#as always I welcome other opinions!

[charlessmiths-wife]

season four: fuseboxes biggest wasted opportunity.

(this has been sitting in my drafts for a few months now, almost a year 😭 may be slightly irrelevant to post not given how all talk of season four appears to have died out and looking back I’m not really saying anything that no one’s said before - but still, I’ll post it for the sake of it! :))

before starting, I'm going to admit, seasons one, two, and four are the only seasons I've ever fully played. I've never completed a playthrough of season three or five, they could both be brilliant idk (though I'm guessing not, judging by what others have said).

on my recent playthrough of litg s4 (yet another Angie route, some things never change) I was suddenly struck with the realisation that season four could've been gold for fusebox... and yet, it isn't.

i think it's important to recognise season four has its successes.

-> in terms of diversity, season four is arguably by far the best. it delivers a diverse range of characters from all ethnic backgrounds. it has gender diversity (limited, all be it, and there's still far for fusebox to go in this area - but it was a start). it delivers two good female li options (at least, imo) with a slow burn female li and one you can couple up with immediately (again, fusebox still is far to go in terms of properly catering to its wlw/lgbtq players... but... it was a start). finally, unlike seasons one and two, it doesn't always push this "girls are more drama" narrative which can sometimes be seen, notably in season two. the seasons depiction of female characters still isn't perfect, don't get me wrong, but in the case of season four I'd chalk this up to the fact it had ass writing, as opposed to season two, where I genuinely think some of the female characters suffered from misogynistic writing.

-> the characters are great. at least, in concept. I personally love Angie, Youcef, and Bruno - yet I can recognise the concepts of other characters are gold. like Will? an islander with commitment issues who slowly learns to open themselves up to love? could've been gold. Angie? a woman who slowly falls in love with her best friend? discovering not only her sexuality but also herself in the process? THE OPPORTUNITIES WERE FUCKING ENDLESS. Tom? Youcef? Thabi? Lexi? EVERY. SINGLE. CHARACTER. HAD. A. PERFECT. CONCEPT.

-> the designs were good. this is a personal opinion, but I think the designs of season four characters were much more in the league of season one and two than season three and five. again, this is a subjective opinion - but its one I do believe and see as a strength. (I mean... have we seen Angie? Thabi? Najuma? Will? I'd have been all OVER some of the mfs in that season).

in short, a huge strength of season four is that it, in theory, had a diverse and interesting cast of characters and routes - all of whom came from different backgrounds and circumstances.

in theory.... season four was gold.

except, in practicality, it wasn't.

now, I could talk for days about the weaknesses of season four - but at the end of the day I think it all comes back to what dozens of people have already said about me.

the writing was - in the most simplest of terms - absoloute balls.

there are dozens of examples of this.

take the dylan drama. what was the writing of that? Dylan was written to be a complete untrustworthy asswhole, how could we have ever believed anything that was coming out of his mouth when the man was characterised to be a liar from practically the first moment he opened his mouth?

now... had Dylan been characterised as some kind of likeable charmer... the drama potential would have been ENDLESS. it would have been far easier to see why MC/ their LI might believe Dylan.. and the angst that could have been produced from that!! endless!!

in my personal opinion, the Dylan drama is just generally dumb and could have easily been sorted out with one (1) three line conversation between MC and their li of "hey, did you cheat on me or is Dylan talking shite?" "yea/no" "aight bet" - but still, even tho it is dumb, it could have been made less dumb!!

and there's tonnes of drama which could have been great in theory but was awful in practice. like the lexi/kobi drama. or the juliet/kobi drama. or the valentina coming in and wanting our partner drama.

SO MANY MISSED OPPORTUNITIES!!!

one example of a HUGE missed opportunity in my mind is the Angie situation.

don't get me wrong, I fucking love Angies route. I only ever seem capable of playing it on replays, and I think Angie is one of my fave litg characters... well, ever! BUT HER ROUTE COULD HAVE HAD SO MUCH MORE ANGST. I STAND BY THAT.

throughout the entirety of season four, Angie always seems uncomfortable with romantic feelings. she says it herself she has trouble finding a connection, and she's incredibly cynical.

and then, she finds out she does have a connection - with none other than her best friend! who's a girl!

LIKE..? HELLO FUSEBOX! THE POTENTIAL FOR THE MOST ANGSTY LESBIAN STORY EVER FUCKING TOLD WAS RIGHT. THERE.

it's always bothered me how Angie, for the most part, seems chill with the fact she's just had a major life realisation about herself.

because, trust me, as someone who's been Angie before, it's not easy!

you spend your entire life thinking your one thing, then you find out your the exact opposite, and (in Angie's case) you've been lying to yourself for the better part of 30 years.

THE FUCKING ANGST WAS THERE.

give me angie distancing herself from MC because she's so in denial of her feelings and she thinks ignoring them will make them go away.

give me angie slowly coming to terms with the fact that, she can't ignore them. she can't make them go away. she's a lesbian, she always has been - and she can't deny that part of her anymore.

give me angie tearfully coming to the MC - choking up an apology/explanation and a confession of feelings all at once.

and just... give me more angst. the angst that should have came with someone discovering something huge about them after 29 years.

but looking beyond Angie. I think me biggest wish in terms of better writing is not only better writing for the drama, but better writing for the routes.

bruno, james, and najuma share largely the same route. most of the li's have the same/similar dialogue - and pretty much all of them have the same reaction to the dylan scenario.

these people are individuals - they have different reactions. I want to see that. the players deserve to see that.

we get it in season one. we get it in season two. we deserved it in season four.

