#because it was written in 2009
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The mere existence of Hadestown will never NOT be funny to me. It’s a very blatantly leftist musical (it’s got a fucking CARNATION on its album cover, which is an alternate symbol of socialism; with its themes, there’s no WAY the creators didn’t know what it meant) based on a Greek tragedy and featuring music genres that are rarely used on Broadway (jazz and folk; the only musical I can think of that used either is Chicago) in a time where most musicals are either toothless, feel-good or Hamilton, that made BANK despite the climax being a literal communist revolution and featuring a number where a guy convinces his followers that building a wall to keep themselves in is in their best interest because it keeps out “poverty” at the height of the Trump administration.
#hadestown#and they didn't even MEAN for why we build the wall to be about trump#because it was written in 2009#sleep-deprived post#shitpost
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not me creeping up to the wordcount of the fourth longest book ever written
#A Reflection of Starlight#AROS#valvert#fanfic#writing#Hey I switched back to LibreOffice again after setting up my new computer#(RIP my old computer's installation of MS Office 2009)#And also my old computer in general as it is now giving me the blue screen of death upon boot#but ANYWAY#does anybody know how to make LibreOffice stop highlighting formatted areas? BC with Dark Mode it's highlighting white text#which makes it impossible to read my footnote and page numbers#Also I CANNOT believe this program was coded to be so that 'Ignore' and 'Ignore All' options only do so for the CURRENT SESSION ONLY#Like what in god's name???#I spent 3-4 hours reformatting AROS after converting it only to learn that all the 'errors' I told it to ignore just popped back#the second I reopened the document like jesus christ#Why even offer those options if it doesn't do it permanently for that document file#HHHHHHHhhhhhhHHHHHH#I then spent another several hours being forced to change the language formatting to French for all the French bits#JUST so it would stop underlining all of them in red#And there's no way for me to get rid of the underlining on things like cut off bits of dialogue#bc they are NOT proper words and I refuse to add them to my Dictionary (thus polluting it) just to get rid of them#Ugh#So anyway remember years ago how I joked about what if I accidentally wrote a fanfic longer than the source material itself#That being one of the longest books ever written (technically THE longest book ever written#if we're counting the FRENCH version of it and not the English translation#And yeah I know I technically split AROS into 3 books but that was only for reader convenience#It's still one book in my heart#And also because I think it would be REALLY funny to surpass Hugo's wordcount#Which is entirely plausible bc in English it was only about 531k so I only a little over 100k off and I think I can easily make that#with the material I have left to write but is already mostly plotted out
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
i really do like oda i feel like i have to preface this that im chomping at the bit to get the actual plot with ace's execution moving since its been like 25 chapters and luffy STILL doesnt know somehow but im two and half chapters into amazon lily and some of this feels like its so comically misogynistic that star trek the original series in 1966 would have been like okay we need to rethink some of this
#i know this was written by a gen x man in 2009 in japan but#cmon now#maybe i shouldnt be reading this on only four hours of sleep because bro i am slogging right now#one piece#look normally when it gets into oda's woman crimes im just like#im reading a shonen manga and pull up the ''im sorry women'' screenshot and move on but so far this really isnt great#i really hope i like boa hancock and she makes up for all this because i have heard....mixed opinions
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
am i about to learn how to use AO3 skins for an unusual proposal. maybe so... maybe so.
#it's hard for me because the skins for inserting text messages into the fic are based on. like. the way modern texting looks.#which! understandable.#but i'm conflicted because the story takes place notably at the end of 2009#and the iOS messages would still be the shiny green and gray bubbles.#but those are ugly.#and i don't have a skin for them either.#so#hmmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnn#idk there's actually an 80% chance i just put the texts written-out in the fic and don't bother hgfdsjghdsf#blondiepost
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aghhhh The Sweetness At The Bottom of the Pie is my favourite mystery novel but I feel like I cam never recommend it on account of the racism.
#it's set in 1950 but it was written in 2009#it irks me because casual 1950s misogyny occurs but is challenged#whereas casual 1950s racism is not. indeed the main character herself is extremely racist.#which is. in character for a rich white british 11 year old in 1950 (or today...)#but is also just jarring to randomly stumble across in the middle of an otherwise fun and jaunty murder investigation#dont know what the solution to this is. but i do hope the author figures out a solution in a later book#alan bradley why did you do this to me personally#books#murder mystery#mystery books#lizard life#trenchcoat reviews#middle grade fiction
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Was going through my old sheet music from middle school and...
And so of course I brought out the old ukulele and gave it a run through (I'm surprised I can still play the thing actually) and... It's surprisingly good like it has no reason being that good for being arranged by 12/13 year old me... It's not finished though and i almost kinda wanna finish it for the 13 year old inside me...
#virus rambling#bbc sherlock#say what you will but the music in sherlock was amazing just like orgasmic harmonies especially in this piece#the funny thing is i play/played violin so i dont understand why i took it upon myself to arrange it for ukulele like???#i remember there being a dilema about it deing a duet because i had no musical friends#so i think thats why i was arranging it for ukulele because then i could play it by myself 😭#i think thats also explains the 'variation 1' written at the top#poor poor lonely middle school me with my instruments and superwholock😆#i might finish it... i might#also i found so so so many tabs for multiple other pieces and tabs for the ukulele written down#i also found the chords for the '2009 phan' song and 😭... oh gosh... if you know you know... i think i still remember it too XD#ukulele tabs#ukulele
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Old fandoms don't die, they just get put in the slow cooker to be ready in 5-10 years.
