#i have to find enjoyment in life. i have to do me and be myself and everything else will fall into place
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(Cw: vent post) We reached a new level today in our discussion about me moving and leaving mostly because I got my official acceptance last night (yay, I’ll be moving to Seoul in August! I don’t know how much I want to talk about it yet so maybe don’t send me any asks about it!) I expressed very calmly to my mom that no- I don’t want to leave, but yes- I am leaving because I am not willing to tolerate the abuse from my grand parents or take a trial period living with them.
And she kept going on about how I’d wanted to move at one point (but didn’t because I realize I need more support than I would get at the time) and she’s saying that I’m being unfair and making her feel guilty- because in her mind she has no choice but to provide housing for her parents (this is not entirely true: she has 6 other siblings- two of which own more than one house that could easily provide for them.) She feels obligated to house them however since we live in the same community that they used to live in and 20 years ago they helped her buy our house- money that she has sense paid back.
But my grandfather and I but heads- he yells a lot no matter how much I tell him to stop. He has told me on several occasions that my life will be worthless if I do not have kids, that I am obligated to serve him as the patriarch of the family- tads yada yada.
I have made it clear to her many times over the years that I will not live with this man. She knows this, and is preparing a place to live for them anyways. So fine- I accepted it and about 4 months ago I started making plans for myself to leave because I knew she was going to make the choice regardless of my feelings.
It sucks, I feel very abandoned and like my feelings aren’t valued by her, but that is like- the bare minimum of the situation. Like I feel very much like I was like “please don’t do the thing , if you do this I will be hurt by it” and she’s like “but I will do the thing” and I’m like “okay, I am hurt by it” and then she has a freak out. It’s very simple.
She wants me to absolve her from her guilt about not choosing me- and not convincing one of her other siblings to take care of them. She says I’m making her feel guilty when I’m seriously not- I am just Litterally like- having feelings. I cannot absolve her from something without betraying myself and what I feel and saying things that aren’t true.
I understand the rational behind her actions and I am still hurt by them. I understand that she will not change her mind about the necessity of them moving in and I am unwilling to change my stance on my grandfather.
I was very transparent in that I forgive her for choosing her parents by default over me, reader- I even verbally said “I forgive you, I am still hurt by this, but I forgive you because I understand you view this as your only option” but she still said? I’m making her feel guilty?
Tell me why she’s saying that- like I understand why things are happening they are. but just because I’m not willing to say that her actions don’t hurt me she’s saying I’m guilt tripping her.
there’s nothing to be done about my hurt feelings other than prioritizing myself and taking myself out of the situation that she has made untenable. She keeps being all like “I don’t want you to leave.” “I don’t want to leave either but you aren’t willing to do what it will take for me to stay, I forgive you for this but I am still leaving.”
In my mind this is a totally compassionate and reasonable thing to say, but she still??? Says I’m guilt tripping her??? and then she gets angry. I’m trying to be very mature about this. I’m trying to be very thoughtful. I don’t honestly know what else to say to her or what to do.
#I do not like being alive at this point#I’m trying so hard to just like being alive#to find enjoyment in life and stay safe and be happy#but man#I am exhausted#if I’d just kod myself in highschool none this stuff would have happened to me. I’d just be in the wind#I regret not having the strength to go through with it because I’d have saved myself so much pain
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The Online Fandom 7 Deadly Sins
sloth: complaining about how no one writes the tropes or pairings you like and bashing what's already out there, while refusing to create anything you desire yourself
greed: zine and other finance-related scandals with zero remorse for those negatively affected
gluttony: spending rent money on merch, experiencing buyer's remorse, then repeating the same process next month
wrath: anon hate over literally everything under the sun, even harassing official writers and threatening them if they don't make your ship canon
pride: devaluing other's characterizations and ships to praise yours as better, whether through a canon perspective or a moral perspective, when neither matter in the long run when it comes to your own enjoyment
envy: trash talking others' fandom creations or saying you won't bother creating anything because it'll never be as good as them
lust: fighting over who tops or bottoms because of your personal preferences when one, both, or neither could happen, especially when most of these characters never even kiss canonically nor have most people fighting done any of these things irl themselves
#parker says things#i'm not exempt I've definitely done a few of the things listed#especially pride and envy god those really go hand in hand and it's sad#but seriously...guys does any of this matter in the long run#just have fun#if someone is having fun in a way that clashes with your own type of enjoyment just hit da bricks!#that guy's got horns! well not gonna ruin my day!#live like Yusuke guys#i've been afk because I'm dealing with some intense depression but fandom has actively hurt more than helped me#and I know plenty of ppl myself included think discussion of meta is enjoyable but I think things reach a point where it's only stewing#the inherent focus on adhering to a singular strict perspective is toxic to ourselves in the long run#have fun! be self indulgent#almost everything posted is gonna be ooc to some people even if it's 100 percent accurate to others#and just in general idk I think we should focus on fandom as a sense of fun instead of a marketing ploy#most of us are not here to make fanart or writing a career#I'm not really a community person and I've learned that the hard way over a decade and more#but i just hope people will find what sparks joy and enjoy themselves again#I don't think I'll be active in fandoms much anymore as I focus more on my personal life and recover from some things#but I wish everyone much love and hope for the best for people#even if we've had some bad interactions I do not wish ill upon anyone#i got off topic but these tags are just me saying I'll stick to lurking publicly and replying to my DMs and writing in private#will still post some things to my AO3!! maybe#anyways tag yourself I'm a recovering glutton/envy
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it would feel so nice to work towards a career that has meaningful impact and makes millions of people happy
#i follow this person cleo abrams on youtube and she's always talking so excitedly about scientists#and their amazing discoveries cool facts and she's so excited and starry eyed and hopeful#she genuinely just wants to educate people and has so much hope that we can make the world a better place#also like idk maybe unrelated but i saw the mv of new romantics and just. wow#say what you will about her but there's no doubt she's made an insane number of people happy SO HAPPY that they're crying#so many tours#idk i want#i wish my life was bigger#i feel so isolated and always just focusing on myself my career my health my enjoyment#what about everything everyone else#i keep trying to be completely okay with being alone i keep telling myself to not need anyone and be 100% independent#find happiness within hobbies interests#but it feels like a losing battle#i don't know i just. miss everyone 😭😭😭😭#but it hurts too much tbh always more sad than happy always more crying than laughing#i miss my bestfriend i don't know what i did wrong but she won't pick up my call she keeps saying she's busy#i don't want to be clingy because she hates that shit i don't want to drive her away but she's my only friend#i miss my fucking mom she doesn't care if i live or die obviously but i miss just having her presence in the house#and even tho my sister is here she's never fully present always on her laptop working#i wouldn't really say i miss my dad but wow it's been so long since mom and dad stayed together at home it was almost#always miserable but sometimes at the lunch table it was nice#i don't know everything and everyone is moving and changing so fast and i can't breathe under it and it's already september#but this entire year felt like a blur it's like everyone who left took a chunk of my heart with them#and i should be happy because im so close to the exam which will get me out of this house finally be financially independent#like i wanted since i was 11 i could finally start my life#but it all feels so. i don't know the whole future seems black like i can't imagine life past november 2025#how do you imagine happiness if you've never been happy?#and all these feelings are making it so hard to study and studying is so fucking important because if i don't ill be stuck here forever#and i don't want to go thru attempts fail and pass again atleast back then i had a reason first heartbreak‚ not getting to go to college#but what now why now i don't even understand i know objectively i do not have it that bad it's literally better even if i compare to my own
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#this wasn't prompted by anything so don't worry#i've just been thinking about it from time to time#i think it might be helpful for me (and maybe for others too) to separate fandom and activism#not in the sense of 'oh but i watch [show] because it has great queer/poc/... rep! i'm doing my part'#but more in the sense of#'this book/film/show has problematic aspects and so does the fandom. but it is a hobby and does not define my political views'#because it doesn't and it shouldn't#being a fan of something means that i enjoy it. and others may not enjoy it for a variety of reasons some of which political.#that does not mean that our separate views of the thing define how we interact with each other outside of fandom#or how we approach (political) issues in real life#(obviously it depends. jkr making a fuckton of money for her transphobic agenda with hp merch should be reason enough not to buy her shit)#but generally...most fandoms do not have that much of an impact on real life. and so it should be ok to sometimes enjoy a thing#without constantly justifying my enjoyment to myself and/or to others. without constantly questioning it.#because i know that my actual political activism with irl impact goes in the right direction#and if you feel like your fandom experience defines your activism/is what your political views are being judged for#maybe you should find a second hobby; engage in actual activism if it makes you feel better.#because that will have a positive impact on society/the world; unlike apologising to like 47 people for uncritically enjoying something#(again. it depends. if a friend was really hurt by how [issue] was represented in a medium - I wouldn't gush about how much I loved it#or try to downplay it. maybe we won't make that medium part of our friendship then. and keep it in mind.#but i cannot keep my life 100% pure and unproblematic. that's impossible. and again. fandom is not how i shape the world. it shouldn't be.)#loquor#tdl#probably
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#liz speaks#genuinely feel like i'm losing my mind at this point#i want to write but i genuinely feel that everything i'm writing is not good enough#it has to be perfect or it's not worth anything and it's garbage#i'm feeling so restless these days because i want to write and create so bad but jesus christ#i think i might ultimately just need to take another step back#i love writing and i find it so enjoyable#but also i feel like i'm just shouting into the void on here all the time#no interactions no comments nobody talking to me except to complain nothing#and i don't necessarily do this for interactions but sometimes it's just nice to know that the work is enjoyed#because is it? i have no idea. it's almost always just an endless sea of likes#and i know AUs are bottom of the barrel these days in terms of what fics people want to read#but i can't bring myself to write everyday fics. the thought genuinely stresses me out#but i also know that's what's popular for people and that's what is going to get people to read them.#do i sell out and write what's going to get people to interact with me or do i keep being true to what i want to do and suffer in silence?#and i feel like i'm constantly waiting for people to tell me to quit bitching every time i say ANYTHING on here#like am i even having fun anymore? do I just delete everything and go do something else?#i think i need a break#from like here and life in general#maybe i should look into actually taking a real vacation and going somewhere#i just feel like no one even likes my stories. like interacting with me is a chore that people force themselves to do#and not just on here.#might be the depression rearing its head again lol but i feel like people only tolerate me these days idk#anyway here's wonderwall#might dirty delete later
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it is 4 AM which means it's Desperately Claw At Hobbies In An Attempt To Make Some Form Of Money To Set Aside So I Can Go Be An Adult Instead Of The Parentals' Puppet time!