TLDR; I think it's a mistake to assume season four was doomed from the start- it wasn't, and by saying so it almost feels as if we're letting fusebox off the hook, so to speak, for it being bad.

season four had the same concept of drama mingled with a unique cast that seasons one and two had, yet it didn't have the same quality simply because fusebox couldn't be bothered anymore. they didn't want to put in the writing and produce a genuinely good season.

season four was fusebox's biggest wasted opportunity - dare I say it could have been in the same league as seasons one and two, had Fusebox actually been bothered to do their job.

[snownorites]

Some disjointed thoughts on Sua and her sister that I had yesterday cause I've seen some people on twt being really adamant that Sua was in the "loved before anakt" category and I don't think that's what the point of Heavenly Garden is personally

For one, I don’t think she's actually looking out for Sua here. (using WhataFruit's translation)

I think her intention was to make Sua feel bad about herself. The word choice is extremely deliberate: "you're so unkempt" "that is unseemly" "you're already dumb enough as it is". That last one is obvious but those first two I think are super important to understanding the kind of competitive environment "being" a doll must have fostered. She's trying to put Sua "in her place" here and make her feel like she doesn't actually deserve any of the favouritism Nigeh gives her because she's "stupid" and can't even play her part properly.

And Sua has every reason to believe what her sister tells her. Outside of her cruelty she's so nice, so gentle, she even plays with her and tickles her. Ofc Sua would assume that she has the best intentions and to me that's the point of why her sister acts that way. It's not about affection or love really, it's something closer to bullying. This way every insult, every instance of belittling however small stays with her and hurts her. Her pity of Sua may be "genuine" but it seems to be more mocking? Saying that she loved Sua to me feels a bit like buying into the performance.

The framing of the comic to me is also very interesting because the contrast between Mizi and Sua's sister is telling us that we need to consider their affects on Sua in relation with each other. Sua did not feel loved before she met Mizi.

Her saying this is supposed to show that her sister was all she ever knew in terms of human connection. "Back then" as in before meeting Mizi.

Sua thinks that her sister was actually the pitiful one all along but something really interesting is that it's not because she finally found self worth or because she knows that her sister was wrong about her being unkempt or "stupid", it goes right back to love. Her sister is pitiful because she didn't know love.

That heavenly garden, Mizi, loving and being loved. If Sua felt love before anakt I don't really see why it'd be framed like this.

And the thing is that love is a super big theme in Alien Stage. You could very well argue that this is just how her sister shows love and since we don't have her pov the way that we do Io's or Ivan's there's absolutely no way to refute that the same way there's no way to prove that. But to me including Sua in the same category as Mizi and now Till feels really disingenuous. Mizi and Till felt loved before anakt and carried forward that love in all their actions. Sua did not and her actions reflect that.

I think that Sua's feelings of self hatred are a pretty important thing to also consider when analysing anything to do with her (and I'll probably have to do a seperate post about that because this is already so fucking long lmao) People don't pay enough attention to this and how a lot of it comes from the bullying she experienced

Before Mizi, Sua was objectified by everyone around her, humans and segyein alike. And maybe her sister was different and we'll see that in another comic but to me heavenly garden's intention is to reinforce that this bullying wasn't just the very overt kind that's shown above. Like with the new Till comic, all the material we get builds onto each other, Heavenly Garden gives context to just how sinister the bullying was.

And I don't say all this to say that people are wrong about her sister potentially loving her, maybe she did, but Sua did not feel loved or experience that love. It's weird that I'm seeing more justification and rationalisation of her sister's behaviour than people actually taking Sua's narrative into consideration and trying to understand how her sister fits into it.

[bookwyrminspiration]

real quick because the fandom's experiencing some growing pains--reminder to be nice to new fans! yes they'll have different dynamics, energies, and ways of doing things, but that's not a bad thing

we are all here to enjoy ourselves, so let them enjoy themselves. we were all new at one point. if its harmless, who cares! block if its that much of a problem/nuisance

we do not need a fandom generational divide, please and thanks <3

(and to new fans: hi! sometimes we have genuine points about etiquette like spam and tagging conventions to make the space better for everyone, but otherwise! just have fun!)

[2024skin]

Thinking about the gay Mormon kid I met in middle school and how all the other Mormons were convinced he was gay-faking and actually straight

[seawitchkaraoke]

I love when ppl follow me immediately after reblogging a post of mine, thank you for letting me know which fandom I will disappoint you by not posting enough about lmao

[marietheran]

Things I need:

An objective source on the Israel-Hamas war that I can know always tells the truth and the whole truth

[mountain-lion-gremlin]

i'm just wondering how real p-shifting is. i really want to be able to do it, but i don't know if it's something that's real, feasible and worth my time working towards, or if it's not.

i guess something that would help is some sort of proof that it's been done before. if it genuinely has, i absolutely want to get going on my own journey.

and i'm not saying it's impossible, but i just want to learn how possible it is and if current methods lead to genuine results. thanks!