People need to get over this phase of abandoning fandoms so fast. There are 70 year old women still into Spirk and you people can’t hold onto a man for a month. Shape up and stop abandoning your gently used blorbos in wet cardboard boxes on the side of the highway after a week
#i haven't written vc since 2009#and now ive written almost 10k in 6 weeks#it's like it was waiting for me#and i haven't abandoned ff7 either im just conserving energy for ccr#i have abandoned hp and it hurt because it was a place i met so many close friendship but also fuck jkr#star wars is in hibernation i need another decade to recover from the sequels
78K notes
·
View notes
Text
we are watching summerslam which i cannot in good conscience recommend, does anyone have any burning questions they want to ask. it has been over a year since i've posted fic i think jesus christ life really takes it out of you huh. anyway i was typing the tags on this post for so long that two matches passed
#*#wwe lb /#i'm not rly planning on lbing perse but yknow i like having tags#god. sometimes time is really just not something that makes sense to me#i Have written most of a garcia/kingston silly thing i've been meaning to finish#it's not like i don't want to write things. i would like very badly to write things.#specific things even!!! i got a whole host of em i wanna finish!!#but one of the things about wrestling inherently as a medium is how the progression of the overall narrative is Always Changing#like the way i wrote that fic about randy and cody in like 2015 was super different than it would have been#had i written it during the time period it's based on: 2009#so if i start a fic that takes place in a specific wrestling era#my writing of that specific era will change even though that specific moment has already happened#fic i wrote about like. even just the shield#let's talk about that for a minute#the shield fic that i wrote in early 2014 is different from the shield fic i wrote in late 2014#for obvious reasons. but the fic i wrote in early 2014 about 2012 shield and the fic i wrote in late 2014 about 2012 shield#are specifically different From Each Other#even though they are about the same time period which in both cases had already happened#because wrestling and wrestlers keep going in a different way from other media#and much faster than other media#so the fic that i write about 2012 shield with the knowledge how things progressed in 2014#can't Not be different from fic i wrote before then#and fic i wrote about the shield (in 2012) in 2022#was different from both of those previous situations#because wrestling keeps going#so i worry that fic i started with a specific perception of the characters in one wrestling time period#will then become disjointed if i try to pick it up again with knowledge of what has happened since#this has not happened to my knowledge. btw#i know i just wrote all that about it#anyway the rest of my tags got deleted bc there were too many of them
0 notes
Text
I don't understand that my friends assume I already had my legal name change
I mean??? In this economy???
My guy we live in bureaucracy-land (aka Germany)
#the law that deals with name and gender changes was written in 1980#no kidding#they had to make adjustments in like 2009 because the law was unconstitutional#basically you have to be out for at least 3 years before even being considered for a name change#and then you have to also get the go by two random people who will ask you questions and stuff#trans#transgender#lgbtq
0 notes
Text
Passanger Princess
Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
Summary: (au) you love joel. he’s your everything and on a drive home you can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself so, you make him pull over…
Warning: 18+, smut, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex, car sex, slight dirty talk
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: hello! had this one written for a while and wanted to finish it and publish it before i get back to my coryo drug dealer series (read here). just a cute quick little smutty read for my Pedro lovers ❣︎ i want to get more perdo fics, but i need more ideas so send me requests! have a lovely day beauties and enjoy ❤︎︎
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
You love drives with Joel. Especially in his truck, a 2009 Chevy Silverado. One hand on the wheel while the other is usually grazing and groping at your thigh. In the summertime, you set your feet on the dash, roll the windows down, and take in the breeze while you casually ran your fingers through his soft brown locks. The cicadas buzz loudly, and the sun is setting perfectly on his face as the cornfields fly by in the background. The golden rays highlight his most handsome features, his large chiseled nose, and perfectly cut jawline. You sit up and he squeezes your thigh. You cup his face and he turns the smile at you.
“What’s up sugar?”
“Nothing, just can’t stop admiring my favorite cowboy”
“Hmm that’s funny because I ain’t seen no John Wayne around here baby” he chuckled
You smile and rub his cheek affectionately. You can’t help but get turned on to the mere sight of him. The way his beard shaped his face so cleanly, the way his shirts hugged his muscles. And about his arms. You loved the way they hugged you too. Strong and safe. You absolutely adore him, and he adores you.
You continue stroking his face, your tender fingers delicately moving across his skin. He’s so handsome. So incredibly handsome and you want him. Your hand moves down to his jaw, then down past his neck and you start rubbing, massaging him. You keep massaging him, occasionally moving your hand back up to his cheek so he can kiss your palm.
“Why would I want John Wayne when I got Joel Miller right here?”
“You flatter me darling.”
“It’s true!” You insist
He glances at you, kissing your palm again. You feel a small heat in between you begin to grow, you run your thighs together, and your clit begins to throb. You bite your lip, giggling to yourself and massage his neck a bit more aggressively.
“What ya need babe?”
“You” you giggle, biting your lip
A devilish smile spreads across his face and he glances at you. He simultaneously squeezes your thigh.
“We’ll be home soon. In ten minutes”
You frown and he squeezes your thigh again. Too eager and impatient, you move your other hand over his leg, slowly trailing it to his crotch. You squeeze it and he turns to look at your actions.
“Pull over…” you bat your eyes.
With his mouth agape he sighs in disbelief and awe. Are you really gonna make him pull over? The expression on your face tells him just how serious you are. You squeeze his pants again and Joel places his hand on yours, encouraging you to rub him over his pants. He searches for a place to pull over with some cover, but the long gravel road with crops on either side made it hard to find a good spot. Then, some trees come into view and a little path leads to an abandoned barn. Joel pulls over.
He drives onto the pathway until the car is more covered by the trees. He parks and immediately turns to you, hand roaming up your thigh more and under your skirt. Wasting no time, you climb over onto his lap and across the seat. You grind up on his crotch, his large, calloused hands splaying over the meat of your ass. He slides his hands under your panties, feeling how soft your flesh is. You smash your lips onto his, holding his face and he moves your hips against his lap. He moves his mouth with you fiercely, the kiss burning your lips.
It was safe to say you absolutely love this man. Everything about him, which you don’t feel like you could express through a mere kiss. You push your tongue past his lips and down this throat. He lets you in, swirling it with your own. You can’t get enough of him and his sweet lips aren’t the only thing you desire.
