#i might not be very qualified to answer this and for SURE am just fucking around and finding out

[ifyoucandaniel]

You. Person. You like. Batman. How does one that exists in a country where comic books r ridiculously unaffordable understand the Batman world enough to read fanfiction of it.

…..i’m going to be so brave and vulnerable with you guys for a second here: i read fanfiction before i read the comics.

do i recommend? not really, however i had the same problem where it was too expensive to buy every single volume i needed to read to get into them, i didn’t have ANY idea of where to start, and i actually stumbled across the fanfiction before i really realized what i was getting into. initially i watched like,,, so many youtube’s on the chronological order of batman comics and very quickly realized there was so much i didn’t even know where to begin. however, now i either read them online through, ahem, illegal means, or i use the DC universe app and just read through the individual volumes! i know i’m going to be the worst batman fan ever when i say this, but since you’re so right and comics are ridiculously expensive and unattainable (seriously tracking down the issue where tim and kon meet for the first time was a pain in my ass), i say just read the fanfiction?? like it’s hella confusing at first, but it’s so worth it because the found family and the tropes are just so good. and a lot of fics are so AU they can be read with no knowledge of the DCU. i’m not saying DONT read the comics, but it can take AWHILE to catch up on all the content of the past like 80 years to understand every character and their story, and personally i was way too impatient to stop reading fics and start reading every comic connected to the batfam. but also, again, i did not realize what i was getting into until i was already hooked and confused as fuck, so maybe take it with a grain of salt :)

but for sure if you’re wanting to read the comics first (good choice, but lots of content and WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU START) i say read that shit online lol. if anyone has an easier way of accessing them, i am begging to hear it, but what i typically do is go to twitter or here and search what i’m looking for (like chronological order of young justice comics, or chronological reading order for tim drake, whatever i’m wanting to find) and then usually people have blessedly compiled a list of all the issues by name and number and i can find them online that way! figuring out where to start and what’s canon and what’s old stuff that they’ve decided doesn’t count anymore is,,,, rough. i still don’t always know what’s going on with what’s new 52 and what’s pre :’)

if you’re just wanting to know enough to get by with reading the fanfics, i say either just jump in and have a sink or swim moment where you just figure out what you don’t know and look it up on fandomwiki, or you can also like watch youtube’s of the characters entire story arcs?? i don’t know if that’s normal but i do that a lot for fandoms lol. i did the full sink or swim where i just completely figured things out through osmosis and was very confused for a BIT. ummm otherwise i’d say read a few comics that are central to the characters and? maybe read some wikis??? depends on how confused you wanna be lmfao

but it’s worth it!!! 100% the vibes are so good and i don’t think i’ve ever consumed more content for a fandom in like ever :D the characters and the tropes and the angst and the found family 🤌 it’s all very good and very worthwhile

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part III

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

III. Just what the world needs, Another Fucking Sunset Wedding

It’s almost sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Frank had been waiting for you to catch the shuttle to the wedding venue, dallying in the lobby pretending to look at an atrocious modern art print while keeping one eye on the hallway.

“You look nice,” he grumbles, taking in your white A-line sundress printed with big red roses.

“Thanks,” you say, admiring his navy blue suit unabashedly, since he brought it up first. “You look very handsome.”

This makes him stand up a little straighter, clearly not sure how to take the compliment, but you dare to think, he liked it.

When the shuttle drops you off at the base of the vineyard you look up the steep hill planted with curling grape vines in their nice neat rows with a sense of dread.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I am not wearing the right shoes for this.”

He looks down at your platform heels. “It said in the itinerary you’d have to walk up a hill.”

“Ok, but what was I supposed to wear? Hiking boots? The unfair standards of women’s dress clothes don’t allow for that.”

He holds out a hand, albeit begrudgingly. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

“I swear, these shoes are actually usually the sensible option.”

“Sure they are. Wearing anything that elevates your feet four inches off the ground is a sensible option.”

You sigh, and take his hand, trying to ignore the thrill running through your bones as you feel the strength in his fingers and his arm, as he helps propel you up the incline.

“I can’t believe they don’t have…stairs, or something? Did the old people have to do this?”

“Presumably not.”

“Then what the fuck?”

“Quite.”

Men’s dress shoes aren’t exactly made for rough terrain either, and at one point you both almost slip, clutching each other in a bid not to tumble back down the hill. It’s…nice, you have to admit, to be held close by this man.

He looks at you with wide eyes, for a moment for all the world appearing as though he’s drowning, before that thunderous frown appears. “Fuck this.”

You yip with surprise as he sweeps you up into his arms, and marches determinedly the rest of the way up the hill. Before you can even think about taking it as a romantic gesture, he practically drops you back to your feet at the top, releasing you as though you’d burned him.

You sit together in the back, as usual, though Frank very pointedly crosses his arms and is careful to keep a respectable amount of distance between you.

That shouldn’t make you feel sad, but it does.

The excruciatingly drawn-out bullshit Reception

“I used to like this song,” you muse, watching the dancers on the floor with an odd mixture of wistfulness and distaste. Keith dips his new bride, and a mean little part of you really wishes he would drop her.

“Do you…want to dance?”

Frank could have knocked you over with a feather, after how he’d behaved earlier. It definitely colors your answer, the knee-jerk impulse to push him away too.

“I said I used to like it.”

“Fine.”

Then, of course, you feel bad. And maybe you feel…a sliver of hope, however stupid.

“Why, do you want to dance?”

“Of course I don’t want to dance. It’s moronic and ridiculous. No one wants to fucking dance.” There is more venom in this statement, than perhaps the situation calls for.

After a moment, a bit softer and with a hint of apology, he qualifies, “I just thought it might take your mind off things.”

If you looked miserable, it’s ironic that for once, Keith was not the cause of it.

Perhaps this should send you running in the opposite direction too.

“Do you want to take a walk?” you ask instead.

He looks pointedly down at your questionable footwear, but you point at the basket behind you bearing what are professed by a whimsically written sign: Walking Shoes. They’re some kind of slide on deal that will do in a pinch. Honestly you’re willing to go bare foot, if it gets you out of that tent.

The meandering and pointless Walk

“You know, I was actually diagnosed with PTSD after the whole Keith thing?”

Frank snorts at that, the farthest reaction from sympathy he can manage. “Rich people’s PTSD.”

“I’m not rich.”

“Fine. Privileged.”

That’s probably true. Goddammit.

“Well…am I not allowed to have problems?”

“Sure, just no one wants to hear about them. Anyone who doesn’t have to worry about food, housing, or getting shot by the police should just keep it to themselves.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

He shrugs. “It’s not just you. No one should care about my problems either.”

“What if I care?”

He snorts. “Then I will feel even sorrier for you than I already do.”

“Ok, fine. Maybe not me specifically. But what if…say, you find someone else you actually like. Isn’t it ok to talk about your problems with friends?”

“Isn’t that a terrible thing to do to someone you like? Making friends or a significant other listen to your problems for free, when you should be paying a shrink for it?”

“It’s just a thing people do who are close to each other. They talk.”

“People who aren’t close too, apparently.” He says all this with a surprising amount of cheer in his tone, either enjoying himself, or the walk, or the view…or maybe even your company.  

He changes the subject as you round a bend. “So, are you glad you came to this thing? You made your show of strength, you’ve got your closure now that the knot is tied and they’re legally bound to be miserable together, and you’ve fled the scene with his half-brother, whom he despises, which the family surely will gossip about. You could almost chalk it as a win, if you squint just right.”

You huff, breathing a little heavy as you walk up a hill on the ridge the path follows. It truly is beautiful in the backcountry of the vineyard, rolling mountains planted with nice neat rows of green vines.

He makes a good point, but strangely…you don’t feel satisfied. “I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not sure how I feel,” you admit, pausing to incline your head up at him. He pauses too, looking down that straight nose at you, and he is standing very close. You fancy you sense him tense, as though about to take some great leap, and he looks at your mouth with something like consternation, when a god-awful yowling roar travels down the path at you.

You both turn to see a very big, very unhappy cat displaying its impressively large and sharp canines at you.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I think it’s a mountain lion.”

“What the fuck do we do?”

“I don’t know. We’re too far away, no one will hear us scream.”

“Is it a bobcat?”

“It’s not a fucking bobcat. Look at the tail.”

“You should run. It’s going to eat me anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m smaller and slower.”

“I wouldn’t presume about the last part.”

It roars again, and you clutch at his arm.

Suddenly Frank charges the thing, making that god-awful hissing sound from earlier with his finger in his ear. They both sound like demons from hell, and with shock you watch as the predator backs away.

“Now, we run,” says Frank, grabbing your hand and booking it down the hill.

You run what feels like a long way. Your legs are burning, and the stupid little slide-ons are not made for athletic activity. And the thing about running downhill is…sometimes gravity gets the best of you. Like now, when you trip over a rock, and take Frank with you. Suddenly you are both tumbling down a steep grassy incline, locked together in a death roll.

“Fuck!”

“Fuck!”

“Fuck!”

“Fuck!”