OH OKAY, let me help you a bit fellow anon.

Honestly im not sure how exactly to affirm if it's real or not. I've had evidence such as growing fur strands, half shifting in my sleep, and even learning recently that when I was very little I had p-shifted before. That's just me, I've been a shifter for a long time and eventually came to this through WAY TOO MUCH exploring and asking myself hard questions.

Usually though, the best thing I can tell any curious individual is to just... go through the very first step of being a shifter. Its incredibly helpful, and will answer the majority of present questions at the beginning stage. If you want more details on this I will gladly do a follow-up, but currently I still have to collect and get my facts straight about this first step. More developed guides (such as phenexus weyr and even blaze's guide to shifting) will be much more helpful then what i have to say. Perhaps I'll have a guide to give one day too after all of this 💀

I can tell you though to just go for it. Not start p-shifting i mean, you wont be able to do so for a long time if you eventually figure out you are a p-shifter. Its better to know by exploring instead of just never trying because you are afraid of it not being real.

P-shifting is only a tiny part of being a shifter (as I've said over and over again lol) but similar to theirans our identities live on within us our whole lives. It's just keeping a healthy balance of understanding where you are at and that, usually, you might not be a p-shifter at all and that's OKAY.

Sorry I like talking. Perhaps that could help you a bit if you decide to begin your journey.

REGARDLESS.

i would honestly also love good evidence (images, videos, etc.) of p-shifting actually happening because of the methods that exist. (Disclaimer methods aren't "rituals" that are 100% guaranteed to give you results, they are only building blocks to help you develop your own style when you decide to voluntarily shift)

Ive had to realize that 1.) There is a whole community around it, from all walks of life and information, which gathered to give us the information we have today because they all experienced similar things too. 2.) time and time again there have been stories, from history all the way to now, where people have shifted into creatures and animals constantly. 3.) In truth you find your own evidence eventually, within yourself weirdly enough.

I can't speak for everyone (hell naw) but for me I eventually came to a point where i no longer needed to see from others that p-shifting was real, I knew it was real through my own evidence and experiences. Shifting involves a lot about connecting the dots tbh, sometimes it can take a hot minute to make the right dots connect.

If there is physical evidence out there, nowadays it's so incredibly targeted and never given a chance to believe. Like, honestly, tech is so good nowadays there is no way actual physical evidence could exist within the community anymore.

What im basically trying to say is that although physical evidence can help, at the end of the day you have to find it within yourself to see as true. Nobody can really convince you to believe otherwise 🤷

Thank you for sending the anon, and if you read this and want any more help or expansion on anything, please let me know and I'll be happy to expand. I'll probably stick around for a little longer to answer anything else anyone may want to ask.

[thegreatstrongbow]

Pondering this quote a lot today hm

[collecting--stardust]

I was tagged by @gxtzeizm! Thank you so much 🫶🫶🫶💕💕💕

I got two bingo 🥰 Actually I do listen to mamamoo, blackpink, newjeans and wanna one too but I only have a few of their songs in my phone so I didn't ticked it. But happy to find someone who has a superior taste too 😌

I'm tagging @tsuchansworld, @worldchampionpeccobagnaia and whoever that wants to do it! (I don't know if any of my other mutuals or anyone else listen to kpop or what type of songs they listen to so I don't know if I should tag them or not hhh But do let me know if you want to do it and I will tag you 💗) Of course you can ignore this if you don't want to do it!

[itsalwaysdark]

we had fun tho the whole family hung out and we did some sporclee and chronophoto and then globle me n lamp nd father did globle bc mein mamma went to sleep. yay :]

[pinksilvace]

This is such a specific question I'm sorry feel free to ignore it but I saw your post on ocd rep and it got me thinking, do you ever hear a one off comment from a person you think has some level of authority and it becomes a rule even though you don't really understand it/believe it and its actually a dumb hill to die on? But breaking that rule is extremely upsetting and might cause bad things to happen so you have to keep following it even though it's very inconvenient for everyone involved. Is that a thing or is that normal

Oh, absolutely! I'd say that that's both normal (i.e. relatively common, especially in social justice and religious spaces) and something that is a symptom of OCD, especially with how accessible information is right now.

I was thinking of something similar earlier today, actually. I hang pride flags on my walls since they make for good, large decorations, and I thought about how I would recommend doing so to anybody. Do they like the colors and/or consider themself an ally? That's a great reason to get a flag! Of course, some folks would say that only people of a certain identity should own certain flags, much less display them, but how does one identify an identity? How would one ethically police that? "Queer culture" itself is a misnomer - people of all cultures are queer, and nothing says that only gay people are allowed to pierce one ear but not the other or w/e. "Queer culture," as it is understood in many internet spaces, is White and USAmerican-centric anyway, and building strict rules within it is counterproductive, etc etc...

I especially understand what you mean when it comes to the subject of politics. There are many politically-oriented people in my life with a range of different views, and they express those views so passionately that it can be difficult to do anything but agree. My best advice when it comes to that is to slow down and acknowledge that it's okay for different people to have different opinions, and that includes you. It's hard. It takes a long time to embrace disagreement, even over little things, and that difficulty never really goes away, but it's still important to try.

Nothing you think can be held against you, and you do not owe anybody your thoughts. If you don't agree with someone and can't disagree with them, remaining silent is a completely valid option.