“Mmm someone was just too eager weren’t they.” He muffled against your mouth.
“Just shut up and kiss me Miller…” you muffle back, your words turning into a moan as his lips and tongue meet yours again.
You move with his mouth, fighting for dominance but also digging for more. You start unbuttoning his shirt, eagerly in need of wanting to touch his bare chest. You love to feel his muscles and how toned he is. He grins at you, thumbs hooking around your hips.
“I mean we could take this home if you really wanted.” You giggle, slightly out of breath
“Might as well finish what we started.” He smiles, squeezing your cheeks firmly.
You giggle again which turns into a soft moan as he sucks on your neck. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing his mouth against you more. He pulls back for a moment to take off his shirt fully, undoing the rest of the buttons and you pull yours off as well. You quickly unhook your bra, letting it fall gently off your chest and shoulders. He takes in the sight of you, and you him. You flatten your palms on his chest, rubbing up and down. He cups your breasts, not too rough, but just enough to turn up the heat from your core. He massages them, playing with him slightly and admiring the way they bounce.
You lean in to kiss him again, hands cupping his neck and lips wasting no time to show him attention. You feel like you’re practically addicted to his lips, like they were made to be on yours. And making out with Joel got you so worked up. The rhythm of your lips and his hips move in sync, your moans spilling out of you. Joel sloppily moves his hips, unbuckling his pants and sliding them down along with his boxers. His cock sits stiffly on his tummy and he starts to stroke himself. He snakes a hand under your skirt and pulls your panties to the side. Giving his hand a quick lick, he places it on your core, making you ready for him. Joel loves playing with you like this, he loves feeling the little bundle of nerves in-between your legs and how he can manipulate it. You buck your hips, gasping and clutching onto his shoulder. You smile and moan and he speeds up, kissing him messily and moaning into his mouth.
Wasting no more time, you move your hips and place his cock at your slit. You sink down, watching his eyes fill with lust. He feels up your body, groping your chest again, massaging you and you grind down on his hips. You start to bounce on him, causing the truck to shake slightly and when your ass hits the steering wheel, honking the horn slightly, you both jump. You fall onto his chest and slip out of him, he grips your ass, laughing against your cheek, kissing you sloppily.
“You sure you don’t wanna just take this home baby? More room in my bed, or the shower…” he huffs
“Mmm we could or…” you start as he moves his lips to your neck “you could open the door and bend me over the seat.”
“Baby girl, that’s so fucking tempting…fuck…”
You smile, taking his length into your hand and pumping slowly.
“C’mon Joel. Don’t you wanna see my pretty little ass sticking out the side of your truck.” You speed up your hand. “Hmm babe?”
He groans and starts to look past you and around at the area you are parked. Then he grips your hips, kissing you harshly and starts to move you off him. You shift back into your seat and Joel opens his door. You slide your panties off and toss them in the back seat. You open your passenger door, sliding your skirt above your ass. You slide onto your stomach on the seat, feet barely touching the ground. Joel comes up from behind, admiring the view you had described to him in the car.
“Fuck…” he whispers
He splays his hand out on your cheek, taking his length and rubbing it along your folds. You moan as he teases you. Then, he slides in, his pace tempered at first. He grabs your waist, pushing in over and over again, his hips meeting the flesh on your ass. He loves the way you bounce on him like this. His mouth falls open, his own moans mixed with small curses under his breath.
“Fuck Miller you feel so good. Harder…please I want more.” You whine
He ruts into you, picking up his pace. The grip on your waist tightens. You hold on the seat more tightly as well bouncing forward and back with the rocking of the truck. Just as you’re about to cum, he spins you over, pulling out. Joel picks your leg up, pushing your body up against the seat. He quickly pushes back into you, cupping your face so he can fully watch your expression. He loves how needy you look, your eyes wide and full of bliss. He captures your agape mouth, swirling his tongue with your own. You are practically clinging to him, totally trapped between his broad chest and the truck.
He pumps into you a few more times and you feel your high coming back. Your stomach clenches and you pant his name.
“Cum for me baby…” Joel whispers
You fall apart, arching your back, he holds you close to him. With a few more pumps from his cock he pulls out spilling his load onto the ground. You catch your breath, resting your forehead against his. He keeps holding onto your face, placing soft, small kisses to your lips. He stuffs his cock back into his jeans and you slide back into your passenger seat. Joel walks around to the drivers side, finding his shirt, putting it back on and starting the car. He shuts his door and backs out while you put your own shirt back on. He slings his arm around your seat and looks behind him, turning his body.
“So what were you saying about your bed and a shower?”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x female reader#joel miller the last of us#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou#fan fic smut#pedro smut#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedrostories#pedro pascal#smut#tlou smut#fan fic#fan fiction#fan fic writing#x reader smut#x reader#x you#x you smut
935 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alexander Siddig Vs. Jeremy Brett
Last Poll of the Quarter Finals!
Propaganda
Alexander Siddig - (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) - The very first actor I ever had a crush on.