#rosie babbles#orz#anyway#i wonder if my lyric-writing skills are any good in non-fandom-parody-purely-for-my-own-enjoyment contexts#bc good lird. openutau has me in a Chokehold and selling music Is In Fact A Thing People Do Sometimes#maybe i can even get my hands on enough money to replace my Good Headset that broke last year and record my own vb#like i've wanted to for like 11 years now#if i don't find my missing Nice Microphone first- oh wait i just remembered why i never used it orz#headset jack on my laptop and on my old phone (and now NO jack on my new phone) and it was an aux cord mic#which is plenty fine! i just could NOT get anything to recognize it as a microphone for the life of me w/o using a splitter & nuking the#audio quality from orbit in the process#but if i have a Microphone i can probably squirrel away somewhere to Record#if i can Record i can have essentially my own voice available to me at any time of day#w/o risking annoying or being annoyed by everyone else in the house#if i can have my own voice available Whenever then i can essentially make myself 'sing' basically anything. including anything new i cook up#holy shit i can be my own backing vocals for the#faedposting#final boss score i've got rattling around my puter#even if i decide to do the 'use irish lyrics (which i am NOT conversational in) instead of generic vocalizations' thing#sorry i got off track lmao#hm. anyway all that aside it still leaves the issue of 'cant make music w/my own voice unless i record it' while i still have#'cant record my voice unless i magically come into like. 50? 60? 70? bucks#or decide to just take the L and magically come into like 30-40 bucks instead and go for smth cheaper'#hrng…alternately i drag the microphone from the depths of Hell and fistfight my laptop's i/o settings#plus side of that second one would be being able to plug ANYTHING in as a microphone tho which would be nice#namely for my mom's old electronic keyboard im attached to and this cute little chiptune synth i got a few years back#ntm it'd be a LOT easier to record my irl analog instruments with smth not attached to my head#arararararararraararargh. the fixation spiral has me in its clutches#hm. i wonder what the rights are like for the various utau vbs and also for luka v2
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feel like i'm constantly between the urgent need to conect with everyone and feel loved and needed and the deep deep boredom i have with everyone elses business. good for you or sorry that happended.
#i want to be as close as my two corworker friends are to each other but I don't care about their stuff that much#basically i want to be left alone and adored and wanted but with my space#man i don't know this week i have felt very weird i need to lock myself in a room and have a sincere conversation with my brain#mostly rn i want to be alone in my desk and not talk and for it to be normal. but i wish that didn't make me feel so far away from everyone#i wish i cared more . i wish i knew how act like a human being without feeling like i'm putting on a play and be naturally interesting#but at the same time i don't come to this place. earth and work whatever. to be entertaining for anyone.#i have to find enjoyment in life. i have to do me and be myself and everything else will fall into place#I ALSO HAVE TO HAVE THE COURAGE TO BE DISLIKED#that's my biggest fear i think#gosh i hate it i hate it
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Listen, if you’re messaging me to tell me you hate how slow I am at making “content” (i.e. 120k novels) and you wish I was less sick so you can get more “content” you can just go ahead and unfollow me now.
You’re being neither kind nor supportive by telling me you hate my disabilities because they prevent you from having fun.
“so-and-so has X disability too and that doesn’t stop them—“
I’m so pleased for them, but disabilities are not a monolith. We don’t even experience the same conditions the same way. Please never ever use one disabled person’s experiences or capabilities to negate the life experiences of another.
Also, the “if you have time to write fanfic you have time to work” comment was super shitty.
I have been exceptionally open with my struggles with mental health over the last few years. Do you know how hard it’s been for me to find enjoyment in anything since 2020?
Do you know what it means to me to finally have something that’s fun and just for me again that I’m not beating myself up over because I “Should” be working?
Obviously not, or you wouldn’t send messages like that. You can just kick rocks, as far as I’m concerned.
To everyone else who sends me sweet messages telling me they love Hunger Pangs and can’t wait for more but also to work at my own pace: thank you. I don’t get to reply to as many of you as I’d like, but it means a lot to me to know you care about my health and mental wellbeing.
Have a Holly Mop watching over me. (Feat Mothman)
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Too Much to Be Enough
Hello, I had another idea for a fan fiction. In this one, I tried writing with an unnamed character after someone reached out to me suggesting that I shouldn't tag "x reader" even if the character had a short name. They were not this polite in their wording. Kindly let me know if you find this more enjoyable and if you have any advice or feedback. This was thought of as a one shot. Upon requests a second part has been written.
Part 2
Pairing: Franco Colapinto x female character
Plot: everyone thinks she's too much—too loud, too affectionate, too overwhelming—but as long as Franco loves her, she feels enough. When a painful betrayal forces her to question everything, she’s left wondering if even his love can truly be unconditional.
Tag: hurt/no comfort, angst.
Word count: 2077
Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.
Franco Colapinto had become a rising star in Formula 1—his unexpected debut mid-season with Williams brought attention, intrigue, and the buzz of fans enamored by his unfiltered charm and skill on the track. To the world, he was a formidable talent, sharp in his focus and strategic in his every move. But to her, Franco was simply her Franco—the person she adored with every fiber of her being, the man who lit up her world with his easy laugh and grounded presence. She never tried to share him with the world; her joy was simply in being there. To Franco, she was a grounding force. To her, he was the brightest point of her life.
Their relationship had always been natural, filled with the kind of closeness that felt both unbreakable and safe. She loved to be near him, to catch the quiet smiles he reserved just for her or hold him close, her arms around him like a shield. She had a way of finding him when he was deep in conversation, slipping her arms around him or perching on the arm of a chair, just listening, watching him with eyes that spoke of adoration. She adored him openly and shamelessly, kissing his cheeks, bringing him little snacks between meetings, and laughing at his every story as if it was the first time she'd heard it. It was how she showed love—boldly, sincerely.
In public, her spirited affection sometimes drew raised brows. She was quick to laugh, unrestrained in her warmth, the kind of person who got excited over the little things. When she spoke, her voice had a way of filling the air, especially when she became passionate, her laughter rich and booming. Franco’s teammates would sometimes tease her for it, not unkindly, but she felt Franco’s protective arm settle around her back, his voice lowering to gently bring her back to the moment, a silent reminder that she was safe, that she didn’t need to hold back. She never felt like too much with him; she felt like enough.
When Franco got his F1 call-up, the world saw his potential, his brilliance. He went from a promising driver to a star almost overnight, and with that came the scrutiny, the endless, dissecting gaze of the world. There were new pressures, new challenges—he was praised and criticized in equal measure, and with him, she found herself swept up too. Fans adored him—his directness, his humor, his daring spirit. He was the next big thing, and with that title came every word spoken about him, every inch of him magnified. And suddenly, they wanted to know her, too. Who was Franco Colapinto’s girlfriend?
But their adoration of Franco didn’t extend to her.
She’d never been the kind of girl who worried about attention, but the way the public spoke about her… it was like a slow, smothering weight pressing down on her heart. They saw only a girl who seemed too clingy, too loud, and too unfitting of someone they had put on a pedestal. Her open affection was criticized as immature, her laughter labeled as attention-seeking. They dissected her every move and labeled her a distraction, tearing into her with the kind of brutality she’d never experienced. It felt like strangers were peeling her apart piece by piece, tearing away the person Franco had always loved.
She tried to ignore it at first, comforting herself with the knowledge that Franco didn’t seem to mind, that he even loved her as she was. Franco was all that mattered; his opinion was the one she trusted. He was the only reason she could keep her head up, brushing off the hate as long as she knew she had his love. And when Franco looked at her, his smile never wavered. She held onto that—the belief that he loved her as she was, even when the world made her question it.
But then came Brazil. She’d been watching from the paddock, her heart leaping every time he turned a corner, nerves twisting as he went head-to-head with some of the most seasoned drivers in the world. And then, the crash. It was terrifying, watching him collide and skid, helpless from a distance as her heart stopped, praying he was okay. Her relief was overwhelming when he emerged unharmed, but Franco’s face had been pale, his expression distant as he made his way off the track. She could see the weight of the moment pulling him under, the strain and pressure breaking through his usually calm demeanor. She wanted to reach for him, to pull him close, tell him she was there for him, that she would carry the weight if she could.
But he’d pulled away from her, muttering that he needed a minute to gather himself. Respecting his space, she’d wandered to the restroom, splashing water on her face, telling herself he’d come around, that he just needed time. She returned to his room, pausing outside, not wanting to intrude if he still needed space. And that’s when she heard it.
“…but don’t you think she’s a bit much?” The voice was that of his engineer, a man she’d thought liked her, someone she’d shared a few laughs with before. “She’s always there. Always talking, always needing to be… close. Must be a lot to deal with when you’re under this kind of pressure.”
She waited, her breath frozen, trusting that Franco’s response would ease her worry, that he’d brush it off as nonsense, defend her like he always had.
But his voice—the voice she trusted, the voice that had always assured her she was enough—spoke words she could barely stand to hear. Franco responded quieter than she’d ever heard it. “Yeah… I mean, sometimes. It’s a lot, too much, you know?”
