bad Guy (Korea YT) - yeah, erm, no thank you.
Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - OMG a uni student who looks too young and a... COP. GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. Please SOMEONE pick this one up?
4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me how it goes.
Meet You at the Blossom (China) - it's your funeral (or, more likely, one of the main characters'). You can argue but... statistics. You know my feelings on this matter. MY BLOG, remember?
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In case you missed it
The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!!
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
Coming Up This Month!
8/6 Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) 8 eps - office romance around the makeup counter featuring a younger seme and sexual blackmail. I'm intrigued. DFTUJ (don't fuck this up, Japan).
8/8 Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) 12 eps - I am so DAMN excited to see Big finally lead a BL. I can't even with this, one of my most anticipated of this year. He's a great kisser ya'll, he's kissed a lot of boys as second lead. I can't WAIT.
8/12 First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) 12 eps - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan stars Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn tean. I can't wait. With thier powers combined!
8/13 Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues YT) - supposedly Jinlo with air this on their YT channel. Stars August (Love Sick) so I'm excited despite Jinlo's poor reputation. From the trailer it looks like it's following the original pretty closely just Thai style.
8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something.
8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.
Addicted Heroin (Thailand adaptation) is also supposed to release this month. GIVE IT TOO MEEEEEE. I don't care about anything else but August back on my screen. It's been almost a decade since he did BL.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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This is the kind of jealousy I like to see. Boys getting pissed about the stupid stuff.
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Also, more counter making out. I'm not complaining, but babies the bed is way more comfortable.
All from Long Beans.
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.
Sports in Play (the jokes write themselves)
Boxing
Breaking
(That's Not) Cricket
Diving (yes, for that)
Fencing (yes, with those)
Handball (exactly what it says, no, read the word.. again)
Rhythmic Gymnastics (obvs)
Squash (snicker)
Surfing
Swimming
Trampoline
Table Tennis
Weightlifting
Wrestling
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autistichalsin · 1 month
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Two questions because I like hearing your thoughts:
What do you think Halsin's biggest flaw is?
And
Is there anything in his writing that you just don't vibe with / would like to see changed?
So, I am going to put two here for his flaws, just because what I perceive to be Halsin's biggest flaw is something a lot of people don't like being stated as such, because it's an extension of something that can actually be a good thing.
Halsin's biggest overall flaw: he is self-sacrificing to his own detriment, which also results in him brushing off his own pain/trauma. As a result of this, he also has a habit of developing hero-worship for those care for him the way he cares for others, I.E. the player.
Halsin's biggest flaw that can't be seen as an extension of a good trait: He can't control his basal instincts/urges very well. Not only can he not control his bear (the transformation into it and his actions in that shape) very well, but he also has lines in combat that rival the Dark Urge's in bloodlust; "let our enemies' corpses nourish the ground!" "May the carrion birds grow fat on you!"
Things I would change about his writing:
So... Most of the things I would change, I would not because I have a problem with them, but because I'm tired of others complaining about them (I.E. make his flirting banter with SH in act 3 only trigger if you're polymanced, make the Drow orgy start only at your invitation instead of his suggestion, etc). The highest on this list for me is the Minthara ultimatum (which still hasn't been implemented). I would like to see them make Halsin's case stronger; point out the Absolute still hunts him, make it clear how much Minthara triggers his trauma, let him talk more about things that happened to him in the goblin camp because of her- with her continued lack of remorse (she never even as much as says she sympathizes with what happened to the Grove) helping make his case. Also, make it more clear that what happened to the Tieflings was the result of this (because this scene was written to only trigger if the Rite of Thorns happened); show how haunted by their deaths Halsin is. People wrongly think Halsin had no stakes in this argument, when the truth is that they just didn't remind the audience what they were.
For things I actually would want changed... well, I'll put that in two categories, the things that could be changed while keeping the game mostly the same, and then my "pie in the sky" things.