Jeremy Brett - (The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Three Musketeers, BBC Play of the Month) - "Listen, I fell in love with One Man when I was 16 and have never regretted it. Jeremy Brett is Everything. Handsome, charming, sweet, amazing voice, delightfully eccentric. Shakespearean actor best known for playing Sherlock Holmes in the 80s, he is widely considered the definitive Holmes and for good reason. Bisexual and bipolar, devoted husband, he was known to serenade friends at restraunts and hold scavenger hunts in his home, where he hid the plunger in a chandelier. Often pigeonholed into period pieces, he owned them. He was a pretty young man who became not just handsome but arresting. He was one of those people who walked into a room and instantly commanded attention, and I for one have never regretted giving him my attention." Full text propaganda included below the cut
- No Negative Propaganda Please -
Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)
Additional propaganda below the cut
Alexander Siddig:
“At my first meeting with Garak I became visibly flustered. That was entirely my choice. It wasn’t written into the script. So I set off in that direction right from the get-go. And Andy (Andrew Robinson) obviously loved it, and that character became a series-long character because of that first scene. It’s an innocuous little scene on one of the little replimats on the station, and it only lasted like five seconds but it packed a punch because of the visible, kind of a charged, discomfort. That really made it. [...] I subconsciously keep that door open with just about every character that I play, and I always keep it as ambiguous as possible. One of my first roles was in [the TV movie] A Dangerous Man: Lawrence After Arabia with Ralph Fiennes and I played Feisal and again, not in the script, but that was charged with homoerotica and implied homosexuality. I’d just come fresh off that project. And I’ve done it numerous times since, characters that are written straight I just make sure are not quite straight. That’s just one of my things, probably because I’m not quite straight myself and that’s probably perfect." - Alexander Siddig in a recent interview with comicsbeat.com
Jeremy Brett:
“The superbly handsome Jeremy Brett, the regularity of his features made dramatic by a broken nose, the mellifluousness of his voice made arresting by a slight vocal impediment, presented a ravaged and romantic Holmes, a man who had suffered deeply and whose recourse to the syringe was the compulsion of a self-destroying temperament. His relationship with Edward Hardwicke’s transparently decent Watson was that of a drowning man clinging to a raft. The authenticity of the performance was unmistakable.” — “The man who created a monster; Conan Doyle hated the fame of his suave hero, but he couldn’t kill him”, Simon Callow, The Times, 18 December 2009.
youtube
Listen, I fell in love with One Man when I was 16 and have never regretted it. Jeremy Brett is Everything. Handsome, charming, sweet, amazing voice, delightfully eccentric. Shakespearean actor best known for playing Sherlock Holmes in the 80s, he is widely considered the definitive Holmes and for good reason. Bisexual and bipolar, devoted husband, he was known to serenade friends at restraunts and hold scavenger hunts in his home, where he hid the plunger in a chandelier. He also practiced archery in the middle of London. He could sing, he acted alongside Audrey Hepburn twice. He wanted to be a jockey when he was young but then grew a foot too tall. He had rheumatic fever as a child and was told he would never climb stairs. Dear Reader, he jumped over couches on film. In War and Peace he is very clearly the only actor riding a real horse, and is one of few actors who played both Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Often pigeonholed into period pieces, he owned them. He was a pretty young man who became not just handsome but arresting. He was one of those people who walked into a room and instantly commanded attention, and I for one have never regretted giving him my attention.
271 notes
·
View notes
Text
Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)
BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?
Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.
#good omens#neil gaiman#brian levine#neil the gould standard 2023#interview#neil interview#videos#fun fact#gos2#season 2#2ep6#s2 interview
740 notes
·
View notes
Note
So what is the threshold in declaring whether this experiment is a mistake or not? Do we need to send feedback in daily? Stop using the site altogether? What will actually be counted vs written off as people not liking change?
when we A/B test something, it means that one group of people has the new thing, and one group of people has the old thing. this youtube video is a very quick way of explaining that process, i suggest watching it first here.
in this case, with the new navigation layout, our hypothesis is that the new layout will be more easily understood by more people, meaning we'll see more engagement with the navigation items themselves. like literally, more clicks to the things we now have labels for, when before they were just an icon. and the fact they're in a place that's become more standard across the internet: a left-aligned sidebar.
ideally, that will lead to better retention of new users, and even an "aha" moment for people who have been on tumblr for a long time but never really looked at those different destinations. i've been on tumblr since 2009 and even i've found myself clicking on the inbox and activity more than ever, with the new change.
for us to see the change as a "mistake", we'd need to see statistical evidence to contradict that hypothesis, which we're already tracking automatically for everyone in the test. we'd also need to get an overwhelming amount of feedback to contradict any positive gains we do see. sending in negative feedback daily won't do that.
so if you want the whole thing to go away: we need to see a negative behavior change in potentially millions of peoples' behavior. that has happened before! we've rolled changes back that caused that negative reaction. that's the whole point of these experiments.
and if you want to send us feedback about how the experience is negatively affecting you: please, please do!!! despite the statistical evidence, we want to know if there are accessibility concerns we missed, usability concerns, design considerations, etc etc, because that's why we're running this as an experiment and not just launching it to everyone. that feedback is really important to us, as long as it's constructive.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
mad at me - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x afab reader
word count: 3.5k
tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, smut, unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), creampie, praise, spitting & choking (nothing crazy, i promise!), use of pet names (my girl, sweetheart, baby, princess, sweetheart), slight degradation (if you squint?)
summary: jack's latest game has tensions running high and feelings left unresolved. lucky for him, you know just the solution.
notes: so...this is happening 😭 this is very much inspired by the devils latest game against the kings where jack got pretty heated 😵💫 who doesn't love a bit of angry! jack? 🫣 but yes, as i've mentioned before, i don't usually write smut, so this may not be the best so any tips or comments you guys have to share would be much appreciated! 💗this has been partially edited, so if you see any errors along the way, they'll be fixed soon! as always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy! much love! <333
It takes a lot for Jack to get mad.
A sequence of events that all come to a boil, a mountain of incidents that snowball into an avalanche of his wrath. He’s so sweet, like sunny Sunday mornings that smell of fluffy pancakes and honey syrup - so, even now, so far into your relationship, you’re aware that moments like these occur. Of course, emotions wear thin like tired socks and you’re no stranger to your own and Jack’s that have seen all shades of the rainbow, but perhaps there’s something in the air, some electricity that changes the wiring of your brain because tonight is so different from the rest. Dissimilar from when you leave Jack be when his big emotions demand their place, unlike how you wrap each other in blankets of comfort when tensions have eased and everything is whole again. Because, again, this is not about you. It’s about Jack and how, as the universe has written it to be, gravity pulls straight towards him.