She could hardly breathe, the words sinking in slowly, one by one, like sharp blades against her skin. He thought she was too much. A lot. The one person she thought she could be her fullest self with, the person who had always made her feel safe to love so openly, to be unapologetically herself—he was overwhelmed by her too. She was his burden, the weight that followed him. Tears began to blur her vision, but she stayed frozen, rooted in place as she listened to them continue, laughing and talking about her as though she were some trivial inconvenience, as though her love was suffocating him.
She backed away from the door, her heart breaking with every step. The tears came fast and hot, her whole body trembling with the force of them as she stumbled back into the restroom. Locking herself inside, she slid down against the wall, burying her face in her hands, feeling her heart shatter into a million pieces. She had fought so hard to believe in her own worth, to convince herself that she was lovable and that her affection wasn’t too much for him to bear. But he agreed. He agreed with them, with the strangers who hated her, who thought she was too loud, too affectionate, too clingy.
She had tried so hard to believe that Franco saw her the way she saw him—as irreplaceable, as the very air he breathed. But hearing his quiet agreement, the confirmation that the one person she thought she could trust didn’t love her as she was… it left her feeling hollow, like a fragile shell of herself.
---
When Franco found her, he looked at her with that familiar softness, his arms coming around her as he held her close. She clung to him, not because it made her feel better but because she didn’t know how else to act, didn’t know how to pretend it was all okay. He asked her why she was crying, and she forced herself to smile through the tears, saying it was because of his crash, that she’d been worried. He looked at her with relief, gently pulling her closer, and she let him, even though his touch felt like fire against her skin, burning with the memory of his words. For the first time in their relationship, being near him didn’t feel safe.
In the days that followed, she withdrew into herself, letting Franco slip away piece by piece. She stifled her laughter, kept her voice low, spoke only when necessary. She still brought him snacks, still sat beside him as he debriefed with his team, but now she was a shadow, a shell of the girl she once was. She didn’t touch him as freely, didn’t drape herself over his shoulders or pepper his face with kisses. She gave him what the world wanted, the perfect, silent partner, standing just behind him, looking at him only when he looked away.
Fans noticed the change, taking to social media to praise her for finally learning her place. They called her refined, mature, supportive. They praised her “new maturity,” applauded her for “knowing her place.” They liked her better this way, in the background, quiet, subdued. For the first time, she fit the image of the F1 girlfriend they wanted her to be. She was a supporting character, there for Franco when he needed her but silent, never in the spotlight, never drawing attention.
But Franco hated it. He missed her laugh, the way her hands would find his at every turn, the way she’d rest her head on his shoulder while he spoke. He missed the way she’d light up a room with her excitement, her laughter like music that chased away the shadows of his stress. He tried everything to bring her back, brushing his fingers along her cheek, whispering little jokes, pulling her close. But she stayed quiet, her smile polite but hollow, her laughter a pale echo of what it used to be.
She wasn’t his girl anymore. She was someone else, a stranger wearing her face.
---
One night, after a particularly grueling day, Franco found her alone in their hotel room. She was sitting by the window, staring into the dark night, her reflection in the glass a ghost of the girl he had fallen in love with. He crossed the room, kneeling beside her, his hand finding hers.
“Please,” he murmured, his voice breaking with the weight of his worry. “Tell me what’s wrong. Where did you go?”
She looked at him, her eyes full of a pain he couldn’t understand, couldn’t reach. “I’m here, Franco,” she whispered, her voice soft and fragile.
“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice thick. “You’re… you’re gone. The girl I love is gone.”
Her lips trembled, and she pulled her hand from his, wrapping her arms around herself as though trying to hold herself together. She was quiet for a long time before she spoke, her words barely audible. “I heard you… that day in Brazil. I heard you tell your engineer that I was too much. That I was a lot.”
Franco’s heart dropped, a cold shock of realization rushing through him. He remembered the conversation, the way he’d laughed along, never thinking his words would reach her. “I didn’t mean it,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I never meant it like that.”
“But you said it,” she replied, her voice breaking. “You agreed with them. You agreed with everyone. You were the only person who made me feel like I wasn’t too much, like I was enough. But if even you… if you think I’m too much…”
Her voice trailed off, her shoulders shaking as she hugged herself tighter. Franco reached for her, his heart shattering as he saw the pain he’d caused, the light he’d extinguished. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I love everything about you. You’re not too much. I need you, all of you.”
He reached for her, but she drew back, her body a closed door, her eyes filled with a sadness that cut deeper than anything. “I love you with everything I have,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I would have given anything to be enough for you.”
He could feel his own tears burning, the agony of realizing that his careless words had stripped away the light from the woman he adored. “You are enough,” he said desperately, his voice thick. “You’re everything to me. I love you just as you are.”
But she only shook her head, her hand lifting to his cheek, her fingers brushing his skin one last time. “I don’t believe that anymore.”
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 angst#f1 x reader#f1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 angst#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fic#fc43 fanfic#fc43 imagine#fc43 angst#fc43 x reader#fc43 fic#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto angst#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto fic#f1#formula 1#fc43#franco colapinto
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As a child free by choice asexual person, who will never have kids or a partner, you’re constantly asked what your life is going to look like. And also how you can possibly find fulfilment. To explain how my life is in fact enjoyable and fulfilling, I bring up Tahani from the good place and her afterlife.
I absolutely love how they handled Tahani as a character and her development. While she was alive she was constantly aiming to achieve external validation, especially from her parents. So much so that she didn’t do much else with her time on earth. Thus when she finally makes it to the good place, she makes a list of all the skills of the universe and dedicates her time to mastering all of them.
I adore how they let her be single. Elenor and Chidi spent eternity together, as do Jason and Janet. But they didn’t do the annoying thing that a lot of shows do, and insist on pairing her off with someone. She never finds a soulmate, so she becomes her own soulmate. And she isn’t miserable about it! She is doing everything she’s always wanted to and constantly bettering herself as a person.
When she has completed her list, she decides it’s time to go through the door (which ends your existence). But then she realised she still has so much to do. Not because she doesn’t have a soulmate, but because there are more skills to master!
All this to say, I PERSONALLY see my time on earth as an opportunity to learn and enjoy everything existing has to offer. As an atheist who doesn’t believe in the afterlife, to me this is it. So I’m going to do everything I possibly can! I want to learn a ridiculous number of languages. I want to read all the literature the world has to offer. I want to travel the world and try everything. I want to create and make things. I want to be a scientist and discover things. I want to better myself and the world! I want to leave the world knowing I experienced as much as I could.
And the usual disclaimers: this is my PERSONAL experience and view of the world. It doesn’t apply to all child free or partner free people. Also for some people, a partner or children is all they need to feel fulfilled in life. I’m only making this post to show that it’s not the only way.
Always choose the path in life that will allow you to die happy. Regardless of societal expectations.
#especially since the first 20 years of my life were so miserable#like why would I spend another second of my life miserable and missing out on so much#child free by choice#asexual#aromantic#ace#acespec#aroace#arospec#lgbt#queer#the good place#tahani al jamil
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Fuck Me Like You Mean It
summary: a miserable time out at a club turns into quite the night when you run into someone you least expected to see.
word count: 4.9k
series or one-shot
warnings: SMUT, explicit 18+, MDNI, no outbreak, dbf!joel x f!reader, dark!joel, spanking, dubious consent at times, voyeurism, exhibitionism i guess, dirty talking, language, joel calling reader a cock slut, slightly creepy joel, unspecified age gap, daddy kink, brat tamer joel, hand job for a second, manhandling, dominant joel, oral (female and male receiving), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, jealousy if you squint. as always, if i missed something, please let me know.
you are responsible for the content that you consume. please read the warnings before continuing with this fic. enjoy babes.
A/N: i am so sorry firstly for teasing you all with snippets of this one-shot and then just not posting it lol, life has been a little chaotic, to say the least and i was just feeling so uninspired to finish it (literally i do this to myself). but so many of you loved the little teaser i posted and i couldn’t just not give ya’ll some delicious dbf!joel. so, here it is.
ALSO, a huge thank you and shoutout to kylee @hellishjoel for reading and beta-ing this for me, i love you and your freakouts were so valid haha. forehead kisses.
main masterlist
The pungent stench of sweat curled around your nose, setting your already overstimulated nerves into hyperdrive. Possessive hands pawed at your hips, urging you back into their body, into their growing stiffness.
Normally, you’d be all for it. The game. Going out each weekend, getting shitfaced with your best friend, entertaining men who you would otherwise have no interest in just to see them work for a moment of your attention.
But not tonight, tonight you’d had enough of it all. The handsy men, the unrhythmic and too-loud music, and just the whole played-out scene really. There wasn’t anything to get excited about anymore, each weekend blurring into the same version of the last, and the one before that.
It was boring and you couldn’t tolerate the lacklustre men around you for much longer. So, twisting out of the weak grip of the twenty-something you had been dancing with all this time, you abandoned them and your friend who reeked of desperation.
She’d hounded you all week to go out to a club, hoping to get laid, vetoing your suggestion to just get drunk and find someone at a bar. Now, you were at a seedy club downtown, getting groped from every angle by mediocre-looking men who smelled of too much Axe body spray and sweat.
The mere thought of the combination curdled your stomach, propelling you deeper into the club and all the way to the bar. You thought that alcohol might right your foul mood, your skin already pricking with annoyance at your current circumstances.
Getting to the bar, it was as packed as you had been imagining. Everyone was contending for the bartender’s attention, demanding drinks that you were sure were as watered-down as your first shot had been.
You sighed, wondering why you had let your friend talk you into coming out tonight, when it was the last thing in the world you wanted to be doing.
Lack of desire for the club had turned into plain boredom now, every ounce of your body thrumming with the longing to escape. But you’d never just up and leave your friend, no matter how much you wanted to. You’d just have to grin and bear it.
Tapping your finger along to the music, that wasn’t even good, the slow and melodic electronic music nearly putting you to sleep, you waited for your drink. Finally getting your drink from the bartender, you slurped it down, hoping the subtle sting of the alcohol would wake you up, and trigger something to make your night more enjoyable.