Ultimately, OCD is there to help you, albeit in a misguided fashion. Maybe it wants to keep you physically safe, or socially safe, or it wants society to see you as a "good" person, or it wants to grant you a modicum of control you have been denied elsewhere in your life. Rather than refuting it directly, I often find it helpful to acknowledge my OCD, thank it for caring, and let it know that it can settle down Marie Kondo-style. It's silly, but it's harm-free and it works.

This got completely ramble-y and I'm not sure if I properly addressed the question, but... hopefully this helped?

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

academic rivals request! viktor x fem!reader, nsfw

request: @4-leafed pls... if u have time pls write a viktor x reader that r both geniuses at the academy but very much toe the line of rivalry and sexual tension...i love competitive smart people that fall in love when the rivalry becomes respect ... and they FREAK IT!!! possibly in a lab ! up to you : 3c

i liked this request so much that i ended up writing a decent-ish one-shot….

rating: explicit

word count: 3,5k

warnings: academic rivals. LOTS of dialogue and bickering. dubious science because i skipped it in school, had to do some basic chemistry revision to write this pornographic catastrophe, so please pat me on the back. rough sex? rough… foreplay, that’s for sure. dirty talk, if you can call bickering that. penetration. reader tries to slap viktor, spits in his mouth and he cums in his pants. normally, i only write vanilla stuff, so i have no idea how it turned out THIS kinky (at least for me okay). not proofread (yet). nsfw under the cut:

—

“How do you take your coffee?”

His voice betrays the feeble intention of civility, fusing that polite inquiry into a hiss—a phonetical torture you didn’t even know could occur before. So much for killing you with kindness. Outstaging quips by desecrating courtesies. 

“I don’t care,” you mutter on autopilot. Can’t let him in on any personal preferences, no matter how insignificant. “Just don’t put arsenic in it.” 

Viktor scoffs. Puts the kettle away and peers at you over his shoulder, all wretchedly complacent. 

“So the rest of the periodic table is welcome, I presume?” 

Viktor. The local Nikola Tesla knock-off. Never a moment of peace with him; and the fierce taste of competition grows coppery in your mouth whenever he’s in your sight—the most handsome trigger of your cheek-biting reflex.

His name is an insult on your lips and you want to taste it. Chew it, crush it with your teeth and spit right out, preferably aiming for those poignant eyes seeking you in every classroom—so eager to light up with objection the second your opinion differs from his. 

Always the first prick to disparage your input. A never-resting generator of all the meticulous ways to denounce your projects. 

“If I may.” 

Sickeningly polite, too. With that lithe finger pointing in the air— so irritatingly comical. He may not, but there isn’t a chance he’ll shut up, now, is there?

And so he’d clear his throat, straightening his tie in that ridiculously solemn fashion. As if stepping on a pedestal to deliver a life-changing speech—not some shallow nitpicking regarding your circuit breakers. All eyes on him while his kept staring only into your soul. Special treatment, if you will. 

You will not.

“Using magnetic frames is careless,” he’d state. With his hand imposingly pointing to the blueprint on your slide. “Copper coils may oxidize. Not to mention the overheating. I would use thermoplastics. They’re significantly more efficient. And heat-resistant.”

Oh please. Like someone here gives a shit about what you’d use. 

But you can’t say that. Not in a room full of professors. And, judging from the countless nods of approval, the shits were, in fact, being given. 

“Too risky,” you oppose. “Thermoplastics often degrade at high temperatures. Electric insulation is not worth the damage of releasing hydrocarbons. I assumed that you’d be aware of that, Viktor. But I suppose that was an omission on my part.” 

More nods of approval, now in your favour. Here it goes again—the ever-lasting spectacle of hatred. Elegant, when entertaining the audience. Anything but discreet, in private. A perpetually drawn game of chess. By repetition, not agreement. Both of you refuse to retreat until checkmate. 

Oh yes, the sentiment was mutual. You and Viktor were notorious for tearing at each other's throats. The things you’d sacrifice to make that more than a mere metaphor, though. To pull him by that neat tie to sweet asphyxiation and hear him rasp for mercy with eyes full of pathetic condemnation. And he dreamed of that, too. His cane was itching to give you a smack—to paint your behind a plum so deep you’ll have troubles sitting without wincing. When it came to making metaphors literal, he’d pick being the pain in your ass.

However, your mentors couldn’t care less about the rivalry. The Collegiate Inventors Competition was coming up. And who could possibly make better candidates than two greatest minds of the engineering department, with academic excellence so accurately neck and neck that both of your names now occupy the honorary first place in every ranking table? 

That’s how you ended up with your sentence—three weeks of after-hours cooperation in the lab with the incorrigible bastard himself, a quarter of which you’d already successfully wasted on pointless bickering. Well, not without achieving some common grounds. The choice of prototype landed on one of your personal ambitions—a wearable exoskeleton for post-surgery rehabilitation, with plenty of robotics involved. Endorsed by Viktor, for once. The greater good must have swallowed even his dispute. Off to a nice start, if someone were to ask you.

However, the first issues struck early: on the very stage of development. Viktor volunteered for modelling: meaning, the framework would be custom, to accommodate his spine specifically. An object lesson for everyone involved, it would seem—but only in an ideal world. Which, considering what you had at hand (acrimony, bitterness, an entire picky bit of gall), was filtered out by default.