Things have been good - he’s come back from injury, back to his kingdom on the ice and the Devils have won back to back games - truly unheard of during their current season, beating their last opponent in regulation for the first time since 2009. It’s a big deal - the smile on Jack’s face says so, the satisfaction of his tone indicating so when he’s come back from his away games. So, you want this happiness to continue, because you love him and the happiness he illuminates but at the end of the day, his job is hockey. A coin toss of wins and losses that you’re trying to wrap your head around because you’re biassed and see all the commitment that him and his teammates put in everyday. As a result of this, Thursday happens; a dice roll of events that spiral into chaos.
You’re back home in Jersey, comfortably situated on the couch in the warmth of an ending winter that shows peaks of an upcoming spring. You’ve got popcorn in your lap because you’ve rediscovered how much you love the savoury snack, happily munching away as Jack’s game starts and the adrenaline kicks in. The first period is eventful with many saves that have you clawing at the couch, but then the second period starts and all hell breaks loose. Tensions run high and as level-headed as Jack is, he is not immune to agitation - subjected to a nasty hit into the boards, the opposing player purposely banging his elbow into Jack’s head. You’re about to start yelling at your TV screen like some drunken sailor because Jack’s been injured this season and doesn’t need more time away from what he loves, but Jack decides to get his lick back and you’re automatically silenced. Your jaw drags the length of the floor as you watch him crosscheck the hell out the guy, proceeding to rough the player up before referees interfere. Jack and the guy are arguing back and forth as they’re escorted into their teams’ penalty boxes and you’re just left bewildered, a mess of emotions with wide eyes as your stomach turns.
You watch astounded as Jack flushes in his temporary plastic home, eyes wide at he hurtles comments that leave the opposing player with a sour taste in his mouth. Jack’s shaking his head when he’s gotten what he needs off his chest, wiping away his sweat as his anger grinds to a simmer. Your eyes are glued to the TV, perched on the edge of your seat as your heart beats hard in your bruising chest. The power play continues on but you’re lost in a trance, awaiting Jack’s emergence from the penalty box that can’t come soon enough. Once he’s out, he’s sprinting for the puck and manages to get a breakaway that assures New Jersey a goal, but the loser in the penalty box with him is hot on his heels and Jack misses. He’s fuming once again, ranting to the referee that pays him no mind. Jack skates off, smashing his stick against the glass before he’s back on the bench and completely snaps it in half, a string of profanities leaving his lips.
You sit there in awe, your grinding teeth sinking into the flesh of your fingers as your brain becomes an all-consuming pile of filth. Your precious boy, who loves his three hour long naps and looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky, the hopeless romantic who pulls out all the stops for you simply because you deserve it and who holds you as if you’re fine china - he’s almost unrecognisable now, wearing his emotions like the number of his jersey as his expression pinches and his azure eyes narrow. A rush of emotions you both experience that make a home in the chaos of your minds that long leave the remnants of their havoc.
The clatter of Jack’s hockey bag echoes from the doorway, bringing you out of the syrupy daze you’ve been submerged in far too long. You leap off the couch as your body carries you towards the front door, electricity rippling down the ridges of your spine as your skin tingles with the unknown. You keep your emotions at bay for the time being, unsure of what state Jack may be in as you creep around the corner and catch an eyeful of his demeanour - blinding annoyance. An exasperated sigh pushes from his chest as he slips off his trusted beanie, the ruffle of his wet curls bouncing as his fingers card through his hair. You gulp.
“Ro?” you test the waters - short and sweet just to gauge his reaction, anticipation hanging in the air.
“Hey.” he bites, not bothering with looking your way as he shimmies his coat off with more force than necessary.
You gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling helpless. “I saw the game…”
“The one I almost got fucking injured in?” he chirps, looking at you now with a pointed stare that burns with all the fire in his heart. No longer azure, his eyes singe with an almost midnight hue. “What a shitshow.”
“That was a dangerous hit, that guy’s got whatever’s coming to him,” you’re quick to reply, taking small steps towards Jack who hangs up his coat. “But that doesn’t change the fact that people pay to watch you play.”
Jack stills in his movements, figure unmoving momentarily before his eyes throw you a lasting glance, the beginnings of a smirk working amongst his roseate features. “So, you heard?”
You blush under the heat of his undivided attention, gaze averted as you fumble with the hem of the hockey jersey on you. “Not necessarily.”
“Then what did you hear, baby?” he queries immediately, shifting so that his body now faces yours, an arm resting against the coat hanger as he sizes you up, unabashed and assertive.
Your stomach flips, the race of your heart undeniable. “You’ve got a mouth on you, so it’s easy to read lips.”
You’re chirping, working under his skin in a way that maintains some form of respect but has all the intentions of riling him up, which manifests into the beast you wish to see. A cocked eyebrow and a ticked jaw, flashes of disbelief flickering on his face. Once more, your emotions bear the weight of an anchor as excitement conjures up the swirl in your stomach, your masquerade crumbling at the seams as your nostrils flare, biting back a shit-eating grin.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he questions with a hint of humour, because he knows you like the back of his hand. You give him no response, preoccupied with suppressing the misplaced giggle that threatens to leave your lips. “I can’t believe this.”
The seams fully come undone, a snicker or two bypassing your lips as you retreat from the situation, ending up with your back against the door leading to the basement with Jack hot on your heels. Mirth bathes you in delight and you let it, a plethora of chuckles falling into your hand as you avert your gaze whilst Jack forgets any concept of personal space. Perhaps you’re deserving of whatever damnation comes your way, a punishment you’ve fully brought upon yourself, but when your senses fill with the waft of Jack’s earthy musk cologne and the remnants of his apple shampoo, accompanied by the warmth of his body that leans towards yours, you can’t bring yourself to feel a shred of regret.