You began to walk back to where you had left your friend, deciding to scoop her drunk ass up and take her back with you to your place to call it a night at... you checked your phone, a pathetic ten-thirty. But you stopped in your tracks when something caught your eye, or rather someone.
Turning your head toward the seated area, which basically served as the VIP section without actually having the name, because there was nothing special about it. Old red velvet couches that had seen better days and probably had every fluid known to man seeped into the cushions, and wobbly tables that were smattered with decade-old stains.
You squinted your eyes, the stage lights blinding you as you put a hand up, shielding your eyes as you attempted to make out a vaguely familiar shape that was sitting in said area. You took a tentative step forward, thinking that your eyes were deceiving you, the wild lights making you see things. Because there was no fucking way that you were actually seeing what you were seeing, no fucking way.
Your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight. Your dad’s neighbour, Joel Miller, was sitting on one of the couches, a beer in one hand, his other hand disappearing below the cut of the table. Your eyes followed his hand, trailing down the length of him until they snagged on the back of someone's legs, kneeling below the table.
Your lips parted slightly, completely caught off guard by what you were seeing. You were watching your dad’s neighbour— or better yet, his best friend, get sucked off at a club. Feeling your face heat, you looked away, embarrassment coating your skin.
Your stomach lurched, turning with nausea and something else, your skin pricking with sweat as you glanced back up at Joel, meeting his already waiting eyes. Those chocolate brown orbs were blown, wide, and ghosting with surprise as he raked them over the expanse of you.
His face glowed in the low light of the club, the flashing lights dancing and snagging your gaze to his lustful expression. The way that his eyes were heavy-lidded, the slight sheen that coated his brow, and the way that his chest rose and fell excessively.
It was a scene that you couldn’t look away from, even though you wanted to. You wanted to get out of there and go... well, you didn’t exactly know. The longer that Joel’s eyes held yours, the more you felt yourself being drawn into his orbit, his world. Your chest began rising and falling in time with his own, and a dull throbbing began in your cunt, surprising you completely.
You didn’t think that you’d be this kind of person, someone who was turned on by watching other people having sex. But you also couldn’t deny or explain the influx of wetness that saturated your panties.
You awkwardly clenched your thighs, rubbing them together to ease some of the pressure you felt. Joel’s stare burned into you, causing your heartbeat to thrum erratically in your throat.
You felt sick and depraved and like you should be anywhere else in the world, but another part of yourself couldn’t look away, because you didn’t want to.
You wanted to see Joel fall apart right in front of you, to see him burst at the seams and devolve into a fit of pleasure right before your eyes. And like you had wished it into existence, you watched as he tipped his head back, snapping his eyes closed, his whole body convulsing as he came. You’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t a beautiful sight to behold.
Another gush of your own arousal leaked out of you, sticking the thin material of your panties flush against your cunt, rubbing against your already swollen clit. Fuck, you felt too hot and you needed to cool down, maybe splash some water on your face.
Ducking out of Joel’s line of sight, you headed past the winding staircase, down a rather dark hallway, and toward a couple of heavy-set doors that housed the bathrooms. There weren’t many people around, only a few bodies scattered throughout the hall.
Couples made out in the dark and you may or may not have seen a drug deal going down. But none of that mattered now, the only thing you needed to do was close yourself into a stall and try to get your hormones under control.
Even though the thud of the music carried all the way down the hall, you could still hear a rhythmic thump of someone stomping in your direction. You turned on your heels, anxious to see who it was. Before you could even blink, strong arms shoved you past one of the steel doors, locking it behind you, before planting you against it on the other side.
Your eyes trailed their broad and expansive chest, cresting at their salt and pepper beard and mustache, and settling on their sinful eyes. Eyes you had just been staring into moments before. It was Joel. Shock and something lustful coasted through you, sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine.
Joel’s face was inches from yours, his breathing mingling with your own, the heady scent of beer invaded your nostrils. His eyes dipped to your lips and then lazily dragged back to your eyes. His hands were resting on your hips, keeping you between the door and his body, caging you in.
“What’re you doing?”, you asked, swallowing thickly, trying to avoid his eyes.
“What’s it look like ‘m doing?”, he replied, his Southern drawl coming out as thick as honey, making your thighs snap together.
You shook your head gingerly, “Dunno...”.
His lips quirked up, a sinister smirk plastered on his face, “Turn around”. His voice was gruff and assertive, making you quiver at the tone.
You were stunned into silence, your mouth opening and closing like you were trying to catch flies, surprised by his forwardness.
“What—”, you started.
You couldn’t even catch your breath before Joel’s rough grip grabbed your arms, turning you around in his hold and pressing your front against the edge of the sink, basically bending you in half so that your ass was facing him, on full display.
“This fuckin’ dress”, he mumbled behind you, fisting the material and tugging it up, bunching it around your waist, leaving your ass bare save for your drenched thong. “Wanted to fucking rip it off of ya”.
You whined, pushing your ass toward him, your body completely under his spell, his raspy voice suddenly fulfilling every dirty fantasy you’d ever had about this man. It wasn’t as if he was unattractive by any stretch of the word, he was ruggedly attractive even.
Your mind couldn’t concentrate on your thoughts of how attractive Joel was before a stinging slap came down on your bare ass cheek. You craned your neck, as best you could, but you felt another quick sting, forcing you to remain in the position you were in.
“Fuck—”, you half-whined, half-mewled, both turned on and pissed off at the same time. “You can’t just—”.
Another slap, harder this time, causing your body to jolt and instinctively wiggle away from the pain.
“I can—”, Joel groaned, another full-palm slap on your ass, probably leaving a large, red imprint there. “And I will”.
Joel’s other hand was pressing down on your back, pushing your face further and further toward the porcelain sink that wasn’t as white as it probably had been once upon a time. It made your stomach revolt against you, the combination of cigarette ash and week-old vomit was not the most pleasant scent.
You felt Joel’s hand slip away from your ass, his fingers trailing over the back of your exposed legs, moving lower and lower. You attempted to look behind you again, his body not crowding you anymore.
When you did manage to sneak a peek, he was lowering himself onto his knees, spreading your legs farther apart by the back of your knees.
Your eyes went wide, “What- what are you doing, Mr. Miller?”.
Joel rolled his eyes, nipping at your sore ass cheek, causing you to jump. “So many goddamn questions”.
You muttered something incoherent, a protest of some sort, but Joel wouldn’t hear it, only ignoring you and continuing on his mission. He pulled your deep red thong to the side, the chilled air in the bathroom hitting your exposed clit deliciously.
“Mm, my favourite colour”, he groaned.
You shook like a leaf as you awaited what came next, feeling Joel’s harsh breath closing in on your pussy, the anticipation actually killing you. It was like a shock to your system, the feel of his warm mouth suctioning to your lips, sucking and licking like he had been deprived all this time.
Your hips pressed back into him, involuntarily chasing the sensation, the friction, the high. The brash feel of Joel’s beard tickled you, circling your entrance like a shark would its dinner. He licked along your folds, fucking his girthy tongue into your hole as he spread your cheeks further apart, stretching you painfully with the size of it.
You were a moaning mess, hands strangling the edge of the sink, as you held on for dear life. Searing pleasure gripped your lower stomach, throttling your insides as Joel picked up his pace, helping you to your orgasm.
It came over you suddenly and violently, making you shake as you clenched your eyes shut, rocking back into him as light burst behind your eyes, making your body sweat and tingle with the aftershocks.
You felt Joel move to stand, palming the flesh of your ass cheeks with both his hands as you took this opportunity to catch your breath. Your chest heaved as you lay virtually flat against the sink, your breasts squishing down painfully.
Lightheaded and completely fucked out, you hadn’t even been aware that Joel’s hands were on you again, manhandling you so that you were turned around, facing him. He roughly gripped the hem of your dress, yanking the material down, your breasts popping out of their constraints.
“D’you like what you saw earlier?”, Joel asked, his voice dropping an octave, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. “Hmm? Was that sweet lil’ pussy weeping for me while I was getting blown?”.
Your mind was clouded, a fog settling over each neuron, slowing down your capacity to think and speak, let alone to respond to him. You nodded your head, moaning in his ear, rubbing your jaw along his own, scraping your skin over his patchy beard.
“Fuck”, he groaned, rutting his hardened bulge into your thigh, creating succulent friction for himself while you leaned back, taking it. “I almost blew my load when I saw that you were watching me, gettin’ off on seeing that”.
You dropped your head to his shoulder, your mind still stuck in that post-orgasm haze.
Joel gripped your chin in his fingers, tipping your head up so that your eyes were locked with his, “Eyes on me, darlin’. I ain’t finished with you yet”.
You nodded again, your breathing coming out rushed as you gulped down heaps of air, filling your lungs, eyes locked on Joel’s. Your lids were heavy, vision clouded as Joel leaned forward, lips grazing yours.
His teeth came down on your bottom lip, suddenly, making you yelp. The pressure was light, not as hard as you were expecting, not as hard as a part of you wanted. Joel groaned, his hands roaming all over you. Your hips, your stomach, your ass.
Your hands raked up and down Joel’s chest, steadying yourself with the feeling of the coarse material underneath your palms. Your gaze flicked down to his buttoned-up shirt, to the three buttons that were undone, the dense hair on his chest, stippled with grey and white.
He hummed, his chest rumbling below your fingers as you dipped them under his shirt, weaving through the loose curls, exploring the feel of him. His chest was solid, firm, strong, dependable. A strange wave of calm washed over you, igniting your confidence.
“No...”, you breathed, your chest heaving, pulling one raspy breath after another from your lungs, “I’m not finished with you yet”.
Joel’s eyes widened, his mouth parted, his tongue peeking out to swipe over his already glistening lips. A smirk tugged at the edge, his index finger slipping past your bottom lip. You opened wider, allowing his digit to slip into your mouth, the heedy taste of sweat and something sweeter settled on your tongue, your taste buds exploding with the tang of him.