Now, five gruesome days and who’s-even-counting-anymore restarts later, you’re nowhere near close to at least a draft, yet borderline keen on murdering each other. And you’re certain the latter is approaching. He did just contemplate putting arsenic in your cup, after all. 

Viktor stirs the coffee. Watches his reflection smudge in the dark, whirly water, shooting you an askance glance from beneath thick brows when you start stirring yours—the spoon clanking a tad too loud, as if you were doing it on purpose. Which, you undoubtedly were. 

“Stop that,” he groans, almost leaping out of his chair. Heavy, disturbed gaze meets your cheeky simper. “You don’t have to stir it so thoroughly. It’s not like you take it with sugar anyway.”

“Of course.” You shrug. “I don’t drink slop.”

“Oh, I figured. There’s nothing sweet about you, so why would your coffee be any different?”

“There’s plenty of sweetness about me. I simply don’t squander it on entitled pricks.” 

That finally grounds him. And you’re giddy for the way his sturdy hand grips the cup so hard that it almost shatters into his palm, knuckles growing pale enough to match the porcelain. More so when you take a loud, languid sip, feigning innocence. Fully wallowing in his darling, defeated speechlessness. 

“Excuse you,” he mutters. “Entitled?!” 

“So you agree with the ‘prick’ part?” 

“Yes, and I take great pride in it. You may mark me flustered.” 

“Don’t forget to bust in your pants.”

Viktor sneers: chapped lip twitching, scowl growing defensive. Lanky legs untangle as he rises to his feet, towering above you in an angry lean on his cane—long frame transforming into your personal, scrawny menace, pissed exhale sharp and nasal above your head. And you admit to looking small beneath him—all hunched shoulders, weak smile finally tumbling lopsided. 

“Don’t you dare call me entitled,” he demands—and means it. It’s palpable in the way he twists the handle of his cane, the squeaky sound violently scratching your brain. “I sweated blood to achieve my privileges in this establishment.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “So did I, and yet you keep ordering me around as if I’m some braindead apprentice. We’re counterparts, Viktor. You’re supposed to be mindful of my perspective.”

“I never see you being mindful of mine,” he counters.

And, well. You can’t argue with that. 

Your coffee break continued in avoidant silence, but the ambience simply reeked of hostility—stifling enough to make you leave the lab feet first. The deadline’s chokehold besieging your neck wasn’t of any help, either—you had to submit the draft for approval by Sunday. And, so far, you haven’t even agreed on the design plan. 

You shoot Viktor a reluctant glance. Pensive, he sat slouched over his parchment, emitting pure peril. Like his shoulder blades might stab you if you attempt a single tap, belligerently peeking through the thin shirt. You tucked your lip under your teeth, chewing hard, tongue running over every small, neurotic wound inside your mouth. Fruitless negotiations held a special spot amongst your least favourite endeavours, but this conundrum called for a desperate measure.

“Viktor.” You winced at how chocked up it came out. He noticed that, too—because of course he did—turning in his chair to nod at you, ever so shit-eatingly. Lancing eyes scrutinised their way up to your face. What an affront. 

“Yes?” Always chiding in that condescending tone of his. Hissy ‘s’ echoed in the lab, gnawing at your nerves. 

“We have to submit something by the end of this week. Let’s at least decide on the blueprint.” 

“Fine.” He shrugged, returning to his sketch. “We’re going with mine.” 

“No!” You snapped. “We’re coming up with a new one. Together.” 

Viktor hummed in mock consideration. The strand of hair he’s been twirling unraveled, claiming more attention than you deemed him worthy of. Sighing, he lazily reached for your graph, frowning as his eyes started skimming over the scribbles. You made your way to the desk, claiming a spot behind his shoulder. That required a tacit truce. 

“You really want to wield… hydraulic actuators?” He winced, looking up at you. Had your breath hitching at that respectful attempt, the effort prominent in the very way he uttered those words—as if struggling to filter out swear ones. 

“Yes,” you mustered. “For high power.” 

“But they’re so heavy.”  

“Well, what would you use?” 

He chuckled—rich and malicious. Flipped the page and finally averted those curious eyes, arching a bushy brow. 

“I thought no one gave a… crap about what I’d use.” 

Oh, well. It felt nice while it lasted. 

“How did you even—“

“You ought to be more discreet with your vitriol,” he retorted. “I’ll let you know that I’m a decent lip-reader.” 

“Then don’t stare at my mouth next time. What would you use, Viktor?” 

Now that left you both startled. His fingers stilled above the diagram, flexing in disbelief, hollow cheeks hued a puzzled rouge as you almost chomped your tongue off, showing an embarrassed curse back into the depth of your throat. 

“Ahem. Electric motors,” he chanted, pretending to overlook the slip-up. And for once, you were grateful for his tact. 

“I see. Well, er… put that down, please.” 

He instantly complied, fetching a pen. Left you to reflect on your misery to the rhythmic sound of his scrawling, pressing a sweaty palm to his forehead. 

“Right.” He sighed. “What about the power supply?”

“Rechargeable batteries?” You suggested weakly. “Lithium-ion.”

“Very well. Frame?”