Realistic changes:
-Halsin's post-Drow dialogue is tweaked just a bit more to fix a line from Tav that comes off as condescending, and to clarify some things (did Halsin's captors' house fall out of favor, or were they attacked by a lower house that wanted to unseat them? Halsin says both, but these are two different things in Drow culture). Maybe the house and the house that wiped them out get named, as well.
-While Halsin's act 3 arc was good considering how little time there was, I feel that there needed to be more highlighting his transition from nature-focused to people-focused. We see his anguish at the failures of the city, and the early stages of him dreaming for better, but I wish we could have had more of a bridge to him deciding his commune is the answer. I'd like to see a scene with Halsin adopting Yenna/inviting her to the commune once he starts it, a scene with Halsin's decision to found his commune and inviting the first group of refugees, that sort of thing.
-Make a quick tweak to That infamous party banter that makes it clear chimeras pass the Harkness Test in this setting so that people stop using it as justification to claim Halsin fucked the boar at the Grove (yes this is a thing). Or cut it entirely, I guess.
-Go back to the planned concept where Halsin's scar was in fact from a battle. It being from a shebear doesn't inherently bother me, but I liked the idea of it being a reminder of how badass Halsin is.
-I wish we had more lines reminding us what an amazing healer Halsin is past act 1.
-Fix a few of Halsin's lines so that he sounds as concerned about the Shadow Druids' influence as he should. He brushes them off a bit too easily, especially in the line patch 6 added where you could show him the note sent to Kagha.
-For the love of God, let Halsin get pissed off if you as a Drow Tav/Durge threaten to sell him back into slavery. Make him break up with you on the spot, maybe even leave the party- and if not, lose a huge chunk of approval at least. Players who make Astarion bite Araj rightfully get chewed out- Halsin deserves the same. It doesn't have to be rage, either; it could be hurt, or fear, or some combination of the above. But please, a line that evil deserves something more. They would never pull that on any other character.
Pie in the sky things that would probably never happen but I wish they would:
-After Halsin's Drow confession, we get a chance to suggest to him he might want a turn as a consensual submissive, complete with a sex scene of the player dominating Halsin.
-A scene with Astarion and Halsin bonding over their shared trauma.
-Reintroduce parts of the original concept for the Shadow Curse plot. I don't have to have the Halsin accidentally killing Isobel bit, but I liked the plot with the Promise dagger and him using you as a beacon to find you once he goes in the portal. It was so romance-coded; I'd argue it was even more romantic than Halsin's actual romance plot!
-Let us watch Halsin win over the orphans going to his commune. For pure self-indulgence reasons, make at least one of them a baby.
-A resist scene for Durges. I don't care if it would always be platonic, and yes, go ahead and give Minthara one too. Just please?
-MOST OF ALL, Origin Halsin.
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I don't know if this was addressed already but how many fae types have we seen or heard of so far?
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Off the top of my head, the two main classifications of fae seem to be nocturnal fae and diurnal fae, and there are several other kinds of fae that fall under each. Here is what I can recall:
All fae have pointed ears.
Depending on the subspecies of fae, they may have additional traits or powers.
Some fae can make their own magic, as well as absorb magic from nature to use.
Generally, fae govern certain natural elements such as fire or water.
Fae primarily rely on magic for everyday things.
🌙 Nocturnal fae
Nocturnal fae, at least in Briarland, use the phrase “Night’s blessings” as a term for good luck or wishing others well.
Nocturnal fae have many yet-to-be-named subclassifications; for example, both Lilia and Sebek's mother and grandfather are considered nocturnal fae but Lilia resembles a bat/ and Sebek's family resembles crocodiles.
The Zigvolts’ specific subspecies have not yet been formally named to us. Their subspecies is known for having scales and a strong bite.
Lilia says that "his kind" of fae can live up to 1000 years. It is said in book 7 that he is a bat fae, which may explain his weakness to the sunlight.
The language of the nocturnal fae sounds like animalistic snarls, grunts, and growls to the human ear.