When at last you come to a stop you are utterly stunned. “Y/n?”

You just lie there, unable to move.

“Y/n?”

Are you even alive?

Suddenly, Frank grabs your arm, hauling you around. “Ah!”

He looks…so worried, that if he hadn’t wrenched your back, you would have been touched.

“I’m fine! Jesus!”

“Ok. Sorry.”

You lie there for another moment looking up at him. He has grass in his hair; it’s endearing somehow, seeing this put-together grouch of a man just a little undone.

“You saved me,” you tease, sitting up beside him.

“I saved us.”

“Yeah right. It would have eaten me anyway. Why’d you save me?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Just trying to spare myself the guilt.”

He reaches up to pluck grass out of your hair. His light touch gives you a thrill down your spine. Again, you are aware that you are very close, and his dark eyes have gone wide again, that slightly panicked look he gets. His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and you are completely taken by surprise when he grabs the back of your head and pulls you swiftly into a hard kiss.

He retreats from it just as quickly, and now he does look like he’s seen a ghost. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“I—”

Before you can say anything he’s grabbed you again, and this kiss is less forceful, though maybe no less desperate. You’re able to reach up to cup his cheeks before he shoves you away again, this time hard enough that you topple back in the grass.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” he pants again, looking for all the world like a horse that would like to bolt. “I don’t—it’s been a long time. Heat of the moment. Near death experience. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“How long?” you ask, incredulous. Because, this man is so…so. Fucking. Good looking. How has he not been with anyone?

He scowls at the grass. “I don’t think I’ve felt real pleasure since 2006.”

This admission makes your eyes go wide. You sincerely hope he’s exaggerating, but then again, the way he behaves towards people…maybe he’s not.

“It’s just…” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “If it all sucks, then fuck it, but if it doesn’t? Then there’s so much pressure.”

A part of you wants to snark at him. Well well well, welcome to the human race at last. But another part of you…another part of you just wants to kiss him senseless and fuck him silly, and make him feel all the things you’ve both been missing out on because he’s been such a goddamned coward this whole time and you’re not much better.

 Maybe he reads the pity on your face, because he feels the need to defend, “Not that I haven’t been with anyone. Just…”

“You weren’t that into it?”

He looks away, glaring at the world again. “Yeah.”

“It’s been a while for me too,” you admit.

“Please don’t say it was Keith,” he snarks. “I’ll kill myself.”

You laugh. “No, your brother was incredibly, monumentally selfish in bed. I literally could have had better sex with a lamppost.”

He looks at you sideways. “That really shouldn’t make me as happy as it does.”

Your lips twist as you try not to smile. Frank, however, is back to frowning at the vineyards again. “We can’t have sex right now. I don’t have any protection. It would be irresponsible.”

You’re a little amused, that his brain has leapt immediately to sex, while you are sitting in the dry grass together. Apparently just kissing was not enough—or maybe he’s been thinking about it for a while. You’d be a liar, if you said you haven’t.

“What if I said you’re in luck?”

“I would say that’s highly improbable.”

You feel bold enough to cup his cheek, bringing his attention back to you. It doesn’t take much persuading this time, when you press your lips to his. He kisses you back, his fingers digging into your ribcage, and you’re not really sure who’s more desperate to feel alive after defying death at the claws of a tiger or whatever the fuck that thing had been.

“That’s not helping,” he pants when you part.

“Why? Are you actually into it?”

He pulls you closer with hands on your waist. “Pretty into it,” he admits begrudgingly. You smile against his mouth, suddenly feeling electrified from head to toe. The colors of the world around you seem brighter, somehow. You take him by surprise when suddenly you straddle his waist, perching on his legs and pushing him back down into the grass, your pretty skirts spread around you.

“What—”

You unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, freeing him to the desert air. “Oh…” When you bend over to lick his tip and take him into your mouth you get an even more emphatic, “Oh…”

“What about now?” you ask him as you withdraw with a pop.

He blinks, for the first time since you’ve met, speechless. At least, for a few long moments.

“I think I’d like to be inside you.”

“How’s your health?”

“Fair to middling, for a man my age.” You give him a look, and damn if he doesn’t soften for you, even if just for a fleeting second. “Clean,” he answers quietly. “You?”

“Clean. And fully armed with IUD.”

He blinks. “Like they use to blow up humvees in the Middle East?”

You laugh, throwing your head back, your curls bouncing around your shoulders. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time. “Like, an intrauterine-device?”

“That definitely makes more sense.”

“Well?”

You watch as he licks his fingers, reaching under your dress to push your panties aside and find your center. The saliva is appreciated but not necessary. You are drenched, and his big fingers rubbing your clit feel like magic. “Is all that for me?” He sounds genuinely surprised, like this was a gift from the universe he did not expect to receive. Usually it’s more inclined to deliver a kick to the balls.

“Who else would it be for? The lynx?” He snorts, and in a softer tone you confess, “I have been a wet little mess for you since…the moment we started arguing in the airport.” He blinks at this, dumbstruck for a moment, before kissing you with an edge of desperation you both feel keenly in your bones.

He guides you onto him with his big hands on your buttocks. That feels like magic too, his thick tip at your entrance sinking in. It’s your turn to say, “Oh,” with your head thrown back, his big cock sliding deeper and deeper inside you, until he’s filled you to the hilt. For a moment you just sit like that together, joined, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It’s wonderful.

You imagine how ridiculous you must look, to an outsider looking in. Two people tangled in the dirt, grass in your hair, dust all over your nice clothes. You giggle a little to yourself.

“Something funny?”

“Just…do you ever think about how silly humans look, doing the things we do?”

“All the time.”

You laugh joyously, but you feel him withdrawing from you, that subtle tension returned in his limbs. You realize he thinks you’re making fun of him. It’s like this man expects he’ll have to defend himself from the world at any given moment. Then, from what he’s told you about his life, you guess he has. You don’t let him get too far, pulling him closer. “But fuck it feels glorious. I don’t care. Fuck me, Frank. I need you.”

 You feel him relax, and maybe even surrender. He moves for you, and you with him, his thumb on your button and his mouth on your neck as you ride him out…it’s the fastest you’ve ever orgasmed, with another person involved, that shining pleasure ambushing you in the cradle of your hips and spreading outwards. It’s almost embarrassing, except he’s right behind you, holding you almost desperately with arms locked around your waist, his face buried in the bend of your neck. Neither of you are quiet about it, your yells echoing across the empty hills.

“Oh my god…” you pant, resting your forehead against his.

“Can’t say…I believe much in god,” he informs you, out of breath.

“Me neither,” you admit. “But that was fucking fantastic.”

“Yeah. That was pretty damn good.” He sounds so surprised about it.

He kisses you, more softly this time. There is a long moment of eye contact between you; it is vulnerable, and electric, and raw. He is the first to look away, almost flinchingly. Then he focuses on the business of disentangling yourselves.

“I’m afraid we’re about to make a huge mess.”

“You don’t have a handkerchief?”

“What am I, a nineteenth century dandy?”

“Okay, relax, Romeo. I’ve got it.”

You rather cleverly, if you don’t say so yourself, use the petticoat of your dress to avoid staining his trousers as you uncouple, in a way that won’t leave you an embarrassing mess when you return to the tent either.

“I like that dress even more now,” he quips, looking at you with something almost akin to tenderness as you right yourselves. He reaches up to pull another sprig of straw out of your hair with a smirk.

“Frank…” You’re not really sure what you want to say. There’s a pent up ball of something in your chest, and it kind of actually hurts, and you’re not sure you like it at all.

“No,” he answers resolutely, but he cranes his neck down to kiss you anyway. “Want to go back to my room?”

“Yes.”

TBC...

-----------------

ahhhhh I didn't have the courage to make it as awkward as the movie 🤣🤣🤣 but I feel like I need to make a note here bc i'm always writing wildly irresponsible sex practices: always use protection with a new partner. It's just a good idea. And ALWAYS use some kind of birth control, or you WILL get pregnant. mother nature is a bitch.

[ftmsteveraglan]

big daddy (trans bear william afton x amab reader)

this one goes out to all the trans william enjoyers! i've been in desperate need of both big bear william and trans william, so here i am doing both. also, before anyone says anything, i know matthew lillard is on the skinnier end. this particular version is inspired by the fantastic fanart by keikoyume (not tagging her just in case she's not a fan of that!) because holy FUCK i'm feral for her rendition of him.

contains: dom william, trans bear william, sub reader, seriously the reader is submissive as shit, cunnilingus, under the desk shenanigans, daddy kink, praise kink, size difference, getting caught masturbating

you didn't know what you were getting into when you walked into the office.

it wasn't like you had anywhere else to go. your luck with your last job had run out after you'd cursed out your manager for scheduling you on a day you'd specifically asked to take off for a doctor's appointment. now, desperate with nowhere else to turn to, you'd decided to come to the job counseling office, hoping you'd find a solution.

the secretary called your number, and you jumped up to follow her into the back office. you weren't quite sure what to expect when you got there.

you didn't anticipate the man sitting before you.

even as you entered the room, you could feel his presence dominating the area. sitting before him, he loomed over you, even though he was sitting back in his chair. he had to be at least six feet tall, if not taller. he'd combed back his hair, dark brown and graying at the temples, in an attempt to look professional, but a dark part of you wanted to see how it would look unkempt and messy. he looked like he hadn't shaved in while, with a scruffy, salt and pepper beard on his chin.

no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't ignore was just how big everything about him was. broad shoulders, muscular arms, meaty hands, sizeable paunch; it was like every part of him was built to be domineering. you couldn't help but love just how much bigger he was than you, how strong he looked before you.

the nametag on his desk read "STEVE RAGLAN".

mr. raglan read through the papers in your file, humming as he flicked through the pages. he tsked, shaking his head, and said your name a few times, rolling it on his tongue. piercing eyes gazed through aviator glasses, over the pages, and straight through your soul with a look only a disappointed dad could make.