His arm, enveloped by his raven black dress shirt, raises as he cages you in, vulnerable and at his mercy. “What else did I say, since you can read lips and all?”
This is a circus of words, meaning riddled in optical illusions that would have someone think none the wiser. Except this is yours and Jack’s circus, an act tailored for two that entertains your minds that run wild. A wildness you feed off as you meet him with the same decisiveness.
“This number,” you start, pointing towards the digits printed on your sleeve belonging to him. “86 is what people go to see - sorry, pay to see.”
You’re not really sorry, the smirk on your face says otherwise. “I think I said a lot more than that, sweetheart.”
“Besides all the huffing and puffing,” his tongue pokes at his cheek, a playful smirk betraying his flaring emotions. “You asked if he was there to play or to hurt people - fair point to make.”
“And all the others weren’t?” Jack’s moved closer, his thigh situating itself between the gap of your legs.
You bite your tongue at the friction. “You know the answer to that.”
“Maybe,” his caging arm leaves the door, the web of his hand sat against your chin as he holds your face, maintaining the same fiery gaze that unravels you altogether. “But, it’d be better coming from you.”
“Jack,” he’s flexed his thigh, your hand reaching for the button on his dress shirt as you wane in defeat. “Please.”
“I don’t follow.”
Your bawled fist meets his stacked chest. “Don’t play dumb.”
Jack chuckles, holding all power in the palm of his hand. “I’m just confused as to why my pants are wet.”
To prove his point, he draws his thigh away because he’s a selfish bastard and shows you the damp spot you’ve left after his thigh made its way between your legs. The shame that washes over you is unbearable.
Jack’s cold hands find themselves underneath the material of his jersey, one hand dancing along the outline of your underwear with a finger hanging over the top of the seam. “Oh, what to do with you.”
He’s such a tease, his ego large and in charge as you’ve long forgotten any sense of game at hand as your eyes pool with only an anguish he can extinguish. “Fuck me, please.”
“Why?” his tone light and airy, his finger hooked around the seam of your underwear as the material leaves your skin
You shiver at the breeze, eyes closed as your weak fist manages to grapple onto some material of his shirt. “Because, I need you and I think that goes both ways.”
The band of your underwear snaps against your stomach as Jack retrieves his hand, head cocked to the side as he considers the weight of your words with a locked jaw. Your teeth are sinking into the plumpness of your bottom lip, nothing but pleading in your eyes as you gaze up at him with all you can muster.
His hand lays against your cheek, thumb automatically caressing the skin - a touch that you not only lean into, but shiver towards. “Get upstairs.”
This is a fairly new playing field for you two - a game of cat and mouse that brings out an unfamiliar side to you, so foreign in nature that you second guess your desires and where your lust leads you. Jack doesn’t allow for any hesitation though, hand in hand with you as he comes into himself too. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips that lift, a soft smile surfacing amongst his features before you’re headed upstairs in a flash, scurrying towards your bedroom with a trail of your clothes left in your wake.
Jack doesn’t take long to meet you upstairs, his pinstripe blazer removed as he unfastens his tie around his neck. He spares you a lingering glance as you lay sheepishly on the bed perched on your elbows, legs ajar as your folds glisten in the soft bedroom light. Jack quickly rids himself of his clothing, slipping his boxers off to reveal his hard on. A comfortable length with all the girth to fulfil you, tip flushed pink as it brims with precum. It takes everything in you not to sink to your knees and fill your mouth with his cock.
As he approaches the bed, he motions for you to turn around and you do so with no questions asked, back arched as you wait in anticipation as you feel the bed dip with his presence. Jack comes up behind you, body so incredibly close yet somehow so far away as his hands make contact with your burning skin, giving the flesh on your back a brief massage. A surprised hum vibrates in your chest as Jack drags a single finger along the dip of your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he adjusts himself behind you, to which you push your ass back against his hard on.
“Stop teasing.” you sound more desperate than intended, cheek squished into your cool silk pillow.
“Can’t admire my girl before I fuck her?” The nonchalance of his tone draws a mewl out of you, your hips jutting as they search for any more contact. “Besides,”
Hands resting against the mould of your hips, one shifts as you feel his cold index finger draw in between your folds, fingertips swirling around your clit. You moan brokenly, body curling into itself. “You’re just here to take it, aren’t you, princess?”
You’re nodding before your brain can even compute his words, humming along to accentuate your point as his fingertips continue to swirl along the shape of your clit. It’s too much and not enough - a tug of war of sorts that makes your hips rock into Jack, an action that at one point, has his tip catching against your wet entrance. A hiss from behind you sounds as you grapple onto the pillow beside you.
Jack’s hand leaves you high and dry, but alias, his patiences dissipates into the night sky as he glides into you in one smooth motion, robbing you of your breath and sanity as your mouth gapes open and eyes roll. Sinking into the mattress, your spread legs accommodate for the snap of Jack’s hips as he starts to fuck you from behind, your back curving as you gladly take everything he’s offering. Face mangled into your hoard of pillows, your fingers cling to the duvet for some kind of security, at the mercy of Jack who pleases you in all the way he knows how.
“How hard do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, maybe genuinely because his strength seems somehow restricted, but you’re keening high in your throat at how filthy his words fall from his rosy lips so easily.
“Harder,” you plead, losing yourself in the pleasure as your one hand shuffles to rub against your neglected clit. “Harder, please.”
And, he obliges, bullying his cock into you as you gasp at the impact. A smack lands against your ass, the supple surface sizzling as your hips retract, Jack’s ironclad grip holding you from escaping any further as his fingers make indents into your skin like notches in a bedpost.
“Hang on,” his pace slows, breath laboured as you feel him pull out of you reluctantly. “Turn around. I need to see you.”