Dragon fae (Dragon fae are also most likely a subspecies of nocturnal fae, which are said to be at the “top” of the nocturnal fae hierarchy. Malleus, as well as the Draconia line, are dragon fae; they are descended from actual dragons. Dragona fae are considered babies at 200 years old, teenagers at 500 years old, and adults at 1000 years old.)
Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek demonstrate enhanced senses. Lilia and Malleus also have enhanced physical abilities (strength, speed, etc.)
It is implied that fae in the Briar Valley are nocturnal fae. Additionally, silver hair is more common for nocturnal fae. Blonde hair is not common.
☀️ Diurnal fae
They do not get along with nocturnal fae.
The Fairy Queen from Fairy Gala is considered a diurnal fae.
Pixies are a smaller type of fae that fall under the "diurnal" category; they speak in a language which sounds like bell-like tinkling.
Faeland is where small fairies gather.
Pixies use fairy dust to help them fly. They keep themselves coated in the stuff at all times and perceive others covered in fairy dust as fellow fae.
Pixies hold the Fairy Gala in a selected venue. The event ushers in the spring by showing off trendy fashion. There is a different theme every year. If the small fae’s wrath is incurred, spring will never come.
Pixies are usually associated with the various elements of nature so there are fire pixies, water pixies, and flora pixies.
We also see crafting pixies (those are the ones with blonde hair and leafy clothes), which fix items and can make a special bell which translates pixie speech.) The leader of the craft fairies is named Macy.
Silver and his family were blessed by three guardian fairies; it is implied they have golden hair due to a blessing from diurnal fae.
Young Silver mentions that oak tree fairies told him about how acorn charms bless others with a long, healthy life.
An honorable mention goes to dwarves, which were suggested to be a kind of fae. In 5-55 of the main story, Yuu thinks the Seven Dwarves are a type of fae because of their pointed ears:
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However, even if you select the bottom option it’s not confirmed that the dwarves are a type of fae until a few chapters later (5-59) by Jamil.
It’s not stated whether dwarves are diurnal, nocturnal, or neither. Based on just aesthetic alone, I’d guess diurnal.
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sophies-junkyard · 1 year
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NOBODY ASKED but… Obviously Simon’s arc in adventure time solidified the series as one of greatest of all time (and I’m so hyped for this ice king sadness renaissance) but now I’m thinking of OTHER Adventure Time moments that rewired my brain as a kid. In no particular order:
1. “Once the strong guys got it how they liked it they said ‘this is fair now. This is the law.’ Once they were winning they changed the rules”. They really had the cartoon dog say that on tv in 2014.
2. “People get built different. We don’t have to understand it, we just gotta respect it”
3. The entirety of All The Little People. That shit was absolutely nuts for a kids show but also like…. I can’t articulate the lesson I just know there was one and it haunted me. The danger of the human ego. Hubris. Irreverence. Don’t play god bro.
4. Lady and Peebles. When PB ripped Ricardio’s leg off and bashed his skull in with it. And it was so hardcore they edited it out of the episode. Bro. I remember watching that after school one day and how my jaw just DROPPED at a PRINCESS being so brutal. They let her be so fucking angry and that was a game changer.
5. [Finn, about a horrific memory] “that one’s going in the vault. Aaaaaaaaaandd. It’s gone.” I quote that CONSTANTLY. It’s a great way to bring levity to a bad situation, but also forces me to go “hey wait a sec that’s not gonna work forever”. Things don’t stay in the vault.
6. Puhoy. He lived an entire life in that pillow world. He had kids. And then it’s just gone like a dream.
7. The deer. It was probably my first real introduction to horror. The hand wiggle. You all know exactly what I’m referencing. Were the candy people stuck in that well for 6 months???
8. What Was Missing!! Obviously now because it foreshadowed (and confirmed past) Bubbline, but back then just because it was so good??? IMO, this is the episode that defined WHO our main cast was, and how their relationships needed to grow for them to be content. It set up the next 6 years of the show! Plus it gave us 2 absolute BANGERS. Ugh i rewatched that recording so many times it wasn’t even funny.