“Is that so?”, Joel cooed, his voice dripping, oozing with unbridled desire.
He pushed his digit deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat roughly. The intrusion was sudden, making your eyes snap shut as you tried your best to keep it together, to not give Joel the reaction he was looking for. But you gagged, all the same, drool pooling and dribbling out of the corner of your mouth.
You heard Joel click his teeth, a disappointed tsk coming from deep in his chest as he tried again, this time gripping your chin with his other hand, making sure you opened wide for him.
“Come on, you can do better than that...”, he mused, his middle finger accompanying his index, sliding them deeper and deeper down your throat, until you couldn’t do anything but take it, the will to fight against the shock to your system fading quickly. “Show Daddy how much you want to suck his cock”.
Your pussy began to thrum rapidly, your slick running down your inner thighs, making them sticky, making you even more of a mess than you already felt. You moaned around Joel’s fingers, sucking and bobbing your head along them as best as you could.
His hand dropped from your chin to rub at your peaked and sensitive nipples, playing with them, distracting you from what you were doing. It was maddening, the sensation, the tweaking, the way he chuckled under his breath when you stuttered around him, groaning every time you took him deeper.
He pinched your right nipple harder, twisting it, “Keep going, baby”.
That was all the reminder that you needed. You shifted your focus back, inhaling through your nose deeply, taking his fingers down more, more, more. Tears bubbled along your waterline, making your vision of Joel blurry, and unfocused.
Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, a thin line of your saliva still attaching you to him. Your attention was focused on the strand until it broke, your gaze sliding up Joel’s face, past his greying and patchy beard, his full, plump lips, and settling on his burning eyes.
“Are you ready for Daddy’s cock now? Hm?”, he asked, in an almost mocking tone.
You nodded, still a little dazed, still a little flustered. He grabbed your chin forcefully, his grip tight as he angled your head up, your eyes downcast as you kept them locked with his.
“Tell me you want it, darlin’”, Joel’s face was inches from yours, his lips so close that you could push up on your toes and kiss him, feel them against you, but you didn’t, not yet. “Tell me you need it”.
“I-I need it...”, you said, low. Joel’s brow raised, urging you to continue, “Daddy...”, you whined, your hips grinding into his thigh absentmindedly.
Joel nodded, his pupils blown out, gleaming with lust and dark intent. You watched as his hands dragged across his stomach, sliding down farther and farther, resting above his belt.
“Can I...”, you trailed off, preoccupied by his massive bulge, the way that it twitched in his jeans, practically punching a hole through them.
Joel smirked, “Yeah, go ahead, baby”. His breathing was stunted, coming out in shallow pants as he anticipated you finally touching him.
You reached out, hands dangling loosely on his hips, thumb rubbing along his zipper. You heard Joel’s breathing hitch above you, and you smirked. So, he was just as affected as you were... interesting.
Holding in a breath, you tentatively searched his eyes a last time, he nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving you. You sank to your knees, Joel’s hand darting out to grab your arm, stabilizing you as you lowered yourself fully.
You looked up at him through your full lashes, trapping him with your stare as you undid his jeans, slowly, with purpose. Your heart hammered in your chest, your mouth already filled with saliva as you awaited what you anticipated to be a huge cock.
You couldn’t believe that you were on your knees, wrestling with Joel’s belt as he stood over you, towering over you, when just the other day he was helping your Dad change the oil in your car.
Your Dad hadn’t been any the wiser to the way you had been ogling his neighbour and best friend the entire time. How you traced every bead of sweat that presented on his brow, how you watched intensely as his back muscles contracted under his plain black t-shirt every time he bent over the hood of the car, making you bite your lip as you imagined all the ways he could bend you over that hood and rail you into oblivion.
You had focused on his dirty fingers, how meticulous and deft they were as they tinkled with the fine parts inside of your car, how filthy they were, covered in inky black smears. You felt like you were in heat, completely turned on by normal, everyday things, something as simple as a man— who again, was old enough to be your Dad, helping your actual father tune up your car.
Pulling Joel’s zipper down, his black briefs hugged the shape of his cock, the fleecy material moulding his straining member beautifully. Your mouth watered at the sight, the size of him, the way that he smelled, even before you pulled him out of his underwear.
You couldn’t help yourself, you needed to taste him then, immediately. Your core fluttered as you inched forward, hands wrapping around his thick, sturdy thighs, your nose burying deep into his hardened flesh, inhaling his intoxicating scent. And it was intoxicating.
Your head was already swimming, your lips rubbing up and down his shaft, tongue licking his clothed cock. His musky soap took over your senses, the way his heavy scent settled over you, drawing you in deep, your tongue basically lapping at him now. Greedily, hungrily, shamelessly.
Joel’s hands dropped down to your hair, tangling in it. His hold was painful, bordering on brutal. You couldn’t handle it anymore, being so close and yet not close enough.
Your hands fumbled with the waistband of his underwear, dragging his pulsating cock out of them, feeling the weight of him in your hand. How warm and supple he was, how heavy and manly it was.
Wrapping your hand over him, feeling flesh on flesh, skin on skin, warmth flooded your core, arousal seeping from you again. Joel sharply inhaled a breath through his teeth, wincing when you took hold of him.
You looked up at him through lashed eyes, “What’s wrong?”.
Joel shook his head, “Cold”.
You snickered, rubbing your thumb over his slit, making his fists in your hair tighten significantly. In the low light, you could see a glob of something shimmering on his shaft, calling out to you. You took a closer look, realizing that it was lip gloss. Her lip gloss.
Your gut simmered and boiled as you inspected it, collecting it on your finger and wiping it off on his jeans, practically snarling as you did.
“She meant nothing, baby”, Joel said, his voice devolving into a groan when you slowly started stroking him.
You hummed, not completely satisfied with his answer but deciding to let it go for now. He wasn’t yours and you had no say over what or who he did. You tugged harder, angrier, even though you knew it was irrational to get upset over this.
“I can do it better”, you said, catching yourself off guard with your own words. Joel angled your head up, making you look at him.
“Show me then”, he mumbled, his eyes glazing over with desire as he watched you intently.
You sank down lower, face now level with his cock, fingers brushing against the wiry, short hair at the base. You inhaled deeply, inhaled the scent of him— sharp, masculine, heedy.
He was all man and he was all yours for the moment; his lips parted slightly, his eyes hooded as he looked down at you, his tongue darting out to run along his parched lips, watching you like a hawk, cementing to memory the image of you on your knees for him, his best friend’s little girl hungry for his cock, ready to gag on it and swallow down every bit of his seed until she was choking on it.
Joel’s cock pulsed under your touch, twitching with anticipation. Your lips quirked up at the edge, satisfied with his reaction to you, even though you hadn’t even started yet.
You leaned in, planting a sweet kiss on his tip, Joel’s hand flying to your hair, steadying himself as your tongue popped out, running along the underside of his shaft, the feeling so fucking delicious that he would have burst if he hadn’t tugged you away from his cock faster than you could suck him into your mouth.
“Stop... fucking teasing me...”, Joel breathed out, through clenched teeth, the pain in his voice making you giggle.
“Okay”, you conceded, rolling your eyes like the fucking brat that you were.
Joel loosed his grip on your hair significantly, and you pushed on, suckling at his tip, your tongue gliding over the head over and over again, effectively driving him insane— if his noises were any indication of that.
You took a deep breath through your nose and took more of him, hallowing out your cheeks, covering your teeth with your lips. Spit painted his cock, the smell mixing with the overwhelming scent that was already present in the bathroom.
You bobbed up and down on Joel’s cock, spurred on by the moans and broken grunts that were coming from him, your name and only your name spilling from his lips.
“God, you love this cock”, Joel mumbled, loud enough for you to hear, your pussy beginning to throb again. “Don’t ya?”.
You attempted to nod, opening your throat more for him to slide his length farther down.
“My little cock slut, huh?”, Joel grunted, his other hand joining the one that was already tangled in your hair, grabbing your head and shoving himself deeper down your throat.
You lost your rhythm, sputtering around him when you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. You closed your eyes, trying to breathe, but Joel wasn’t having any of it. He yanked hard, tipping your head up, your eyes glazed with tears.
“What did I say? Eyes on me”, he growled, taking over— taking charge of the situation. You gripped his thighs, holding on for dear life, as he used your mouth to get off, not caring in the slightest that you were running out of air.
Joel’s hips snapped violently as he pushed himself down your throat, groaning at the feel of it hugging his cock, squeezing it like he was fucking your pussy, fluttering every time you swallowed around him.
He grunted loudly, his tempo becoming stuttered, “What would your Daddy say? Hm? What would he say if saw you right now, your mouth stuffed full of my cock, makeup running down your cheeks?”.
You moaned around him, eliciting a pained groan from Joel, “Fuck, yeah, ‘s it... you’re doing so well for me”.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your eyes stinging as you blinked them away, swallowing around Joel’s cock periodically, trying to get him to cum.
He was close, you could feel it in the way that he was tensing up, his pace unsteady and rushed, head thrown back as he let the feeling wash over him. It was a sight to behold, your arousal leaking from you as you watched him.
A loud bang came from the other side of the bathroom door, some muffled shouting. Joel’s head snapped up at the intrusion, his thrusts becoming angrier each time he pulled out of you, only to shove back in harder.
The banging came again but this time Joel didn’t take his eyes off of you, didn’t want to miss how you reacted when he came down your throat.
“Want you to swallow it, darlin’. Don’t want you wasting a single drop”.
You hummed again, a hand reaching for his balls, massaging them in time with his thrusts. A loud grunt was all the warning that you got before Joel spilled his load down your throat, his seed hot as it pooled in your mouth, the taste salty and overwhelming to your senses.
You swallowed as much of him as you could, delighting in how he shuddered above you as he milked himself into your waiting and open mouth. He stepped back from you, tucking himself back into his jeans, running a hand through his sweat-slick curls.