"care to explain what happened with your last job?" he asked, leaning back in the chair. you swallowed, trying to compose yourself, before talking.

"i cursed out my old manager," you said bluntly. "he scheduled me on a day i'd told him in advance that i needed off for a doctor's appointment. he wouldn't take no for an answer, so i swore at him and walked out."

mr. raglan hummed as he looked down at you over the file. "your previous jobs all have good things to say about you," he said, "but you haven't lasted at them for very long. what's that about?"

"i've been moving," you explained. "i've only now just settled down. i'm looking for something i can do to save up money so i can go back to college."

mr. raglan stayed quiet as he leafed through your file. he looked like he was about to say something, but stopped and raked his gaze over you. you tried not to squirm as his eyes moved down your body. you couldn't tell if he was checking you out or scrutinizing you.

"i might have a job for you," he said, setting your file on the desk. you perked up at the mention of a job, watching him as he got up from his desk and moved to the coffee machine at the back of the office. "want some?" he asked as he poured himself a mug.

"sure, thank you," you said with a nod. mr. raglan poured a second mug, and you took the opportunity to ogle him from where you sat. your eyes were drawn to his thick thighs, and you wondered just how big everything else of his was.

"normally, i'd try to find you a job somewhere else, at a place that fits your qualifications," mr. raglan said as he set your coffee before you. he sat back down in his chair, took a sip, and said, "but i've actually been looking for someone to fill a position around here."

curious, you drank your coffee and listened as he continued. "i'm looking for a personal assistant." with a nonchalant shrug, he explained, "it's nothing complicated, just keeping track of scheduling, sorting paperwork, things like that. pay's alright, $12 an hour." he sighed and said, "but, if you want, i can try to find you something more your speed-"

"i'll take it," you blurted out. mr. raglan looked down at you, one eyebrow raised. his expression looked more intrigued than anything.

"that was quick," he said with an amused smile. "you sure?"

"i'm sure," you nodded. such a job was perfect, both because the pay would be enough for rent with extra to spare and because you'd be able to hang around this mountain of a man just about every day. "when do i start?"

mr. raglan took another drink and sat his mug down on the table, resting his hands on his belly. "how does monday sound?"

you could feel yourself smiling as hopefulness set in. "monday sounds perfect."

that was where your relationship with mr. raglan had started. it started off strictly professional for the first few weeks. he'd shown you the ropes, and before long, you were handling his scheduling with ease. he eased you into further duties, nothing more than you could handle. it was simple busy work, and eventually, you'd established a routine which allowed you to get things done with time left to spare.

at first, mr. raglan was cordial towards you, letting you have your space as you did your job and elaborating on anything you didn't fully understand. however, over time, you swore that his attitude towards you was shifting. maybe his opinion of you had changed. maybe he'd always felt this way towards you, and his mask was slipping. either way, he started behaving differently whenever you were around. sometimes, when putting paperwork in the filing cabinets, you'd feel eyes on you, and when turning around, you'd find him shamelessly watching you, a dark look in his eye. it wasn't anything malicious or angry; it was more akin to a hungry wolf eager to pounce on an unsuspecting rabbit.

it wasn't like you were entirely innocent, either. but then again, who could blame you? mr. raglan was the effortless sort of handsome, the kind where he could simply roll out of bed and still be attractive. you couldn't help but sneak a few glances at him when he wasn't looking, though you were sure he'd caught you on more than one occasion. thankfully, he didn't ever mention it.

the tension between you two hung in the air for a while, the both of you refusing to mention it, until one day when you had to come in early. sundays were usually the day you deep cleaned his office, so you preferred to start the work day an hour earlier. you found it curious that mr. raglan's car was in the parking lot, but you brushed it off. maybe he wanted to get work done earlier, too.

it wasn't until you reached the door to his office that you realized something was up. you didn't know if your ears were deceiving you at first, but you could've sworn you could hear mr. raglan making noise on the other side of the door. the door was too thick for you to fully make out what it was. maybe he was just moving a few things around?

you should've expected what you saw on the other side, but you didn't know how to react when you opened the door to see your boss sitting in his chair with one hand down his boxers, groaning softly, a blissed out look on his face.

startled, you nearly stumbled over yourself trying to back away, closing the door, but mr. raglan had already noticed you there. rather than lashing out, however, he opened his eyes halfway and lazily turned his head over to look at you. his eyes had grown dark with lust, his cheeks flushed with color. as alluring as he looked like this, the last thing you wanted was to get fired because you walked in on your boss jerking off.

"i-i am so sorry, sir," you quickly said as your eye met his. "i'll just-"

to your surprise, mr. raglan didn't seem upset. he just chuckled, shook his head, and said, "no, no, no, come on in, sit down."

unsure of what else to do, you stepped into his office and shut the door behind you. you started moving to one of the filing cabinets, hoping to get started on work, but mr. raglan spoke up, "you don't need to worry about that right now. sit down."

swallowing your nervousness did nothing to quell the simmering in the pit of your stomach as you took your seat in front of him. his soft groaning and the sound of wet squelching from beneath the desk sounded incredibly loud in the morning quiet.

"normally," mr. raglan said, "i take care of this before you come in for your shift." he laughed and said, "i guess i got a little carried away."

you weren't sure how to respond yet. as hot as you found it to walk in on your boss getting off, you didn't want to overstep any boundaries, so you said, "i can just go if you wanna... you know... finish that up."

now, mr. raglan met your eye, and his face filled with that same dark, hungry look he'd been giving you for the past weeks.

"actually," he said, "i could use a little help right about now."

your eyes widened, unable to believe what you were hearing as he said, "don't think that i haven't noticed. i saw the way you were looking at me when we first met, the little looks you've been sneaking. you're not as subtle as you think, sweetheart." the last word dripped from his lips like a snake's venom. "don't act like you don't want this as much as i do."

you weren't about to lie to yourself. rather than try to formulate some excuse, you instead asked, "what do you mean?"

mr. raglan laughed and raised an eyebrow. "i offered you this job for a reason," he said. "i mean, i've been hunting for someone to fill this position, but i couldn't just pass you up."

you couldn't decide if you were more embarrassed or turned on at the realization. either way, you weren't about to let this opportunity slide. "you said you needed help, sir?"

a wolfish grin spread across mr. raglan's face. "just need some help finishing what i started," he said, pushing his rolling chair back from the desk a bit. peering over the desk, you could see that his pants were down below his knees, and a large wet patch had spread over his boxers. he motioned you to come to him, and you nearly tripped over yourself moving around behind the desk with him.

"there we go," mr. raglan cooed. "that's a good boy..."

mr. raglan calling you a good boy in that scratchy voice of his made your stomach do flip flops. he seemed to notice how flustered you were, because he chuckled as he finally pulled down his boxers.

"right down here, that's it," mr. raglan said, spreading his legs apart. you quickly got down on your knees between mr. raglan's legs. you were a little surprised to find that he had a soaking wet pussy rather than a cock, but you weren't put off by it. it just meant changing tactics.

cautiously, you slipped one finger into his folds, then two, pumping them in and out. mr. raglan let out a satisfied sigh above you, relaxing in his chair as you experimentally played with his hole. you moved your other hand up and circled his tdick with your thumb, which made mr. raglan groan and grip onto the arms of his chair. you could feel him getting wetter and wetter under your touch, which filled you with an odd sense of pride.

"does that feel good, sir?" you asked him.

"you don't have to call me sir, baby," mr. raglan chuckled. "no need to be so formal."

an embarrassing idea flashed through your mind, but you figured you had nothing to lose in your position. "can i eat you out? please?"

mr. raglan let out something between a huff and a laugh as he nodded. "go ahead, baby. i'm all yours."

you quickly moved your hands to grip his thighs and dove in, running your tongue up his slit. mr. raglan let out a low, throaty groan and let his head fall back. his breath came in huffs as you lapped at his slit, eager to taste him. you could feel his thighs tensing beneath your grip, hear the squeaking of leather as his fingers dug into his armrest even tighter.