“Something durable. Titanium?” 

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, pushing the notes away. “Why must you always insist on using the heaviest equipment?”

“I don’t know, corrosion resistance?” You muttered back, hovering over him. “Biocompatibility?”

“That’s perfectly manageable with carbon fiber!”

“So it shatters after the tiniest bump? Bravo, Viktor, how ingenious.” 

He lurches forward—rigid breath quivering over yours. Close enough to crush that thick skull with your forehead—if only you ventured, that is. But, alas, you’re not as brave just yet. Some brief eye-stabbing is about all you’re good for. 

“Fine,” he agrees, pulling away. “We’ll use aluminium alloys. Corrosion resistant and easy to machine. No one wins. Does that suffice?” 

“Yes. Now will you finally let me take your measurements for the sketch?”

He doesn’t answer—at least not verbally. Merely stands up and nods to the measuring tape, face still heavily contorted with displeasure. But you don’t oblige just yet. How can you, when Viktor’s fingers suddenly reach for his collar, fumbling with the button? And—oh no—now they’re sliding lower, reiterating once, twice, thrice, until his chest (flushed, but that might just be wishful thinking) is fully peeking out, teasing the smooth scrap of ivory skin. 

“What… are you doing?” You mumble, utterly startled. 

“…Undressing?” He says matter-of-factly, looking up at you so askance as if you’d just asked him if the sky is blue. One more ministration and the shirt is neatly folded next to the parchment—waiting for you to be through with the measurements to be slid back on his bony shoulders. 

“That, I can tell,” you mumble. “Why did you undress?”

Viktor’s gaze daggers into you again. “Don’t tell me you were actually intending to measure me clothed? Can you not comprehend precision?”

“Precision?”

“The prototype is expected to cling to me. I don’t see how that’s achievable with my shirt on— I assumed that was rather obvious.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Ah, sweet civility. I even started worrying that other entitled pricks must’ve depleted your decorum, but it seems like you saved some up for me after all. I’m flattered, really—“ 

You don’t even register when it happens.

Next thing you see is Viktor seizing your wrist—sternly yanking your slap off his face before it gets the chance to land there in a flared handprint. Nothing but pure rage and prickliness—right where his short nails are lancing your skin, engraving an ugly bracelet you’ll wear for hours.

Well, maybe there is something else. Something inexplicable, and tremendous—deep in the way your eyes keep drifting south—where his pants sling low on defined hips, and the pretty trail of dark hair runs from navel to waistband—no doubt circling exactly what you manage to make out in the convex slope of his crotch. And you want to slap him for that, too—sonorous, and frenetic. Going in again with full force, but his force always turns out to be fuller—and in an instance he firmly twists your arm, pinning it behind your back—pale face barely five inches away from your flushed one. 

What happens next is beyond any explanations. Later, he’ll blame it on inertia—that stupid urge to maintain the speed, to stay in motion with your messy antics until some external force stops him—a simple need to claim you before the inevitable collision.

But there’s no inertia in escalation. In the way his free hand grabs you by the nape and clashes agape mouths together, teeth bumping hard enough to make you consider booking a dentist appointment later. Not a sign of inertia when you grab him, either—a little clumsy through the sharp pain in your twisted arm—bold fingers raking his scalp in a vengeful tug on his hair. 

And it’s more than a kiss. If anything, it looks like you’re trying to eat him—tongue out and thrusting into his throat so fiercely that he gags on it, almost tearing up. Now you know what sheer desperation sounds like, and it’s grunting against your mouth, suddenly pitching to a pathetic moan when you grab a handful of chestnut hair and pull so hard that his eyes roll back, lean frame shaking under your violent approach. You use that startled momentum to try and pry your arm free, but he still keeps it in place. 

“You’re hurting me!” You hiss, attacking his neck—the very one you always shamefully admitted to finding the sexiest any man can possess, and your teeth roughly pinch at his voice box, coaxing another whine. 

“Good.” He groans with spite. “I hope I am.” 

And yet, he releases your aching arm, trading it for a calculated squeeze of your waist. But the audacity overshadows his little mercy. You instantly use the unrestrained privileges to force a finger into his mouth—astounded at the way he instantly opens up, almost mockingly pliant. More so when you spit on his tongue, sparing no shame—as if trying to rile him up beyond recognition. Grinning, when your saliva dribbles down his chin. 

“Ah.” He huffs, instantly licking up the remnants. “Thank you. Ever so disrespectful.”

“You haven’t earned my respect,” you lie, nudging him towards the chair. Not even bothering to wait until he lands, impatient hands already messing with his belt—so treacherously earnest as you shake, unfastening the buckle, and the bastard chuckles at that, looking down at your eager work. 

“That’s a new low, then,” murmurs coyly, helping you into his lap, heavy head leisurely thrown back. “Sleeping with someone you don’t respect.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh yes. You’re about to.” 

You glare at him from under heavy lids, but the anger refuses to linger—not when he stares back full of indignant awe, so clearly basking in your attention. With his cock half-springing out of undone pants, shamelessly twitching against your palm. And not a single breath was hitched to conceal his excitement. 

“Must you always be so insufferable?” You reproach, pushing his hair back—too domestic for your own liking, and yet it doesn’t feel unfitting. Especially when he leans into your hand, welcoming your touch on his sweaty forehead—like he wanted you to feel it fever up with want.