A drop of his cum ran down your chin and you didn’t waste a second before you thumbed it, sticking the finger into your mouth and sucking it clean, a lewd pop emitting in the echoing bathroom when you were finished.
With a hand on the porcelain sink, you got to your feet, adjusting your dress and fixing your hair and makeup in the dirty mirror. You shrugged, not caring how you really looked, the club was dark enough that no one would be the wiser to what had just occurred. You hoped.
You turned to Joel who still had that look in his eye as he stared at you.
“What?”, you asked.
He shook his head, “Nothin’”. Another bang on the door, Joel’s head turned to the noise, his features darkening, “I’m going to knock their fuckin’ head off if they knock one more time”.
You walked to the door, patting Joel’s chest as you passed him, pulling it open. You stopped before you were all the way through, looking back at Joel.
You cleared your throat, your voice coming out raspier than usual, “See you around, Mr. Miller”.
You could have sworn that you saw a touch of a smile ghost his face, but you couldn’t be sure. You left the way you came, traversing the dark hallway and meeting up with your friend who was more than a little drunk.
You joined the group of them, dancing and grinding for hours. Maybe your night out wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought. You unconsciously scanned the dance floor— the club for the brooding neighbour you had a quickie with in the bathroom, but he was nowhere to be found.
You shrugged, only mildly disappointed that you were dancing with horny boys rather than the man who had made you see stars over and over again. But you smiled to yourself because you’d see him again, that was a guarantee, and maybe, just maybe he would need to help your Dad fix your car.
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Hi Hell, I wanted to get your thoughts on something. My friend who has been vegetarian for close to 30 years is thinking about becoming vegan. His main reason is that the pain and suffering of an animal in the large majority of the animal product industry is not worth the enjoyment he gets from cheese, milk, etc. He hypothesizes that most people are not vegan due to lack of education about the industry’s methods, and because eating meat is so normalized. I mostly agree, but something about what he’s saying makes me feel bad. Maybe because I don’t see myself ever becoming vegan, due to how much I love certain foods, but I like to think of myself as an empathetic and moral person. So I think I just feel quite selfish.
He is a very analytical and logical thinker, and says he wants to find more anti-vegan arguments before deciding for sure, but can’t seem to find many. What do you (and your followers) think? I was thinking you aren’t vegan, but I don’t actually know.
This is very much not my lane, but if you want my two cents then for me it comes down to a few things.
One: there is a basic mass of food that any human needs to consume in order to stay alive. That can be plants, it can be animals, it can be animal byproducts. For the a significant proportion of commercially produced food, there is a negative impact. It's hard to quantify; in some cases it is certainly direct, quality of life issues for animals. In other cases it's more broad environmental impact from commercial farming, or quality of life for the human laborers involved in harvesting etc. It's hard to come up with any objective measurement for harm when comparing individual animal suffering vs human quality of life vs large scale environmental issues. There's plenty of information out there on some of the vegan diet staples and how increases in farming things like quinoa have enormously detrimental effects on their native communities, if that's something your friend is not already aware.
Two: There is a degree of this that is just...unavoidable. Things eating other things is the way living creatures survive, and on a systematic level there's not a ton we individually can do to change things--and on a practical level, there's only so much you can afford to spend on food, and organic, cruelty free stuff is more expensive. There is a level of privilege in being able to choose to spend your money in that way that is not always an option for everyone.
I'm not vegan. I'm not vegetarian. I care deeply about animals, and I'm aware of what commercial husbandry looks like--it's pretty terrible. I still eat meat. I try to do so as ethically as I reasonably can.
I don't have an issue with eating other animals. It's a part of nature. To me, I see the obligation more to do our best to try to get meat (or byproducts) that have been raised as well as we can manage. Free range eggs are pretty easy to come by, if you live in the country. Same with locally made cheeses and butters, even farm fresh milk--some places have self-serve milking that allows cows to roam in pastures and then be milked at will. Price and availability will vary by where you are, but it's more and more common; as more and more people start to care about how the people and animals involved in making our food are treated, better options become more available.
It also should be noted that the animals involved in farming are almost universally completely domesticated. There's no alternative for these animals and their progeny except for life in human care. These breeds require human aid for their own health and safety, because we have been breeding them for (in many cases) thousands of years to rely on us and to develop traits that will not aid them in the wild. If everyone decided, tomorrow, to become vegan, then these animals would need to remain in human care for however many thousands of generations it would take to breed them back to the ability to survive without us, or we would have to sterilize them en mass and terminate these breeds through lack of reproduction. It is not an option to just release these farm animals into the wild. Domesticated animals require human care. Some of them, like pigeons, have gone feral when we abandoned them, but they are not like their wild cousins, and it shows.
Because of the selective breeding involved in domestion, most of these animals are producing byproducts--eggs, milk, honey, wool, etc--in quantities that they do not need. While some species have been bred to do that to their own detriment, most heritage breeds are fully capable of producing more than they need of these things, and there can be true symbiosis between these animals and their human caretakers. Some of these things they need to have removed for their own health. It's an ancient bargain--we keep them safe, and warm, and healthy, and protected, and they give us that which they have in abundance. The problem isn't the animal product, it's how it's produced commercially.
So yeah--veganism is one option, but it is, in my opinion, a narrow scope at an issue that is far more nuanced. I think it's equally ethical to aim for a diet that focuses on local, ethical farming practices--for growing crops, for caring for meat animals, for beekeeping, for chickens and sheep and whatever else we need. We've spent longer than any of us will live making these animals part of our world--discarding them and what they can give us is not going to benefit them. We just have to learn how to treat them respectfully.
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My 2 Cents
So, one of the follow up questions I asked was
"are you willing to recognize that you have a willing tolerance for antiblackness? That there is a certain amount that you are okay with allowing before thinking it's worth speaking up?"
My goal in asking this question is not to cause you shame (though shame is not inherently a bad thing).
No, the goal is for you to practice active honesty with yourself! Be willing to accept the decisions You made!
You cannot confront- and therefore address- your own racism if you aren't willing to admit to when you're doing and allowing it. Ibram X Kendi's How To Be An Antiracist touches on this topic, of how racism and anti racism are a series of choices, not identities! Here's an article discussing it:
"No one is born racist or antiracist; these result from the choices we make. Being antiracist results from a conscious decision to make frequent, consistent, equitable choices daily. These choices require ongoing self-awareness and self-reflection as we move through life. In the absence of making antiracist choices, we (un)consciously uphold aspects of white supremacy, white-dominant culture, and unequal institutions and society. Being racist or antiracist is not about who you are; it is about what you do."
My personal fan example (and you knew this was coming 🤣) is Hades. I recognized that Patroclus' design is a white man in all but his ashy dark brown skin. It was a racist design, meant to be "representation", and I thoroughly disdain it. It wasn't enough to stop me from buying the game and enjoying it. I made a choice, to settle for mediocre representation so that I could enjoy a character I like! I still spoke up about racist and colorist fan designs, hoping that at least fans may be more receptive to not replicating racism (but that's otros veinte pesos 😬).
I'd naively hoped that maybe they'd do better the second time; maybe their actions were from ignorance! Maybe they'd learn! A *snicker* sage old man once said:
"fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again."
Jokes on Dubya aside, I knew that I was already discontent with the designs in the first game, but I allowed it for my own enjoyment. I acknowledge that. But I had to be honest with myself the second time: if the lack of effort in the dark-skinned character design bothered me so much, and I spent all that time speaking out on it the first time... what do I look like then going to spend money on the sequel game doing it again? Do I really stand for what I said I stand for? Can I ask others to stand for what I stand for, if I don't really stand for it?
That time, I said "no". I decided I'd reached how much I was willing to put up with. I had to accept the consequences of speaking on that choice, including risking being rejected by a creative space I really wanted to be a part of. It is what it is. And it's one of many choices I'll actively make for the rest of my life. Comfort v The Right Thing.
Anyway, these are the sorts of conversations you'll have to have with yourself. Coming to terms with your choices along the journey will better help you identify just how much you're willing to sit on, and whether you want to make a difference about that. You might recognize when you're making a long streak of decisions that suggest you care less than you'd like to think; you might find out you've swallowed more than enough! But you gotta be honest about your own role in it!
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Unsurprisingly, a lot of the commentary I'm seeing about this has been of the "But--but--I would do the same thing because I don't want anything bad to happen to the deer!"
Look. I love wildlife, and I love getting to see deer, coyotes, and even the occasional black bear in my neighborhood. But they are here because there is good habitat nearby with lots of natural food sources, not because I deliberately put out food for them to eat. I respect them as wild animals with whom my relationship is very different compared to the domesticated animals I take care of every day. A deer is not a sheep or a horse; a coyote is not a dog.
People who do things like try to tame deer or, worse yet, try to raise a fawn or other young wildlife like pets are robbing those wild animals of their natural existences. We've already wrought our own preferences on the landscape to a severe degree, tearing the wildness out of it to create lawns and farms and subdivisions and strip malls. When we then dismiss the wildness of these animals and impress our own desire for connection on our terms on them, we are harming them.
I've already written elsewhere about the difference between "tame" and "domesticated". No matter how docile that deer seems, it is never going to be as (relatively) safe and tractable as a domesticated sheep or goat. It will always be more unpredictable, and more likely to lash out suddenly at a person due to fear, or hormones, or protection of young.
These animals need their wild instincts to be intact if they are going to survive without being dependent on us. They need those instincts in order to find mates and keep the gene pool stirred up. Their instincts keep them safe from danger, including humans. And their instincts never totally go away, no matter how much we may try to tame them otherwise.
This is why a good wildlife rehab is going to minimize handling of the wild animals they care for, especially those that are going to be able to be released back into the wild. The less comfortable these animals are with humans, the better their chances of surviving in the wild and having fulfilling, natural lives. Wildlife that retain their wariness of humans are less likely to end up falling prey to hunting, or being killed as nuisance animals when they get too aggressive in seeking food or otherwise coming into conflict with people.