"fuck, you taste so good, daddy," you whimpered as you ate him out. mr. raglan tilted his head down, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd accidentally offended him or said something dumb.

but then, mr. raglan chuckled, something dark and hungry, and moved one hand to sink his fingers into your hair, almost petting you like an obedient dog.

"that's it, sweet boy," he purred, gently scratching your scalp. "eat daddy's pussy for me, that's a good boy..."

his praise only made you even more eager as you went from simply drinking up his slick to tonguefucking him, trying to reach your tongue as deeply as possible into his hole. mr. raglan started to eagerly buck his hips into your mouth. you could just tell that he was getting close. eager to make him cum, you moved your mouth from his hole to his tdick, wrapping your lips around it and sucking hard, making mr. raglan gasp sharply. he swore and cursed under his breath as you ran your tongue along his cock, muttering, "fuck, baby, i'm so close..."

your jaw was starting to ache from working at mr. raglan's pussy, but you didn't care. you wanted to see this much bigger man fall apart on your lips. you moved one hand from his thigh to his hole, eagerly fingering him in time with sucking on his clit. that seemed to do him in, and mr. raglan tugged your hair to bring your face deeper into his pussy as he came, clenching his big thighs around your head.

for a moment, you couldn't breathe, suffocated by his pussy. eventually, his thighs fell away from your head, leaving you free to lift your head and breathe again. you could hear mr. raglan chuckling as he moved his hand from your scalp to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"you did such a good job, baby," he cooed, running his thumb along your cheek. his chuckle grew to a laugh as he said, "you really made a mess of me, didn't you?"

he moved his hand to pat his thigh, motioning for you to climb up. you swiftly got up and straddled his thigh, and mr. raglan leaned in to kiss you, moaning as he tasted himself on your lips.

"looks like you enjoyed this as much as i did," he murmured, bringing his hand down to your crotch to palm your half hard cock through your pants. embarrassed, you turned your head away, but mr. raglan laughed and said, "it's alright, baby. i think it's adorable."

he wrapped one strong arm around you and pulled you in for a half hug. you leaned into the hug, laying against him, resting one hand on his belly as you regained your composure.

"you know," he said, his voice low and husky, "if you help me clean this up, and if you do a good job the rest of your shift, we can keep this going once our shifts are over."

your eyes widened as you looked back to him and stammered, "a-are you sure?"

there was that look in mr. raglan's eyes again, that dark, possessive look, a look that said you'd just walked right into his trap.

"why not, baby?" he asked. "it'll just be the two of us once everyone else goes home."

as much as you knew that a romance with your boss probably wasn't the best idea, there was no way in hell you would turn this down. "god, yes. thank you, sir."

mr. raglan smirked and raised an eyebrow. "i told you, you don't have to call me sir."

your cheeks flushed pink as you realized your mistake. "thank you, daddy."

mr. raglan grinned and gently kissed your cheek, his beard scratching against your skin. "good boy."

[intheorangebedroom]

Hi Maddie! I hope you are having a wonderful September and you are enjoying the start of autumn. This might sound obsessed or weird, but PTMY and TYBTM are seriously some of my favorite things I've ever read... ever, like I'm putting it up there with novels I've read. It is insane to me how much talent there is in this fandom. Like the Pedro girlies are literal authors, putting out works of art. For me, you are the best of the best! Obviously, both stories have me very hot and bothered lol, but it's just the way you write intimacy and relationships, the peculiarities of your characters and the world's they inhabit so brilliantly, beautifully. I'm sure you know that at times you write like it is poetry! It is so immersive and I love it deeply. My question (apologies in advance) is about writing. I was wondering if you have any tips on (a) how you have improved as a writer, like in terms of how you've been to find your style? (b) how to overcome perfectionism? I've been wanting to take a crack at some Frankie ideas I've had, but I get so weighed down by self doubt and inertia. And also, I worry it's just not original enough. Okay, sorry for the rant! I will never be as good as you OBVIOUSLY lol, but for you I am grateful. I'm so excited for the next part of TYBTM and sad we are almost halfway to the end. I'm so excited for whatever you have in store for the future. Sending you so much love and hope you're having a great day.

Hey Nonnie 🧡

I apologise in advance for the length of this answer. 

Your kindness, your generosity and your time mean everything to me. I’m the worst at expressing gratitude when I’m paid a compliment. "Compliment" doesn't cut it to qualify what you said about my stories, it’s too much, it’s so incredibly kind. You made me so soft but also so much stronger. Thank you 🧡 My first impulse upon reading your message was to throw away my phone and scream I’VE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK I’M DOING but I owe it to you to at least try to answer you. Also do you need some blood? A kidney? I have two. You name it it's yours.

I would like to start with the second part of your question, if you don’t mind. 

I have never ever thought any given piece I wrote to be perfect. At best, I think it’s not that bad, but that’s when I read it again a month after posting, because at the time I post it, it’s more like omfg if I read that shit one more time I’m gonna stab myself in the eye.” 

But life is too short for perfectionism. I’m sorry to be speaking like an old fart, but it is. You blink and it’s over. If you have a milligram of creativity in you, do not hesitate. Channel it. Create what you want, what you like. I’m serious. DO IT. Enjoy doing it. 

Self-doubt is a fucking bag of dicks. I’m riddled with it. In every corner of my existence. Every step of the way. Every word I type (not in my mother tongue…). How many times have I wanted to give up, especially during PTMY. The current tybtm chapter has fucking killed me dead. I hate it. It’s not good. Bad. But I’m forty fucking five years old and I’ll be damned if I let self-doubt and fear prevent me from achieving what I set out to do.

When I came back to tumblr in 2020, I saw numerous posts saying “you write for yourself first,” and I did not really understand what they meant. It’s nice to have an audience! It’s nice to be liked and validated! It’s nice to connect with people over something you’ve created. Musicians play live, and get a hell of a kick out of it, right? Why not us, writers? And one day, I think at the beginning of tybtm, it hit me. I understood. Fuck yeah I’m doing this for me. Because I need it. I need to tell this story. I need the satisfaction of having done it. The entire process makes me both incandescently happy and abysmally miserable, and you know what? That’s the fucking spice of life. I want both. I am alive when I write. Through the pleasure and the pain. So if you need it too, well, go for it. Don't let anyone, including you, tell you you're not good enough. Got for it.

There are 99% of chances that what you’re gonna write has already been written. So what? It hasn’t been written by you. No one sees people, life, or Frankie the way you do. Even if you write an age-old trope, even if you write the same trope over and over again in every story (me!), you’ll still bring your own precious singularity to the story, the characters, and the narration. That’s worth EVERYTHING. Please trust me. Maybe no one will like it. Maybe every one will like it. Whatever. At the end of the day, you still did what you set your heart on. I cannot stress enough how important this is. Carpe diem, baby.

Then, how did I improve as a writer, oh Nonnie, I’ve no idea. I don’t think I’m any good. I don’t think I am legitimate to give you any advice. 49.5% of the time, I think I’m too much (too gothic, too lyrical, too big with the feelings and emotions). 49.5% of the time, I think I’m not enough (not precise, concise, clear, good enough). But alright, I’ll try. For you. But please bear in mind I say all this in the most humble spirit.  

I write. All the time. In my head, in the shower, walking in the street, driving, aaaaaall the time. And then I type it down in a doc. And edit it and revise it again and again and again, until it feels smoother and/or I want to puke at the thought of having to go through it again. 

I try to take my time without panicking. If I’m stuck or in a bad mental place, I try to let it rest a bit.

My first year at uni, I studied screenplay writing. I would be unable to tell you precisely what I learned, but I think some of it is ingrained? In terms of conveying intentions through actions and dialogues (I know I tend to write pages and pages of introspection, and I swear I try to restrain myself, even if it doesn’t always translate to the doc).

Then, I’m an art vampire. I soak up everything I can, especially painting, music, and movies. I let it inspire me. I take notes on my feelings, fleeting emotions that I can’t articulate at first, and reflect and work on them until they become fully formed ideas I can inject in the writing. 

I read. A lot. And sometimes not at all when it feeds the self-doubt (comparison, you bitch!). I wait until I feel better, stronger. It may take time. 

With books/fanfics and movies, I analyse the narrative process employed. What I liked or disliked, what moved me, what didn’t. I take notes. To that effect, you can read reblogs of your favourite fics! Sometimes people reblog with some pretty neat analyses, just soak it up!

My obsession is finding the Right Word. I can spend days on the quest. A thesaurus helps. And sometimes it doesn’t. I also read my stuff out loud, because I like when it has a certain rhythm. And when the meaning of a sentence doesn’t work in a rhythm, I rework it tirelessly until it does. Fun times... 

I want to say that if you take the leap and start writing, after a while, you will feel instinctually what works for you. What feels right in terms of personal style. Maybe at the beginning you'll subconsciously write like someone else, but with practice and patience, your style will come out. If you need someone to cheer you on, I'm here.

Oh yeah because, very important, I whine to the very good angel friends in my phone whenever I’m stuck (they will recognise themselves if they read this)(okay they are @dreamymyrrh and @pedrit0-pascalit0). I forfeit all dignity and beg them for virtual hugs. I don't know what I did to deserve them.