9. Ghost Princess. Really just for the line where he sounds like he’s gonna shit his pants remembering his death and then in a clear narrator voice he’s like “I was a broken man.”
10. The pajama war episode. Now I’m doing this from memory so I could be wrong, but I think this really marks the start of Finn growing up. “I’ve really enjoyed just… hanging out with you.” The ability to start over with someone you’ve got complicated history with. The kindness. The growth from both of them!! It’s a direct parallel of episode 1 but their tones couldn’t be more different and I love it.
11. The slow and horrifying realization that The Mushroom War was nuclear Armageddon. Mushroom clouds. That went so far over my head as a kid even though they reference it constantly. It finally clicked during “I remember you”. Which I am NOT gonna go into because holy fuck that’s like 18 posts on its own.
12. Goliad! A child mirroring EVERYTHING they see, for better or worse. Seeing Jake in a bad moment screaming at the kids and goliad absorbing that behavior. Seeing she can use fear to control people. Also PB was Fucking Crazy! Her line “I’m not gonna live forever… I would if I could” is even more unhinged when we learn (like years later) that she’s already 900 years old. But she does physically age so I guess there’s that. The Suitor also falls into this category of episodes.
Ok getting into some of the more talked about moments
1. OK I LIED I have to talk about I remember you. I was 11 years old. I turned on the new adventure time episode like usual. 10 minutes later I was grappling with a grief I had never imagined before. Absolutely BAWLING not just for Simon and Marceline (the PLOT), but for what it showed me. The reality that every kid tries not to think about: your loved ones will leave you someday, even if they don’t want to. It’s an episode that becomes more powerful with every year I get older. To get a bit personal, dementia has completely taken my grandparents from me. I’ve seen sides of my grandfather that should never have existed, and I must constantly forgive him for what he does… now that he doesn’t remember me. And someday it’ll be my parents. That’s just the way of the world, ya know? Anyways, I remember my mom got home right as the credits were rolling and we had a long talk about keeping people alive with memory, mortality, and how the future was far away and we should decide on dinner lmao.
2. The Hall of Egress. I was almost 15. Life was changing. I was changing, and it was strange and frightening. That feeling where you know you’re losing your childhood but you just want to cling to it. Follow the same old familiar path, stick with what’s comfortable. But life doesn’t work that way. It took me years to really understand this episode and it’s symbolism. Honestly I still don’t think I could fully explain it. It’s like. How do I put this. I was so glad to be in the target age group in that moment. I was so glad that something I was growing up with was assuring me “you’re changing, but we’re changing too”. And isn’t that the theme of adventure time? Everything stays, but it still changes.
3. The absolute horror of Ferns existence. He’s Finn, but he’s wrong and warped. All those memories of the people he loves and they can’t stand to be in the same room as him.
4. Susan Strong. The introduction of a RUNNING PLOT. The show up to that point had really been so goofy and so monster of the week. I think the only really plot heavy episode before this one was It Came From the Nightosphere? And then suddenly they call into question the fact that Finn really is the ONLY HUMAN in all of OOO. And then… is he? It was SUCH a departure from the usual tone. Ending that episode with him reaching below her hat and gasping in shock, but never telling the audience what he found. And then she’s just gone. Which leads us to Islands!
5. Min and Marty. Second saddest episode in the entirety of adventure time, made worse because you know exactly how this family is gonna end up. There’s SO MUCH to dissect about Martins behavior in the series. A reformed con artist receives a traumatic brain injury while attempting to save his son. They’re both lost at sea, and he never looks for him. Was it the emotional trauma? Was it the physical damage? Meanwhile a mother loses her husband and her child in a single night and never EVER learns why. Nobody but Martin knows what happened that night. Also Finns fear of the ocean from season 1 is finally explained. 7 years of ignoring Finns origins and then they throw you THIS??? Watching it live was unreal.
Anyways I’m sure I’ll think of more. I might add on to this later for my own sake lmao, but I’d love to hear other peoples formative moments, quotes, episodes, etc. I really just needed to dump this information out of my brain so I can get on with my week.
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