The person who painted "pet" on a fully grown white-tailed buck and put a collar around his neck may have felt like they were doing that deer a kindness, but they have likely robbed him of the chance to just live a natural life as his own, independent being out in the woods and fields. He might be out there, sure, but perhaps he won't mate because he imprinted on humans. Or maybe he will end up shot by a hunter in spite of the precautions because he's just too friendly and those antlers are worth taking the shot.
There will always be something missing from this deer's life because of the arrogance of someone who thought they could own and keep and control a wild-born animal for their own enjoyment, instead of allowing him to come and go as he pleased. Honestly, it reminds me of King Haggard from Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn, whose response to seeing something beautiful was to capture it and keep it rather than simply enjoying and remembering that magical moment:
"I like to watch them. They fill me with joy. The first I felt it I thought I was going to die. I said to the Red Bull I must have them, all of them, all there are. For nothing makes me happy but their shining and their grace. So the Red Bull caught them. Each time I see the unicorns, my unicorns, it is like that morning in the woods and I am truly young, in spite of myself."
That's how I feel about people who are willing to drastically alter a wild animal's behavior for their own selfish benefit, even if they think they're being kind. I know I'm fighting a bit of an uphill battle in this, but I'm rather stubborn that way.
#deer#wildlife#wild animals#nature#animal welfare#animal cruelty#hunting#white tailed deer#zoology#animal behavior#ecology#environment#conservation#wildlife conservation#feeding wildlife#pets#animals#The Last Unicorn
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Okay you cannot give me possible Macaque vs the destined one without giving me some more! It wasn't enough! Loved it though. So I make m6 very first request to you.
Can I request Reader trying to identify Macaque from The Destined One?
Love your work
- Phoenixeclipse-lmkau 🩷
The blade sunked so deep in his abdomen and with such force that it not only went through but also pierced the stone behind him.
A sudden cry of pain came to him, stuck between the body weight of his opponent and the rock, and only when he tried to break free from them did he feel this burning sensation. Another scream came out of him, more powerful than before, and just when he tried to move away from the blade, the same blade turned red, with the smell of burnt flesh and hair almost making him throw up.
The Macaque just smiled, satisfied with his work. He looked at the scene, circeling the destined one, admiring how his plan slowly was taking form. The blood from the previous attack stood out on his white mane, and his gloden eyes gleam of pure malevolent enjoyment when he saw the other simian trying again to break free, only to meet more pain.
"I make it myself, I'm proud of it. Won't you think, brother?" He snarled at the last word, meeting the furious eyes of the Destined one.
How ironic to be raised both with the same intent, only to reveal the true identity of one another. And how incredibly satisfying to outdone what the first Macaque ever did.
"You...fucking ba-"
"Ah, ah, ah, I would control my words! Especially if I were in your position." He smiled, moving again the magic blade, causing another scream of agony.
"Why are you doing this?!"
"Why? It's not obvious?! To finally take what's mine! You did a good job, brother, really you did, but... well, let's just say that I need to remove you from the picture."
How could he not see it?! The fighting, those strange new abilities, his strange behavior—he was what was left of the Macaque!
But...Wukong killed him, right?! He was able to do it with Buddha's help! How was he able to come back?!
"I'll take the relics that you had gained, then find the ones that are still missing, take their power, and BOM! A new sage! ...this time me, of course!" He laughed; he must have felt so satisfied with how the situation was turning. The destined one was LIVID; he tried and tried again to get free only to feel that pain every time!
"You...won't! You can't find...the relics! Only the destined one AND the Bián huá have this ability!"
"Don't you think I wouldn't think of that?" He smiled again, looking at him, leaning against the rock. Instantly, the monkey understood what the Macaque Plan was going, and suddenly he started to struggle against the magic blade, trying to ignore the constant pain.
"NO! Don't you dare; don't you freaking dare! You won't lay a finger on her!"
"Yeah, and who's going to stop me, huh? I already take care of that old pig, and this thing here is made specifically to hold you in place."
The destined one, the One that was closer than ever before to awaken the Great Sage, was enraged because His precious Bián huá was alone and ready to be stolen. That was too good to be true!
"Aaah came on, don't take It too bad! I'm releasing you from this stress! You should thank me! ... Or you angry for something else?"
Yuán Fèn started to snarl so hard that his own teeth were cutting his cheeks from inside. His wound was getting worse for the continuous reopening from the metal and the burn. His eyes were glowing from his rage and fear of what could happen to you with the macaque.
His counterpart, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, but he had work to do...
"Don't worry, brother," he said menacingly, passing his hand in front of his face, taking the same exact look as the monkey. "She won't notice the difference."
And so he took his time, laughing on the way out, while the Destined One was screaming in rage.
///
He was surely taking his time, which was strange... Yuán Fèn never took too long for a solo scouting, especially when you both were in some desolated place like that forest.
Even Bajie hasn't returned yet. You started to get worried; they should have been back hours ago.
You were just packing your staff, ready to search for them, when the rustles of the leaves and a well-known tail calmed you down.
"Oh boy...you gave me a heart attack!"
The monkey in front of you smirked, coming down from the branch that was supporting him.
"Did I scare you? My bad..."
He leans himself on the tree, his eyes fixed at you. It was easy; he had done it countless times; the only difference was that every Bián huá before you was completely useless. You were the real deal there.
"Off, scare me! Of course! I Just...." You noticed the way that he was looking at you. It was different, from his usual way at least. "Do I...have something on my face?"
"Nah, just admiring the view."
You felt uncomfortable. You never felt uncomfortable, especially around him. Since when his eyes made you so nervous, aside from some really emotional situations? Maybe it was just you... Yeah probably!
"Sure..."
He chuckled. Were you always like this with the other monkey? Ah, it didn't surprise him that he fell hard. You were ready to be eaten...
"So! Ready to go?"
"Uh?"
"Silly One...the mission! We must go, remember?"
"But...Bajie isn't coming back. We can't just leave."
"Ah, I'm sure he's fine! Maybe he's even closer to the relic than us!"
Why did he say something like that? He and Bajie had left together; if Bajie had decided to head on, he would have said that, and why did you feel that way?
You felt something—a strange sensation. The first time you met Yuán Fèn back at the mountain, you felt like you were pulled to him; now you feel like...repulsed. You didn't feel safe...
Why were you acting in that way?
He noticed your reaction, finding you so helpless and adorable. You were so unsure... did you feel something was off? Oh gods, he hoped not; he really didn't want to get RID of such a potential one. He got closer, taking advantage of your confused state, giving you a small buffet on your cheek.
You jumped by this sudden action, gasping for the sudden move. He chuckled, putting his arm around your shoulder and literally dragging you away from the meadow.
"Came on, don't tell me that you don't trust me!"
"N-no no! I would never!"
"Then, let's go! The road is long and the day short!"
He hummed, a satisfied grin on his face, while you were fighting the urge to show him off of you and try to find Bajie by yourself. Instead, you gently lowered your head on his chest. He smiled, and his sharp nails started to scratch your head, caressing your hair.
"Don't be afraid; I'll protect you, remember?"
But you didn't care; you were listening, and something was absolutely wrong.
A few hours passed, and all this time you were obeying him, following him wherever he meant to go. You didn't know where you two were going; you didn't care ,what really motivated you was to understand.
Around, Yuán Fèn had always shown a silly side, an easy one, but it was different from this one. He knew how to separate seriousness from sillyness, and he had always this secure aura around him that made him him. Now he was...content? No, satisfied. He never looked like this, not even after he found one relic or some will; he had shown some excitement, but that face...it was his, and yet not.
But how? You did question him from time to time, and he seemed to know everything you knew!
"You okay down there?"
He takes you back to him, looking at you from behind his shoulder. Another strange thing, since he would have never left you behind without knowing that you were all right.
"Yes...yes, I was just..." You looked around, noticing then a brownish object at the base of a tree. "...Purple Lingzhi."
"Um? come again?" He stopped, looking at you, raising an eyebrow. You gulped, pointing at the small cluster of mushrooms.
"Well, Chen Loong, ask us to find some! Remember?"
He stayed silent, actually noticing the mushroom that was groowing a few feet away. He chukled, waving his hand like to apologize for the forgetfulness.
"Ah, my bad, my bad. I almost forgot!" He laughed, then started to pick the mushroom while you were reaching for that big fallen branch that you spotted a few feet away.
The Zodiac village was a bliss, no enemies, an easy way to obtain medicines...and completely hidden from every kind of eye. Last time Loong Chen had lamented that if you two brought more Purple Lingzhi to him, we would just get sick, and you and the monkey just laughed, thinking of getting nausea from that mushroom. Yuán Fèn should have known that because he was there.
That was the confirmation to your suspect: that monkey wasn't your monkey.
Slowly, you approached the impostor with the branch high in the air, ready to strike, but when your makeshift weapon fell on his head, the only thing that met was his iron grip on the wooden surface, which was cracking under the pressure. Hi sighed, slowly turning around to meet your terrified gaze with his own bored one.
"Really? It was going so well." He passed a hand in his hair, scratching his fur without thinking about your struggle to free the branch. "Okay...remember that all of this...it's your own fault."
You didn't have enough time to question; the branch was ripped from your own grip and smashed on your head. Before everything became silent, you saw his brown fur turning white and two gleamy eyes burning holes in your head.
///
Once you woke up, you found yourself with your head hurting so much that you wanted to throw up. When you tried to touch your head, you found yourself incapacitated by some ropes that circled your torso and bound your wrists together. Even breathing was hard when you had a muzzle in your mouth, stopping you to scream or talk correctly.
Pinicking, you tried to move, but your injured head stinged you and forced you to stop after a few attempts. You started to panic more when you heard footsteps coming from behind the tree where you were lying.