And lastly, I have been privileged to witness the genius of Kelli ( @frannyzooey ) in the works and wow. She's it for me. Everything she writes resonates with me, so I just soak. it. up.  

So yeah. to sum it up: carpe diem and be a vampire 🦇

Hope that helps 🧡

I’m also gonna leave that here: 

Claire ( @just-here-for-the-moment ) is one of the best people I’ve been fortunate enough to meet here. She’s patient, sweet, kind, and SO FUCKING SMART. Don't be afraid to reach out.

Nonnie, again, I'm so sorry this is so long. I sincerely hope you'll find something useful in all this gibberish. If not, come back to my ask box with any question. And again, thank you 🧡 From the bottom of my broken vampire heart, thank you 🧡

[deadweight-at7am]

Are we in the French Revolution Season of America? Well, we should have been decades ago.

I have a migraine and can't sleep so let me yap about insurance for a bit.

Everyone's heard the UHC CEO was shot dead in NYC. And I'm sure most people are like "yeah, and?" Indeed. I have a unique perspective on this because I work in healthcare, specifically healthcare admin and my actual specialty is fighting claim denials on behalf of my company. I am unusually qualified to have opinions on this. I know quite a bit more about it than the average joe.

United Health Group is a notorious ghoul in the healthcare world, specifically behavioral health (mental health). It surprises me how many people don't understand what I mean when I say "behavioral health". We're talking psych. UHC's vendor for behavioral health is called Optum. Not many people know this but you can have Blue Cross and Blue Shield insurance, but your behavioral health benefits can be taken care of by Optum. This is called a "carve out". Insurance companies do this for... God knows why (cost? savings? something to do with saving a buck I'm sure) but it surprises patients time and time again. It doesn't happen super often but it does happen. And what that means is that you have to find providers that take Optum/UHC even though your main insurance is BCBS/Cigna/Aetna/Whatever. Behavioral Health is it's own little special world in the insurance marketplace and it's... sometimes very poorly run and very mismanaged. I work in psych and this isn't my first job working in psychology - so I have a LOT of experience here. When I tell you that Optum is one of the WORST and most predatory behavioral health payors I've ever encountered, I kid you not. The only other tragic fucking mess I've seen that rivals UHC is Cigna's BH group called Evernorth. Oh my god, don't ever try to get any answers at Evernorth - no one there knows how a fucking thing works.

So anyway, what UHC likes to do with patients that get therapy is they will see that a patient is costing them a lot of money - you know, actually using the benefits they pay premiums for. They'll then decide that this can't continue and they'll stop paying for services until the provider that is doing them undergoes a "Medical Records Review". What that means politely is that they think you're over-using their benefit and they don't want to pay for this service, so you now have to prove that you need it. This is usually a taske the provider must do. Our providers must write an appeal and submit the patient's records for review to UHC. You might think "so what? submit the paperwork". Not so fast. The process is not cut and dry. You have to write the review, which is time the provider isn't being paid for. They must then give it to someone (me) or fax the paperwork themselves, while also compiling their medical records which usually means months worth of notes. This means in our practice that we must have a medical records person submit the documents to our boss, who then signs off on them after proofing them - this is so the records meet requirements medically. Then we have to compile, sort and fax the paperwork and then we get to track it. Meanwhile, the payments for the service stop. UHC does not continue to pay for services while a review is in process. You just have to assume it will work out. Our success rate with these reviews is low, something like 40%... so our providers often just opt not to do them. When I tell you it doesn't matter what the provider writes in the review or who does it, I mean it. We have a Harvard trained Psychologist who sees patients for talk therapy and knows all the specifics. She wrote one of these for a patient, gave it to me, I sent it, tracked it, etc. It was magically approved (one of the only successes I've personally seen) and then 6 months later they did it AGAIN and this time our Psych was like "I'm not doing this anymore, we've proven she needs the therapy, her situation hasn't magically changed in 6 months!" The patient had complex issues that definitely required therapy and pharmacological intervention. I also get calls from Optum, about 1-2 a month wherein a doctor will call us and say they're from Optum and they're stopping services because X, Y, Z. They'll say that the diagnosis doesn't require the amount of visits that the patient has had and I can't argue with them - I just note it and relay the message. Every single Psychologist in our practice hates UHC. Whenever the email I write contains the word "Optum" or "Denial" the providers tell me they don't even want to read them LOL I do not get the same kind of denials from any other insurer, JUST Optum. That tells you something. There is no insurance company I like, to be frank, but if you asked me who I hated the most it's Optum. And the funny thing is that our healthcare through my job is UHC (but I can't afford it). The benefits are outrageously expensive and have high deductibles. Count me out.

That was a lot of words to say that their processes are in place to make things hard on providers and on patients. They want it to be difficult, confusing and nearly impossible to navigate. They bank on you not knowing anything - so the best thing to do is know AS MUCH as you possibly can. What I described here is the main reason why I can not work for an insurance company or become a broker, I do not like or want to sell anyone any of it. I hate insurance and I think it's all a huge scam.

An insurance company's first priority is to keep profit margins high. It is not to help provide excellent care. It's not patient satisfaction. You give them money and they aim to keep it. That's it. So, a CEO is most definitely in charge of helping to keep that company profitable. Insurance companies make BILLIONS - yes, BILLIONS of dollars - a year. They're not "just scraping by".

My number one concern has ALWAYS been single payer healthcare in the US and I have never quite figured out why people are so against the idea. I know why greedy companies don't want it to happen and all I can assume is that the lobbying against it and spreading of misinformation and fear mongering is the reason it's gotten in to so many people's heads that it's "bad". Look around you, does it seem like anything is working well the way it is?

[jbbartram-illu]

I have a question! Or more like, asking for your opinion. There's this studio I went to last year to learn some throwing, and I love it, and I want to do more, but I've been /very/ disappointed with the glazes... It's the first studio I went to regularly, but I've done a lot of sculpting before, and never with such results. It seems to mostly be with the clear glaze : bubbles, pile ups forming and going milky white, slip shifting and slipping under it during the firering... I'm sure I fucked up the application on at least some of them, but some other were glazed by the studio owner herself, and I'm not the only one this happened to. I'm thinking the clear glaze is shit, but I also worry the slips are poor quality too. It is a budget to go back there, and it would give me access to a kiln but I don't know anymore... I worry the studio owner's glazes and slip are just shitty? Did you ever have issues that seemed to be localized to one place / one specific glaze, or maybe I'm just being a bit paranoied because I'm sad my pieces didnt come out as I would've wanted them to?

Hmm, this is an interesting one ! I don't feel 100% qualified to answer this, as I'm very much at the beginning of my glaze-journey (& currently only use pints of ready-to-use glaze, as I don't have the know-how or space to mix my own), but it does sound like something might be going on?

There are definitely a lot of chances for glazes to get weird, whether the issue is application, the quality/specific mix of the glaze in question, or the many variables inherent in firing pieces, and it might be best to find a polite way to ask the studio owner what she thinks happened?

I generally find potters (who tend to be VERY used to things going topsy-turvy since ceramics is such a weird, almost alchemical practice even for people who know what they're doing!) are happy to troubleshoot/get into why a specific thing might be happening (honestly if there was bubbling I'm surprised the studio owner didn't talk to you about it already, as that's definitely an issue with either the glaze or the firing).

Again, I'm still very much a beginner when it comes to the world of glaze troubleshooting, but from this brief description it does sound like something is going on & is worth at least asking about in a 'hey I'm just curious as to why this happened since I want to learn more about the glaze/firing process' way!

P.S: I'm still working on answering all your lovely asks! I had to put everything but pottery aside for a sec so I could get one more little batch into the kiln this Friday, but am looking forward to getting back to my inbox now, as there are some really fun Qs in there :)

[non-plutonian-druid]

Sex repulsed asexual AFABs, birth control, and "what the fuck am i supposed to do about that anyway?"

This isnt going to be answering that question. because i dont have one, and also im not even a little qualified to answer it. I'm just going to be talking about a gaping hole in every single resource I've ever seen about reproductive health, and why it bothers me that the hole is there.

(I dont talk on my blog much, and when I do its not usually serious or TMI, but hi there! this is serious. and maybe TMI.)

So first of all, for those of you in the audience who are not sex repulsed asexual AFABs, I'm going to walk you through the experience of reading resources on birth control when you are one.

You read a pamphlet or an article or a blog post about the options that exist for birth control. This is already a privilege, because many AFAB people have little or no access to any information about their own reproductive health. The pamphlet or article or blog post talks about birth control pills, or getting an IUD, the arm implant, patches, and so on. You say, "Cool. Is this something I need to worry about at all?" The pamphlet or article or blog post does not answer because the pamphlet or article or blog post is written with the assumption that all of the people reading it will ever be in a situation where they would have sex willingly. Possibly in situations where they would have sex willingly, lots of times. And you never, ever will.

So you're kinda left to just.... guess?