You squirm against the sheets, easily complying with Jack’s wishes that suit you, your body turning as your sweaty-layered back sticks to the duvet. In the dimmed light of your bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Jack, whose wet curls fall in all the right places and how every outline of his well-built body drives you wild. You catch the shallow rises of his chest and the flush against his cheeks and as he tucks stray strands of hairs behind his ears, his hands find purchase at your thighs and draw you closer. It’s when he looks into your eyes, shameless in the pleasure written all over his face as he pushes into you again that you think you could never get tired of this view.
Your walls mould to the shape of his cock, sucking him in entirely as you both moan at the feeling. To add fuel to the fire, Jack decides to unfold your legs and hoist them over his shoulders, the new angle burying him even deeper and bringing you closer to the edge. A huff of amusement sounds from Jack as he peers down at your parted lips, wasting no time in fucking you into the mattress as the bed creaks underneath the pressure. His earlier annoyance rears its head in his movements, unsettled irritation laced in the impact of his thrusts, your cunt leaking all around him as he pounds into you relentlessly. So close in proximity, Jack takes the opportunity to caress your cheek, a sweet gesture as your breath hitches, all before his hand slowly drifts down towards your neck. An affirmative nod from you is he needs to tighten his grip, your brewing orgasm intensifying tenfold as he maintains all the eye contact to make you shudder.
He’s balls deep in you, each hard thrust punctuated by the smack of the wooden headboard against the bedroom wall. You feel him all around you like some wicked embrace: in your stomach, your lungs and around your throat, the snug clasp his calloused hand holds against your pressure points lolling your mouth open, gasping at the sheer intensity stewing within you.
Jack takes the opportunity, wet curls stuck to his forehead, leaning closer as he spits directly into your mouth, as he does onto the ice throughout his games. Something twists violently in you, back arching off the bed as your lips fall close to moan from the deepest parts within you, the taste of Jack on your tongue.
“Taking me like such a good girl,” he praises, your reflection plentiful in his eyes. “If I’d known you liked this, would have done it a long time ago.”
Everything begins to blur at the edges like an old photograph, bliss engulfing you in its heavenly fire as your skin shimmers with sweat and your nails scrape at Jack’s shoulder - a futile attempt to regain control that had been long lost, your bodies movement forgotten as you squirm and shiver all over.
Oxygen courses back into your deprived lungs as Jack releases his grip, burning hand against your cheek as his thumb brushes your cheekbone, catching your fluttering eyelashes. “I got you, baby. Got you, princess.”
“Never been fucked,” a whimper escapes when Jack notches that spongy spot that buries your nails into his skin, “like this. Feels-fuck, good.”
He laughs lightly, pace stuttering yet hitting all the right places. “Love giving my pretty girl what she wants,”
You clench around him, embedding your nails into the flesh of his back as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, gaze scattered. “And my pretty girl wants to come, don’t you?”
He poses the rhetorical question with a mean pinch at your clit before pushing a heavy hand down on your lower stomach, the pressure accelerating you towards your fast-approaching orgasm. The sounds pour out of you like a waterfall, eyebrows furrowed as you plead with begging eyes. “Kiss me?”
“Whatever you want, baby.” he breathes, almost whiny as his hand circles around your nape, your figure floating as your lips collide in a messy embrace, rhythm unmatched as your yearning seeps through your teeth.
Jack captures all your moans in his mouth, the new angle of his thrusts adding to the sloppiness of your wet kiss. The smack of his stuttering hips knocks against your clit in a way that has you seeing beyond, swallowed whole by his galaxy of stars as he gives you one last jerky thrust, teeth nipping at your bottom lip to undo you. Frayed at the seams, you come undone, unravelling in a mess that perfectly matches Jack as he quickly comes after you, coating your walls as your cunt spasms all around him as he rides out his high.
Once Jack’s shallow thrusts grind to a halt, he slowly pulls out a heavy sigh, locking eyes with you as he runs a finger down your sensitive cunt just to get a shiver out of you. Your eyebrows knit, a flare of annoyance mixed in with fatigue written across your face that draws a humoured snicker from your boyfriend. He collapses down next to you, a kiss pressed against your cheek before you both aimlessly stare up at the ceiling.
Amusement tugs at the corners of your lips. “You should get angry more often.”
“I was just about to say the same thing.” agrees Jack, laughter making its home between you two as nothing but sweetness lingers in the air.
“Come on,” he urges, his hand nudging yours, body prying itself off your bed as he goes to stand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
#jh86#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes fic#jack hughes smut#jack hughes imagine#nhl smut#jack hughes#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#residenthughes
783 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tossed Aside
Ectoberhaunt 2024 Day 2: Robot
Danny supposed he could understand. His parents (or were they creators now?) had barely paid any sort of attention to him in life, why should it be any different now? He had never really lived up to their legacy as the genius innovators of Amity Park. To them, he was average at best and lackluster on average. So, it didn’t matter to him if he was really Danny Fenton or not, not really, because they had thrown him away all the same. It hadn’t been permissible to do that to a child but to an android? It was just fine.
Ectoberhaunt 2024 Masterpost
DP Astro-Boy AU 1
Oh boy, this AU idea popped into my head seeing the prompt for this day, and 'prompt'ly (ha) took me by the throat. Now, I don't really know much about the whole Astroboy saga, but I remember really loving the 2009 movie. I have so much already written down for this and it has me foaming at the mouth bot from the headcanons and the angst I've built in here. I'd like to do more drabbles and art for this rather than write it out, so this should be interesting.
#ectoberhaunt24#EH Future#Day 2#danny phantom#goodfish draws#goodfish writes#drabble#wow writing exactly 100 words is interesting#dp astro boy au#i honestly love the vibes here
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
--- jealousy, jealousy☆゚.*・。゚
jake, neteyam, lo'ak (seperated) x f!omaticaya!reader
from a scale from one to ten, how jealous do the sully boys get?
contents ; pure fluff
requested by anon
neteyam 5/10
i feel like he rarely gets jealous
he trusts you with all of his heart. the other sully boys does too, but neteyam is more on the calmer side
there's someone staring at you? he shrugs it off. i mean, he does too, stare at your beautiful self
a guy clearly saying that he’s into you? as long as he remains respectful, neteyam wont barge in. because that would only crush that man's self-esteem
after you and that man part ways, neteyam finally approaches you
"who was that guy?"