“No.” He shakes his head. “But if it can grant me this, I’ll triple the effort.” 

“What happened to new lows? You don’t have a fraction of respect for me, either.”

“You’re right.” He shrugs. “Fractions could never encapsulate my tribute to you.”

And his hand slipped under your skirt, shakily crawling home—precisely where you’d never confess to needing him a mere minute ago. But the sentiment did a decent job at diluting your rancour. There came no protest when he introduced two long fingers into your underwear, openly gasping at the evident dampness. And you allowed him that with no regrets. Moreover, you helpfully sank yourself knuckle deep, wincing at the brief burn, arms wrapping around his neck as he sweetly looked up, seeking your�� permission. Which was instantly found in the pretty moan you spilled into his mouth, slick tongues back at their futile attempts to strangle each other. 

However, your patience was running thin. As much as you wanted to indulge in proper foreplay, whatever masochistic dance he exposed you to had you in agony ever since it started—and it was getting unbearable to ignore the ache, no matter how bad Viktor  craved to postpone the main course. 

Your thighs clenched hard as you crouched above him, fingers wrapping around the hilt to awkwardly line the tip up with your cunt—the slick sound of it slowly sliding down suddenly igniting some tender bashfulness. Like you didn’t just spit in his mouth with a vile smirk. Like he never had to confine you from slapping him in the face. 

That stretch felt different from the one after his fingers. Significantly richer, it made you whine—a pitiful sound reverberating against his skin as you held on tighter and allowed him to bottom out, savouring every little crevice inside you. Raw, yet neither of you seemed to care—that concern was pushed alongside your underwear, then forgotten altogether when your walls clenched him, offering tight bliss. 

“Move,” you demanded, grabbing him by the chin. Viktor rasped something back, but you didn’t catch it—already too busy tongue-fucking his pretty neck, turning your teeth into sharp tools ready to stain it mauve with bites. 

And he complied again. One hand trembled on your hip while the other crawled between your legs—first missing your clit in the chaotic pace of thrusts, then finding it again as it grazed his fingertips. So cheeky when he dared to pinch it, avenging every pull on his hair. Though, he couldn’t gloat in your wince. Not when it clearly was one of the pleasured kind. 

But you didn’t feel like letting him regain composure. You already missed his husky groans—ached to test what else fucking you could make him mutter. Fogy gaze found his face again, softening at the sight—all wet forehead full of concentrated creases and thin lips bitten to bloodless paleness. 

You took over. Let him lean back and rest as you roughly rode him into the chair—and for that he gave you a grateful moan, the insistent thumb toying with your clit never stopping even for an instant. Good with his hands, and he knew it—proudly grinned when you struggled to keep going, taut legs treacherously giving up astride him. 

That didn’t please you in the slightest. You wanted him to be close, too: slid a hand up his chest and angrily tugged at one nipple—chortling when his mouth dropped in a stunned gasp. Bewildered, but he didn’t mind it—amber eyes squeezed shut when his head lolled, and you finally got his lovely moans back—raspier than before, ravenous enough to make your head spin. 

You could already feel it, pulsing somewhere deep within. Blurry vision couldn’t make him out anymore, the lab smudging into a mess of weird shapes—you were about to cum, hard, and Viktor threatened to follow suit any second—his thumb failing to hold steady, and yet the pressure was still there, courtlesly helping you chase that sweet relief. Such a gentleman. 

“Close,” you chanted. “So, so close.” 

“I know,” he answered, choking on a groan. “Me too.” 

And you melted, almost crushing him with your weight. Quivering in a spasm so intense that it had him struggling to keep moving, and yet he was mindful of the risk—used the last fractions of his brain capacity to gently nudge you off his cock and pump it fast and hectic. Cumming in one endlessly thick rope, with a moan so vocal that it reached you even through the layers of foggy, ear-buzzing aftermath. Had you shuddering when you clung off his shoulder, glassy eyes wide with trembling astonishment. You stared at him through the approaching wave of disbelief. 

No signs of regret so far, or maybe it was simply still forming—for now, you silently admired not a snarky bastard, but a pretty, fucked out boy beneath you. 

“Oh, would you look at that.” Viktor chuckled, sheepishly looking down. “I didn’t forget.”

“What?” You mumbled in confusion, following his gaze.

And when it finally caught your attention—sticky and relentlessly staining his pants—you slammed a hand over your mouth, muffling the hysterical laughter. 

“And here I thought I finally fucked your remarkable memory out.”

“Oh, by no means. As, eh… intense as that was, that misery of mine is not going anywhere. However,” he trailed off, his hand skittishly moving towards yours, “sex clearly proved beneficial for our… dynamic.”

You smile, sliding your palm into his warm grasp. 

“Can it ensure us enough civility to win the competition?”

And Viktor scoffs, coyly looking you in the eye. 

“Why should we limit it to just that?” 

[astrobymarwa]

Little things i notice about the moon signs:

(Again, other placements will affect your moon. This is just my opinion and what I've noticed. Feedback is welcome ofc)

Aries moon can be a bit impulsive. They process emotions in a simple, almot innocent way. They feel strongly about things.