In front of you was a monkey, you guessed, but he was different. His fur was so white that it made him look more like a ghost; his long tail moved like a snake here and there. His piercing yellow eyes looked at you more like a nuisance than a captive that could suffer from a head trauma.
"I almost thought that I killed you. Well, better for me, it would be such a bother to wait for another Bián huá!"
He laughed it off, shrugging off the idea that he could have killed you. He tried to touch your face again, but you moved aside, disgusted. He seemed bored; he sat kneeled down in front of you, opting for a more civil way to discuss. As much as tied you up after knocking you down could be referred to as civil.
"Okay, listen up," he got closer. "I want to be nice and forgive you for your stunt. There, let's start from the beginning: I'm Liu'er Mihou! I was... well technically, I'm still the Six-Eared Macaque, just...a little broken!"
Your eyes widened after this information. No, he couldn't be! He was dead! Everybody knew that! Sun Wukong had killed him! But....broken?
"Lemme guess, I should be dead, uh? Well, I was... in some way...Wukong too, right? But here we are!" He laughed again; to him, it was just a normal conversation, like talking with a guest.
"Okay, let's talk business. As I said, I'm a little broken, but I can fix myself... but I need something that you and your friend have found."
He wanted the relic...but why?! You knew that could make someone stronger, but...
Wait...they said that the Macaque and Wukong were the reflections of each other...so if the relics were supposed to bring back the great sage...what could have happened if they were used for his shadow?
The thought made you shiver, and he saw it. You were intelligent; he liked that.
"So, you connected the dots, uh? ...good! Now we can tal-AHG!"
When his hand removed the muzzle, you took your chance to bite his hand so hard to draw some blood that you spilled immediately. He massaged his hand, acting more like he was bite by some mosquito, refusing to take you seriously again... In that moment, you felt the sharp sensation of his claw scoarching your face when his hand smacked you. The pain was so hard that you almost lost your breath, and the strength made you fall on your side, only to rise again when his hand grasped your jaw so hard that you felt your skull crush under it.
"You...have some guts; I like it...but I really don't want to rip off your jaw. So... I'll give one last chance. Help me or-"
"FUCK YOU, YOU PSYCHOPATH!"
This time, his eyes were beyond the simple annoyance. He had enough, and you didn't need to walk to come with him. Like before, you didn't even see the blow; you just heard the crack and the pain of your leg, now broken in two. Your scream was immediately strung in your mouth by his hand; he was far too annoyed by your antics, and he didn't have the intention to hear your cries either.
"See? All your fault. I don't have time for this, so..." Suddnely, he grabbed you by your hair, ignoring your cries and your lament, and your broken leg contorted in a sick angle.
"STOP! Let Me Go! PLEASE, YOU'RE HURTING ME!"
"Don't you dare complain; it's all your fault, you know? And please stop screaming; no one is coming to save you."
Suddenly, a rumble emerged from the depths of the forest, alongside a pair of red eyes and a giant mass of mussels and bristles black and strong as iron. The macaque had to lose the grip on your hair to not get invested by the fury of the boar, while the animal was able to grab you by the collar and start running faster than before.
"YOU DAMN PIG!"
You looked at that scary creature, realizing that you were never happier to see him than before. The voice of the macaque keeps echoing in the door, laughing.
"RUN AS MUCH AS YOU WANT DARLING; YOU WON'T ESCAPE ME FOR LONG!"
///
You gulped the wine in huge, big gulps, most likely to let the pain finally leave your body. Breaking up your leg was a kind of pain, but putting it together was the worst! Bajie massaged your shoulder, finishing to clean up your cheek.
"Easy, easy. You'll be able to walk for now."
You took a big breath only when you felt your leg stopping hurting. The blood started to flow again, causing a huge tingling, but it was better than before at least. You were lucky that Bajie was able to come in time; you were too afraid to think of what could have happened if you stayed longer with that monster.
"There...forgive me, Y/n I...UGH! I fell for his trap! ...I let him make this to you, and...hold on, where's the kid?!"
"I-I don't... I don't know." He helped you stand up, supporting you with his rifle. "I fear... I fear he had fallen too in one of his traps!"
"Damn, we can't stay here for too long. We must go before that...thing found us again!... What happened anyway?! Why did he attack you like this?!"
"I find out about his true identity..."
"YOU DID-" He almost dropped you but caught you immediately. "How?!"
"...promise to not freak out?"
"Hard to do, I'll try..."
"I felt it... I don't know how, but I did it! ....Am I crazy?"
At first, the pig seemed shocked... then started to laugh—a soft and kind laugh.
"No! No child! I think...you're a miracle! Back in the day, me and old Wukong needed the Buddha himself to find the truth about his true identity—and you just know! AH"
He patted your back gently and kindly. Your bond was able to defeat an ancient creature like the six-eared macaque—that was new!
"Now...we must move. Let's put that connection of yours to the test to find where that impostor had hidden the destiny done!"
And so he took his beast form, allowing you to take a seat on his back. You held on to his fur, hoping to be in time.
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@sleepydang @weaverworks @kishimiest @marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction
@riolu4 @angryvampire @s0rr3l @rootin-tootin-morgan @lightlumi
@cleverfeststarlight @anfie01 @tunadunanana @jeminiikrystal @jssy96
#black myth wukong#black myth wukong x reader#destined one#the destined one#destined one x reader#destined one x oc#sunwukong#sun wukong#wukong#sun wukong x reader#sun wukong x oc#sun wukong x y/n#wukong x oc#wukong x reader#wukong x y/n#jttw#jttw sun wukong#journey to the west#monkey king#the monkey king#monkeyking#liu er mihou#six eared macaque#x reader#reader insert#reader#female#fem reader#bajie#zhu bajie
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THIS POST CONTAINS DISCUSSION ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL LEAKS
i sadly saw the leaks of hazbin s2 and now a whole plotpoint is ruined for me, i can make sure if you are still saved from seeing them, this is my advice just take a couple days of social media ESPECIALLY of tiktok and wait until the leaks are removed from platforms because they are HEAVY leaks they arent just some simple conversations
how i found out is a gacha reaction video on youtube without ANY spoiler warnings, just dont watch upcoming reaction vids if you consume them people WILL take profit and make reactions, under the cut is the exact name of the video but im not going to type that here since its kinda on the nose and will give you a huge idea of what the leak is about
ALSO: i said under the cut that comments are a safe space to talk and discuss about the spoiler so do NOT look at them since they will showcase spoiler, so to make it clear hopefully
DO NOT LOOK IN THE COMMENTS IF YOU WANT TO STAY SPOILER FREE PLEASE <3
under the cut is discussion about one of the leaks so if you want to stay spoiler free i beg you do not read further
so about that leak..
i do not like it one bit, i am praying to god its fake because it is such a weird choice
because as we see in the leak rosie owns alastor's soul, that is heavily implied, and i myself do not like this choice
we can clearly see alastor does not like rosie and rosie only sees him as a pet and calls him so, this just ruins their whole dynamic for me
alastor and rosie seemed genuine friends and loved to spend time with one nother they were really cute, i thought alastor finally had somone he could lean on
so this
is all fake, all of alastor's moments that we thought were rare moments of his real joy, are fake.
rosie being happy that her best friend has returned from his 7 years disappearance to who knows where?
fake, she's just happy her pet is home to clean up her dirty work..
this also puts into perspective that alastor really does not have any real friends, niffty still always is on his leash so there is a power imbalance, husker probably hates him, vox hates him too and when they were friends i think alastor only was there for the entertainment or he saw him not as a friend anymore as soon as vox confessed
but i really do not like this.
i saw those two as a genuine friendship, married for tax benefits, queerplatonic, best friends for life, even lovers,
not as master/pet
they were cute together, alastor finally had someone he could trust and rosie had someone she could hangout with, gossiping together, rosie enables alastor and alastor enables rosie, maybe they were a bit transactional but you could clearly see they cared about eachother
in the leak we see a total different dynamic, alastor hates rosie and plays along with her, rosie takes delight in alastor's suffering and degrades him like calling him "pet" puts him in cages, uses him as a doll
this is the video i looked at:
im not shaming them this is just the internet but this clearly shows the leak without any sort of warning on the title, cover, or even in the description, i knew nothing about alastor's deal leaks so i had no idea this one would show leaks
as far as i know this the only gacha reaction up to this point where they react to leaks
but now, while i have been writing this post i have been thinking about it.
this is a fun twist i can say, nobody was seeing this coming this is an actual surprise
i can accept and deal with the fact that rosie is alastor's soulowner and maybe still find enjoyment in it, i mean i always love to see alastor suffer and him having 0 real friends is pretty funny (AND SAD)
but if you want to talk about the leaks here in the comments is a safe space to discuss, i can understand you would like to talk with someone about this revelation so come say hi in the comments if you want :D
UPDATE:
So have been thinking about the leak for a bit once i let it sink in
We saw the leak and it looks real (good animation that is hazbin hotel style and the voices are not ai or someone must have had a really good bot for that)
But just because we saw the leak doesn't mean we have context for it
I still am a full believer in the eve/roo theory even after this leak and have been pondering on this animatic
What if roo posessed or shapeshifted into rosie??
We know Alastor doesn't have a good relation with his soulowner and he seems to genuinely like rosie's company, he even bleats and his pupils dilate thats not something you can controle
So it makes no sense for it to be actually rosie
My theory is that roo wanted to be extra petty towards Alastor and decided to sing that song to him as rosie, because whats better than singing a song about owning their soul as their only real loyal best friend??
I know i'm just stretching at this point but i refuse to believe this without context and hazbin is already hella fucking complicated so this could fit
Anyways what do you think? You think this leak is real or fake, do you also not believe it or are you in denial? Lemme know i'm curious and love to trade theories! <3
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel season 2#hazbin hotel season 2 spoilers#hazbin hotel leaks#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel season 2 leaks#alastor#rosie#rosie hazbin hotel#radiorose
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