"someone nice, he tells me that he likes me"
hearing your answer makes him smile, tilting his head down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, "that means he appreciate you"
his soft smile quickly changing to a sly smirk
you chuckle, "what is it?"
"he's really self-confident, i respect that"
"hm?"
"thinking he could snatch you away from me? he doesn't know you’re going to be my tsahik"
a light smack on his chest and your burning cheeks were able to make him laugh
this man is way too chill for my liking, but there will be times when he gets jealous and protective over you
lets say you were talking with a guy, then he starts to get all handsy on you
the man leans down close to your face, his hands altering from hugging your shoulders to touching your hands and hip. when you move away, he still comes closer, even when your face shows utter discomfort
"i, uh... my boyfriend would come in just a moment"
"what boyfriend? sweetheart, i see none"
"back off"
a warning hiss was heard. you both quickly turn your heads towards the noise and was met with a really angry neteyam. he came running, his steps loud and bold, quickly to snatch you away from that man's hold
"the fuck is wrong with you, touching a woman with no respect? do you not have shame?"
you couldn't see that man's face because neteyam is holding you ever so tightly to his chest, but you could hear him struggling
"well i, i didn't know she had a partner-"
"now he's here. back. off."
after the creep gets away, neteyam places his hands on your shoulders, quickly turning you to face him. his golden eyes scanning over your body with worry
"are you okay? he didn't hurt you, didn't he?"
you shake your head
it was more than enough for him to finally let out a sigh of relieve. his gaze softens as your eyes met. his hands went up to hold your cheek with the upmost care, completely different than his earlier tight and protective hold.
you could see his bioluminescent freckles clearly, as he leans down to you. keeping your faces close
"hear me closely” his whisper sternly, “no one will ever be touching you with disrespect under my watch, you got that?"
"okay, neteyam"
“and if i’m not around and a creep comes to you, remember to kick his balls real good. got that?”
“okay”, you giggle
"good girl" he smiles softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on your lips
the kiss was nothing more than soft and comforting. despite the cold night, his hold radiates warmth. he reaches down to hold your hip, making you wrap your arms around his neck in content.
but he quickly parts away. before you could protest, he whispers lowly on your ear:
"im the one who could touch you like that, you got it?"
jake 8/10
(this is written for young jake in 2009′s avatar)
young jake was unbothered
because one, he knows you only got eyes on him
and two, he’s confident about himself
‘why would you want other men when you got this big buff hunk right here’, is his mindset
i mean
he’s not wrong
and that mindset would only grow once he becomes the toruk makto. he knows he’s amazing. no men would ever lay their eyes on you
but before that, i would say that he isn’t that umbothered. he doesn’t want other men trying to hit on you because they thought they could get rid of him so easily. because he’s just a dreamwalker
if he notice someone getting too close to you and a starting to get a little bit handsy that you look uncomfortable, he would step in, by casually slipping himself into the convo
“...and then we caught this big sturmbeest-”
“that thing was a big boy, isn’t it? its able to feed the entire clan for a week! ya in the huntin’ party too?”
the man looks at jake with furrowed brows, shooting him with a why-are-you-here look. “right. and what is your business here, jakesully?”
“don’t mind me, i’m just here to tell her that food’s ready” then he leaned down to you, grinning, “can’t wait to have dinner with ya, darling”
that always works, because not long after you two would be walking home, hand in hand
he never really makes a huge deal of people flirting with you, because he could easily lure them away like he always did. but disrespectful people? oh he’s ready to throw hands
i know he would always want to be your big guy. yours to depend to and yours to hold. especially after spending the day acting tough, he gets all clingy during the night because now he got you all to himself.
there’s time when you just need some air, so you would curl yourself away from him and cuddle with your favorite knitted blanket instead
you could hear jake’s heavy huff. his hands clung on your hip in defeat after multiple failed attempts to turn you around to face him. only to realize you’re all wrapped up to your huge blanket again
“what’s so great about that dammed blanket? you know my muscles are comfier than that thing”
you let out a giggle as he rests his chin on your arm, pouting like a lost puppy, “ya sure ya don’t want to cuddle me instead? i’m warmer and way prettier”
“jake, don’t tell me you’re getting jealous of a blanket?”
lo'ak 12/10
now this man
this man right here
he's the total opposite of his brother🧍♀️🧍♀️
don't get me wrong, lo'ak trust you with every fiber in his being. he just got a bit of a temper
lets put him in the same scenario as i put neteyam earlier; he caught a guy staring at you for too long to his liking
unlike neteyam who shrugs it off, my boy would come straight to you and do what ever he feels like he needs to do. he would hold your hand, kiss your cheek or forehead, even on your lips. just to make the guy go away.
but if he sees you getting a confession from a boy, i don’t see him as someone who would interfere. he will if the guy starts touching you or making you uncomfortable.
“what does he wants?”
“who?”
“the guy you’re talking to earlier” he huffs, crossing his arms on an almost childish manner, “what does he wants?”
a sly grin appears on your lip, “why do you ask?”
he let out a scoff. “just answer my damn question”
“he said that he likes me, that’s all”
his stern facade worns off, he approaches you and rests his chin on top of your head. he doesn’t say anything, just holds you on that exact same position for quite some time
lo’ak is the type of guy who never really talk about his feelings. so just be prepared for him to literally glue himself to your side for the rest of the day.
#avatar#avatar x you#avatar x reader#neteyam#neteyam x reader#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x you#jake sully#jake sully x reader#jake sully x y/n#jake sully x you#lo'ak#lo'ak x reader#lo'ak imagine#lo'ak fanfiction
5K notes
·
View notes