Should you do some kind of birth control even though it costs money, and hormonal birth control changes your hormones (a minor change to your body, but still a change to your body), and might even involve surgery, when you're not even going to want to have sex, just because it's physically possible to get pregnant? That's probably safest, but it feels like a waste. Should you ignore it entirely because it's not going to apply to you of your own free will? Seems a little risky but why would you live your life wearing a bicycle helmet in case someone forces you to ride a bicycle? Is there some kind of in between?

I dunno. I don't have an answer. I don't think the medical community has one, because I don't think the medical community, as a force, realizes that there are people that exist who will never ever want to have sex. And thats like... a problem?

It's not even only sex repulsed asexual AFABs who this applies to. That's just the Most Emblematic demographic that I picked out, mostly because I am one. There are asexuals who aren't sex repulsed who would still never have sex, and there are people who aren't asexual who are still sex repulsed, or who for one reason or another don't ever want to have sex.

Individual medical practitioners would probably answer this question if you asked them, but WHAT would they answer, and would their answers really be based on what is best for people who are never going to have sex, or just what everyone else should do because "yeah they might change their mind", or whatever their own personal best judgement is?

Let me give you a hint: i am pretty sure that zero research has been done on the best way for sex repulsed asexual AFABs to engage with birth control that balances both practicality and risk of pregnancy, so it CANNOT be the first one. Research about what the first one even is doesn't exist.

So like what do we do!! There might be a very simple answer. But we don't know what it is!! Even over the course of writing this, I've swung wildly between "it's smartest to just bite the bullet" and "no why would you when sex isn't even something you do ever?"And the places I'm supposed to go to get reliable information can't help me because they don't know I exist.

And this brings me to the more emotional, less practical section of my essay-rant, because the thing that I've been dancing around this whole time, which you might have picked up on, is the fact that the only time birth control for us would ever be useful is in case of rape.

Any birth control that you give to someone who can get pregnant but would never ever have sex willingly is in case of rape. If its a pill, they're taking the pill every day and every day it's because someone might rape them. If they're getting something surgically implanted, they're having that surgery to prevent pregnancy if someone rapes them. And for no other reason.

Hey, making decisions about the internal pieces of your body literally only because someone might rape you... sucks! it sucks to be thinking about and it is the ONLY thing for us to be thinking about. Other people who take birth control... it would protect them in case of rape but at least usually for them its intended purpose is for sex they want.

Thinking about birth control when all you would use it for is rape blows lol

[artzychic27]

Family Guy incorrect quotes?

Nathaniel: Hi, my name’s Nathaniel Kurtzberg. My mom’s car just broke down. Could we use your phone?

Adrien: Now my trouble are all through… I have… A… Jew…

Nathaniel: Hey!

—

Denise: Fine, I’ll do it tomorrow right after my job as a zoo keeper with very muscular thighs.

*Cue cutaway!*

Denise: Thigh there, nice to see you all! Now as you can see right here, *Gestures to their right thigh* and here *Gestures to their left thigh* I am qualified to be a zoo keeper. *Gestures to a parrot* This is my friend, Frederick, and I am sure you’re all wondering how much I can squat. For that answer, you’ll have to go to my Instagram, YourThighness99. Now, I’d like to open up the floor for questions.

Rose: *Raises hand* Yes, what food does the bird-

Denise: Not about the bird! Now, who wants to see me jump over this fence from a standing start? Lemme scooch these shorts up a little thigher. *Rolls their shorts up and jumps over the fence*

Parrot: So, everyone happy they went to the zoo? No? Well, that’s the zoo.

—

Ivan: Alright, so we roll the dice, and then we both have to yell ‘Yahtzee’ really loud.

Kim: At the same time?

Ivan: Yeah, and you have to flap your wrists like this. *Flaps his wrists*

Kim: And you’ll do it, too?

Ivan: Of course, that’s how it’s done.

Kim: Okay.

Ivan: Alright, ready?

Kim: And you’re gonna do it with me?

Ivan: Oh yeah. *Rolls the dice*

Kim: *Flaps his wrists* YAHTZEE!

Ivan: Gay.

Kim: You suck!

—

Félix: Ello, I’d like to join the Air Force.

Pilot: What are your qualifications?

Félix: I speak in a British accent, I don’t brush my teeth, I’m possibly homosexual, and my wife is ghastly!

Pilot: *Gives Félix and aviator helmet* Bombs away!

—

Kim: Hey, Ismael. How about I teach you how to swim?

Ismael: Go... away... Kim. *Kim picks him up* Aah! What do you think you're doing? No means no! *He hangs on Kim’s arm while Kim tries to get him in the pool*

Kim: Come on, Ismael! In... the... pool!

Ismael: No! No, I don't want to die! I want to live! Live!

—

Marc: *Holds a crushed spider web in his fist* This is the most perfectly destroyed spider web.

Austin A: Where's the spider?

Marc: Knock, knock!

Austin A: Who's there?

Marc: I ate him!

—

Tom: But you know, I was just thinking this afternoon, what the hell happened to the days when a guy does something like that to a girl, and a bunch of us guy get together and just go kick his fucking ass?

Roger: Boy, that’d be satisfying.

Alim: Well… Why not?

—

Ismael: Come on, Jean! You owe me! You remember what I did for you last week?

*Last week*

Jean: *Singing* Sighing softly to the river comes the loving breeze. Setting nature all aquiver rustling through the trees.

Ismael: *Ballerina walks out from behind a tree* Through the trees…

—

Ismael: You watch that tone, Austin Q! Or I’ll get Zoé and Cosette over here to kick your butt!

Zoé: Is there a problem here?

Cosette: Yeah, you need us to use our fists?

—

Kim: Max, there’s a message in my alphabet soup! It says “oooooo”.

Max: Kim, those are Cheerios

—

Jean: I wish I was Beyoncé.

—

Ismael: So, anyway, here's Jean walking through the park minding his own business. I just happened to be there with my video camera, when a ninja shows up!

*In the video, Simon, dressed in a ninja costume leaps out from behind a tree and pretends to attack Jean with a katana before cartwheeling away*

Ismael: And then a devil came!

*Marc in a devil costume jabs Jean with his pitchfork, throws black dust at him, and runs off while Jean falls to the ground as if in pain*

Ismael: And then an evil pots-and-pans robot!

*Then Ismael wearing a bunch of pots and pans on his body arrives and fires at Jean with a fake ray gun*

Ismael in video: Destroy. Destroy. *Jean falls to the ground, seemingly unconscious*

Ismael: I imagine you're probably wondering what happened to the body... Well, we thought of that.

*Ismael runs back behind the camera and continues filming*

Ismael in video: Oh, no, Jean is dead! Wait. We might still be able to save... Oh, no! *Hums the Jurassic Park theme as he puts a toy dinosaur in front of the camera and has it pretend to eat Jean*

*The video cuts off and Ismael turns to Austin T with a solemn expression*

Ismael: We are so, so sorry for your loss.

Austin T: Is this a joke?

Ismael: I wish it were, Austin T. I wish it were a joke. But these things happen, you know? You go for a walk in the park one day and redhead ninjas and gay devils, and short pots-and-pans robots show up to kill you, and dinosaurs show up to eat the remains. You've seen the news.

—

Lila: Hello. As you all know, I’m Lila Rossi.

Marinette: Booo. Boo, Lila Rossi. Boo.

Lila: I wanna read a few words-

Marinette: Boo. Liar. Boo, Lila Rossi, booo…

Lila: Anyway, I want to-

Marinette: Boo. Apologize somewhere else. Boo. Boo, Lila, boo.

—

Nathaniel: *After he and Cosette have fought and horribly injured a mob of students* It was… A joke!

—

Denise/Cosette/Alya/Max/Nino/Austin B: *Sitting on a sofa and crying as a woman sitting in front of them stirs her tea*

Max: It was a trap.

Austin B: Everything on Groupon is just a trick to Get Out black people.

*They all sink into the couch*

Cosette: Ahh, we’re sinking!

—

Nino: And now to throw this handful of change down, because I’m a psychopath. *Throws change off the side of the building*

Austin Q: Aah! Damn it!

Ismael: Thank you!

—

Rooster Bold: Who the hell are you? Go away!

Nino: Oh, I’m sorry, are you taking a rooster shit?

Rooster Bold: I’m not defecating, you weirdo! I’m laying an egg! *Lays a golden egg*

Nino: *Gasps* A golden egg! This is what famous black rappers probably eat for breakfast!

—

Austin A: Well, you can’t have my rooster!

Rooster Bold: Okay, two men fighting over me. Neat.

—

Lawyer: Your honor, citizens of Paris, and visitors from AU Paris, my client, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir, is the victim of flagrant intellectual theft.

Canon!Kim: *Whispers to Canon!Max* I’m whispering in court to look smart.

Lawyer: But it’s not just the main writing that’s been plagiarized. Several other show variations, scripts, and design elements have been similarly infringed, resulting again and again in pale imitations, cheap copies, clumsy counterfeits, and weak substitutions.

Canon!Marinette: You like stalking boys?