Taurus moon shows their feelings in practical ways. They're usually not upfront about it, but if they like you, you'll know. They like to do little things for people they like without the person knowing.

Gemini moon can be good public speakers and be multilinguals. However, they might express different sentiments than what they feel inside.

Cancer moon (if developed) are the most emotionally intelligent of them all. They understand how their feelings completely.

Leo moon (if developed) are very generous, they'd give everything to those they love. They're confident and know their worth.

Virgo moon can get caught up in their own world. They think about certain things so much that they can get detached from reality

Libra moon (i'm sorry) but they can be people pleasers. They try to be kind to everyone that they can get fucked over by people.

Scorpio moon can sense when they're being taken advantage of fast. They're observant and notice things earlier than most other people. They also don't really forgive people that have wronged them

Sagittarius moon usually can't sit still, especially if they're worked up. They hate feeling restricted (in a physical and an emotional way)

Capricorn moon the least expressive moon sign. The type to express themselves in action rather than words. They can be really sweet if they want to. They'll always defend what they believe in and the people they love.

Aquarius moon's feelings are all over the place. They have unique views on things and say things that make everyone go ??

Pisces moon are usually quiet. They daydream a lot and are soft-spoken. They're also usually artistic (even if they're not artists themselves they'd still consume and appreciate art a lot)

[harmoonix]

🧡Late night astrology observations 💜

People with Sun in the 3H, 6H, 11H are really good at helping others and to communicate with them, they just have this very welcoming energy

Venus/Moon or Mercury in Sagittarius or in the 9H can make you attracted by other cultures also can indicate you may be attracted to people with multiple ethncities

Pisces and Sagittarius Venus are blessed with beauty since jupiter make a co-relationship with venus with those signs

Taurus Moon and Venus are such good placements to have in your chart, they make you so loving and charming, these placements bless you with beautfiul gifts

Having Sagittarius in your 4H/12H can indicate having more nationalities or ethnicities

"Energy is only borrowed" is such a 8H and 12H placements quote

Lilith in your 3H/Gemini can make you to act more rebellious while talking/you can talk dirty a lot/curse

People with a water sign in their 2H or 3H have beautiful voices! Other may find yout voice cute

Neptune in the 4H/6H/8H/12H can make you more spiritual or intuitive without realizing it

Uranus aspecting Moon can have stages of personality changes a lot, especially being moody

Uranus and Venus aspects always met like potential parnters without really asking for it, they just happen to meet by a certain situation

People with Jupiter and Lilith in harsh aspects can have a really intense and sexual energy

Jupiter in Libra/Jupiter in the 7H can be blessed with beautiful dating lives, even if you did not met that person yet, your time will come

Scorpio venus, moon and mars can attach to others so easily and in some cases being even obessed over people

The most jealous moon signs in a relationship ranked in my opinion are Taurus, Scorpio and Cancer Moons. I think is also because they have a really posessive nature

Virgo Rising can be the most hardworking person in a group project, they want to get the highest grade, the high possible place for them winning is essential

Having Pluto or LIlith in the 4H can sometimes indicate being bad influenced by your family members

12H placements esp Sun, Moon or Chiron are so spiritual, is actually insane how karmic and spiritual these placements can be

Chiron in the 7H can tell about a person which heals their partners but also their relationship, in the same time without healing themselves at all

Saturn in the 4h/Cancer can talk about a household where emotional needs were not so much present, Saturn may give emotional needs to the native from a partner rather than family

Scorpio Moons can posses trust issues and is usually a sign that they have been hurt in the past

Pisces or neptune in the 7h can talk having the need to connect with your spouse on a spiritual level

Juno and venus aspects can indicate having a beautiful spouse

Sun aspecting Pluto can indicate having to fight for your image since you can be seen as a bad person

Jupiter in the 2h or in taurus can bring sucess in money or sometimes wealth

Jupiter aspecting the ascendant can give a very beautiful and prominent face to the native, jupiter - asc aspects are so underatted in beauty observations

I wanted this one to be more of a simple - style😁👌 btw these observations were really made on a late night. Insomnia texting through...🙄🙄

[weed-cat]

hi! hello! hi! idk if i have told you before but you are literally just so os nice and considerate and i appreciate you so much! also based as fuck, i love reading through your posts, i usually refrain from adding ob things or whatver bc i am white and european so i don't want to stick my opiniond on your stuff but i always read through them!

anyway, i hope you're having a great day or night or morning or whatever time it is for you<33

emmi that is so so kind of you. secretly I'm actually a huge bitch but I'm only allowed to be bitchy sometimes as a treat. it's so easy to be nice to you actually you are so chill and funny and epic and friendly and you don't make kind interactions difficult at all.

also you are 300% still allowed to have thoughts and opinions near me I prommy. you may be white and european but you're a person with perspectives and experiences that are just as real as anyone else's. like just don't be combative with or try to talk over poc about poc topics and you're literally fine. you have a limited perspective on certain issues but so does literally everyone else on earth. tbh within any axis of privilege/oppression, the culture of Any Person With Privilege I Don't Have Is Inherently Actively Oppressing Me And Needs To Shut Up Forever can be cathartic for disadvantaged people but ultimately leads to a lot of social regression in the long run. unpacking and disassembling systems of oppression can only be effectively accomplished as a dialogue, not a TED Talk.