SB&IB!Marinette: … Never talk to me again.

Canon!Marinette: I don’t think we’re very similar.

Canon!Nino: You know why they got us sitting next to each other.

SB&IB!Nino: Uh, ‘cause we’re the two funniest guys in our cities?

Canon!Nino: Damn right!

Canon!Nathaniel: I’m a Jewish artist.

SB&IB!Nathaniel: I’m a Jewish artist moonlighting as a villain.

Canon!Nathaniel: What?

SB&IB!XY: Are you an emotionally abused pop star?

Canon!XY: Yes, I am.

SB&IB!XY: Are you a “cool” emotionally abused popstar? *Holds up Bob Roth’s credit card*

Canon!XY: I, uh… I like to think so. *Leaves the court room with SB&IB!XY*

—

Kim: *After Austin Q hits the back of his head* Ow! What the hell?! That really hurts!

Austin Q: No it doesn’t! I do it to Austin T all the time!

Kim: You hit him? That’s insane! No wonder he’s so touch starved, claustrophobic, and doesn’t know how a school works!

Austin Q: That's Adrien!

[neomedievalist]

FMK with Kirei, Gil and Cu Chulainn

i opened this saying oh thisll be easy but its actually giving me pause. theres a lot to consider here. im going to answer this in an extremely long excruciatingly detailed fashion. first of all. all three very attractive, if i may say so, Fuckable characters. now would I PERSONALLY want to fuck them IN REAL LIFE is a complete other question. ive said this before but literally gil and kirei are the only two qualified to handle each other i do not want to touch that shit with a ten foot pole as unfortunately attracted to gilgamesh i am i cant help but feel like sex with him and ME PERSONALLY. would NOT be pleasant. kirei literally goes without saying and cu. i literally love him to death but. ive just read the tain and thats clouding my mind a bit. hes. he sure acts a way in that. now all of that considered. kirei is bringing literally nothing to the table here. as sexy as he is his fucking personality is not something i want to put up with in any capacity as aforementioned the only one built different enough to take that is gilgamesh, who, despite what some tumblr posts may have you believe, I am not. so naturally, kirei falls into the Kill category. now the tossup between the remaining two might surprise you. after much deliberation i think i would marry gil and fuck cu. and this isnt just because if i marry gil i can fuck him as much as i want. i think being married to gil would be so much of a wild ride that i just want to experience it. you know that shit he was saying to saber in zero like oooh we can rule the world together ill treat u so well. Maybe i want that and maybe that one art of him using the gate of babylon to summon valentines day presents is getting me. now dont get me wrong he is literally an awful person and insufferable but if were assuming hes committed enough to Agree to Marry me i think. well it would be fun. dont we all want to be a trophy wife sometimes.. now this feels like im leaving cu in the dust here which is so unfair and i love him i simply. Wow everything i was going to say about him applies to gilgamesh too i am just willfully ignoring it because i want him. but im not changing my mind. id hook up with cu for fucking sure if i saw him at a bar he IS coming home with me. and i literally love him as a character i promise you and i hate to let everyone down but i dont think he is necessarily Husband Material. at least gil has a plan. i truly feel so bad for letting him down here

tl;dr fuck cu marry gil kill kirei

[sassquire]

I am afab, but recently I have been questioning my gender. I at least want to feel masc, I think I want to cut my hair, and get a bit bigger, and dress more masculine, etc. I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the idea of top or bottom surgery (definitely not bottom surgery lol) but i think i might like to try binding. I used to imagine what my name would be if I was a boy (I could only think of one and I didn't like it lol) I have always been attracted to more masculine characters in media and I kinda want to be them.

The idea that I might be ftm has gotten into my head and now I can't shake it loose, but I haven't experienced a whole lot of dysphoria? (Or if I have, I wouldn't know for certain, but I recently had to try on a few dresses for my family and I was severely uncomfortable to the point where I cried several times lol) (I was also told that I was very girly by some friends as a kid and haven't worn a dress and have avoided the color pink since then lol)

Funnily enough I have been feeling more comfortable with my femininity since I started to explore my potential masculinity, but idk if that's just because I'm getting older

I haven't experienced intense body dysphoria, and am not unhappy in my body? I don't really know if this qualifies as gender dysphoria but I just cannot stop thinking about it and I was hoping to get some opinions lol

Thank you if you've read this far, and thank you so much if you take the time to try and help me out with this, lol

holy moly thats a mr. hugh mungus ask this reads as p similar to what i went thru minus the femininity (mostly) but honestly friend, not a lot of that is relevant to the million dollar question of Am I One Of The Transes Or Not just dress/present/act however the fuck makes u comfortable and in time, the answer will reveal itself

or you could just speedrun it like "do I identify fully with my assigned gender?" if the answer is anything but a resounding yes, you're probably trans. and that's it. you could do absolutely nothing after that and still be trans. you will always be trans unless that answer becomes a "yes, i identify completely with my birth gender and nothing else". or if you decide you dont like the trans label honestly do whatever you want.

[myalchod]

Ship Tag Game

Tagged by @vera-dauriac over messages, which totally counts. Multifandom because I am indecisive AF and also possibly lazy?

OTP: That's one per fandom, right? 🤣 For sheer persistence over years and multiple incarnations, Milathos. Currently eating my brain? Rhaenys x Corlys, Silrah. (Clearly the fault of a certain actress. *shakes tiny fist*)

Ship that you love but your friends don't (and that's ok): of those I'm closest to, there's a lot of "I don't get your fandomship but it's very shiny", and tbh as long as they let me flail around and don't actually judge my ships it's all good.

Wholesome ship: Dragon Mom and Pirate Dad are the most wholesome. Fight me. (Don't fight me, I'll feed you to Meleys. She agrees.)

Comfort ship: I don't know if I have once, since I have this depressing habit of picking ones with a heavy dose of DOOM. (Sooner or later, doom. /Ivanova voice) My idea of a comfort ship is fic for anything that canon doomed where they get to be happy, so I guess I'm for patching the boat up until it can get back out to sea and sail off into a lovely sunset.

Crack ship: Um. Goodness. I don't know that I have anything I actively ship that qualifies. (Hey Vera, does wanting Pearl Fishers to get resolved in that threesome count? I'm sure opera purists would have something to say about that, if only "what the actual fuck?".)

Ship that should be popular but isn't: Most of my ships tend to be less popular in the fandoms they're in because I do like me some older/less generally popular characters, so probably most of them. And I judge the fandom at large for not recognising their awesomeness. So much judgement.

Opposites attract ship: Banged my head against this more than I expected because I couldn't get past either "but I don't like sunshine characters!" or "but they're all opposites if you look from the right angle, just like they're all too similar if you look from another one". So, in the absence of a satisfactory answer and to get something else in here that amuses me: Victoria and Ivan from RED, which is just a ridiculous delight for so many reasons.

Canon ship: Canon ship that doesn't get blown up, you mean? See Mom and Dad, above.

First ship: I think this might have been junior-high-school-aged Charis watching ST:TNG, because Picard/Crusher is genuinely the first one I remember. (I guess even wee Charis kind of proves out certain aspects of my type, lol.)

Cursed ship: Did I mention I regularly pick DOOM DOOM DOOM with a side of "canon said fuck you this is never going to happen because we've wrecked it forever?" (Honestly, how Musketeers fucked up a perfectly good Milathos dynamic will leave me forever salty, so I'm pretty sure that qualifies. Death is easier to solve!)

Tag (if you have the time and inclination using one or many fandoms, your choice): anyone who wants to do it, but please tag me so I can see your response!

[twin-wolves-123]

a rant about writing. or my professor. maybe both.

I don't know who the hell will see this, the only thing my blog did in the past two months was collect 20 bot followers it looks like but

today (well yesterday, i'm writing this past midnight)

i had a class. It is my intro to fiction writing class.

I've responded to like, what one writing prompt on here? idk i think writing is fun, creative writing is cool, id like to be a better writer, i might like to do something with it someday, i grew up on ff.net if that means anything to people nowadays

My professor, im sure, is a very talented man. he's had published shit and is a "good writer"TM

we submitted short stories, like 10 pages ish for today's class. And one thing my professor did for the first student's story discussed today was ask, "Why did you write this?"

This kid wrote a story about the country hypothetically having a government replaced by AI. Work doesn't exist anymore, everyone is like partying, living it up or whatever and the story is about a character in college who basically felt like he worked hard his whole life for nothing and is, understandably, upset about the changes. College class gets suspended and nobody is like, doing anything with their life. It was pretty interesting. Most of the class agreed.

And when the kid responded that he was interested in how this one character would respond to a scenario like this, and he was interested in the development of a society like this given how popular ChatGPT is becoming and whatnot, the professor basically said that those answers weren't good enough.

What the fuck?

I still don't really understand the answer he was looking for, he did say something like it has to be, like, what the author is "trying to say", i guess what emotion or thought they're linking to the story

And so he eventually said, he was thinking that maybe a scenario like this could happen to him in the future.

ANd the professor goes, "Well if it's anxiety about not having a job in the future, why didn't you just write about that instead?" ANd then he proceeded to make several comparisons to other anxious scenarios that i felt were way off base, like getting a divorce...

What the hell? Like, he wrote about what he wrote about, what is the justification FOR writing about those other scenarios?

anyways, the kid whose story got discussed before mine he liked, I guess. It was about his immigrant father and one of his father's story which becomes an extended metaphor and like, growing up in the states as his son kind of- i won't go into too much detail. The point is, he liked it.

Because right after discussing his, he explicitly made a point. And I am not making this up. That he doesn't ask people who wrote "good" stories (and he said a qualified good, as in he also said he knows that they can't be good, but they're good for what they are, or whatever) why they wrote this, because those stories already have a right to exist on their own. And then he turns to me, and says very pointedly, "Why did you write this?"

What the fuck is your problem?

Like, if they wrote a good story good on them, if I wrote a shitty one oh well, but what is the point of you explicitly reiterating that point to the entire class to emphasize how bad my story was? How does that help me? Before you've even actually given me any valuable feedback?

I wrote a story about a wannabe filmmaker who recruited two talented actors to help him make a short film to submit for a film competition. So i told him why i wrote this. I had a scene in my head that I wanted to continue about a shitty filmmaker getting yelled at by the actor (after the director is trying to critique how the actor played one scene), who is much more talented than him, and I wanted to flesh out this character. "Why? Why did you want to flesh this out?" he asks. And I talk about wanting to write about someone with very little talent working hard, sucking, but potentially being able to make something out of it. "Why?" Because it's relatable? "Everything is relatable. Why did you write this? Why are you writing this about movies?" Because making movies requires technical skill that's difficult to learn on your own, and I thought it was fitting. "Everything can be difficult to learn. Why is the story not about music, or someone getting their grades up?" No matter what answer I gave, he wasn't satisfied. (this is going back to the first kid he critiqued, too. It's not the story because that's not what I wrote? I didn't find that as interesting, and those aren't the stories I wanted to tell?) I didn't say that, i eventually just answered, "I don't know how to answer your question. I don't know what form my answer should take if I shouldn't have written the story for those reasons."

So he eventually changes it to, what am I trying to accomplish with the story, or make the reader feel? So i answer: sympathy and hope.

This is another part that really fucking grinds my gears.

So he asks, "Why is this not a comedy?"

What?

And basically he talks about how, he thought it was comical. This nincompoop (he used this word) director who hasn't put in the work trying to make a film with these actors who do know what they're doing, like, yeah. That's fair. He deserves to get yelled at. Why should the reader feel sympathy for him? I think it's funny. Why wouldn't anyone be annoyed by this character? Haven't you been annoyed by people like that?

First of all, maybe I don't think like that? Why is that your first instinct?

And i respond to him that i can be annoyed, but I can still be sympathetic toward them? Why do those have to be mutually exclusive?

And the question that I still have in my head is, what? Yes, he hasn't put in the work YET, but the point is that he's new and trash at this. And how the fuck is someone supposed to get BETTER at anything if they're not given a chance to try?

Is this really what you think of other people?

I do ask him how I was supposed to make the reader sympathetic toward him, to which he does give a couple of answers, like be more in the filmmaker's head, or have the actors be worse rather than talented (but that's not the point of my story... they're supposed to be more experienced than he is...)

But this whole time, he's still pretty much just been asking me the question, "Why?" Or "Why not x other thing?"

He critiqued some of my awkward dialogue and descriptions, sure, which was some actual advice. But not one thing he's said during that constant asking of "Why?" has been valuable feedback for what I put down on the page, nor has it made me a better writer.

And like, I eventually pose to him my own question of, "I don't have an answer to why NOT it's about those things (like the music or the grades thing), but I don't understand why it HAS to be, and why it can't be what I wrote about."

And he then goes, "have you been on a movie set?" And talks about how, if I write a story in a world of movies, I have to be convincing enough that I know what I'm talking about. Like how to make a movie, the lighting, the process, the set, etc. And if I can't be, it's not smart to write the story about that to begin with (which you could've just said in the first place and moved on to critiquing my actual writing, I feel like?).

This part, he has a point that I understand. But now I'm left with, am I only supposed to write about things I'm already very familiar with? I can't write about imagined scenarios or anything outside my field of expertise? Because I feel like that's just so limiting. And I, frankly don't have mastery in many fields. So I just, can't write about anything? What?

He also didn't give feedback for me on anything past the first scene.

tldr.

Yes, I'm an amateur, I don't see how you making a point of how garbage my story was compared to the last one helps with that.

Why should people not be given a chance to better their skills? Isn't that the point of this whole class, actually?

And I have no real refutation for the last thing: yes a story is better and more believable if the writer has specific knowledge about certain aspects of the story but... Something about that just doesn't sit right with me. Wouldn't the world be deprived of a lot of really amazing work if people could ONLY write about things they're extremely familiar with? I'm sure you're a great writer and all, and I'm sure that, as an amateur, there's a lot that I maybe can't understand, but why can't people write about what they want to write about? Why can't people explore certain characters or scenarios because they find them interesting? Why can't people tell the stories they WANT to tell?

Why is that insufficient?

plus you spending half an hour asking why i wrote something when i already wrote it, asking "why" again to each answer i give that you deem insufficient, instead of actually going over better writing technique, how to do plot/characters, and critiquing what's on the damn page...

Maybe I'm talking out of my ass. Maybe this is just me being too amateur or immature to understand, but there has to be a better use of time than that.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part IV

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

IV. Showering Together To Conserve Water

You are both tired as you return to the hotel, and maybe a little giddy from what you did in the backcountry of the vineyard. You certainly didn’t drink enough wine at the reception to be stumbling the way you are, and when you nearly trip over your tall shoes again Frank sweeps you up into his arms for the second time that day.

When you look at him with surprise he qualifies, “If you break an ankle, it will ruin my night.”

You chuckle to yourself, and rest your head on his shoulder. It’s a very nice shoulder, broad, solid. If you were braver than you are, you might even dare to think it feels…dependable. It doesn’t escape you, that he carries you like a bride over his threshold, on this day when you watched your ex-fiancé marry someone else.

Frank would be a much better prospect than Keith—but you are not thinking about that.

You’re trying not to, anyway.

The shine doesn’t even diminish while he curses as he fumbles to get out his key. It’s all highly entertaining, and very sweet, and that cloyingly painful ball in your chest only feels like it's growing.

He sets you down on the bed, and immediately sets about unbuckling the ankle straps of your shoes. “These things are an accident waiting to happen.”

“But they make my calves look amazing,” you defend.

He pauses to assess the body parts in question, nodding begrudgingly. “They’re quite nice on their own though. You’re a very attractive woman.”

This hits you a bit like a shovel to the head. You guess he’d complimented your clothes before, but it wasn’t quite the same thing.

“I think you’re very attractive too,” you confess, though you’re sure he already knows it.

The fleeting look on his face isn’t exactly surprise—but you dare think that maybe it moves him too.

“Excellent. We’ve had sex and now we admit we’re attracted to each other,” he deflects with a smirk. “However, I also think you’re dirty after our roll in the hills, and I am too. Want to take a shower?”

You can only presume he means together, and you nod.

*** 

At first you focus solely on washing, which is nice when he lathers his big hands up with soap and runs them all over your body. You’re all too happy to return the favor, which yields the inevitable arousal for both of you.

“I know it’s how it’s done in the movies,” he says between kissing you, “But if I pick you up to fuck you the odds are excellent I will slip and fall and we will both get hurt.”

You’re not entirely disappointed to hear this. You’ve always thought it precarious and awkward anyway. In answer you turn to lean on the shower wall. “How about this?” you suggest, standing on tiptoe to offer your ass up in the air, looking back with a mischievous smile.

“Maybe if we could get you a footstool,” he snarks, before engulfing you with his body behind yours, his front pressed to your back. He grumbles with appreciation as he kisses the back of your neck, his hard member pressing into your spine. “I think we can make this work,” he muses, his voice gone low and gravely with desire. That alone is enough to make you gush between your legs, and when he touches you he finds your slit slick and ready for him. It’s almost embarrassing, really, how much you want it with this man.

When he bends his knees to enter you the both of you moan, the wonderful pressure of his beautiful cock filling you up making you see stars.

It’s also embarrassing, how fast you cum on his fingers with his cock inside you like this, the hard clench of your walls bringing him right along with you again.

“Oh my god,” you pant, pressing your cheek against the cool tiles. You can feel the hot drip of his seed running down your thighs—it’s marvelous, if you’re being honest. It’s wonderful and you’re afraid you never want it to end.

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning above you, leaving you feeling surrounded by his body and strangely secure in the shelter of his larger form.

“I never—” You stop yourself short, thinking that maybe it’s too much to confess this soon in your budding relationship, if this can even be called yet. Leave it to you, to scare him off straight out the gate.

“Tell me,” he says, almost gently, his throbbing manhood still inside you.

Fuck it.

“I never cum this quickly. I usually get freaked out that I’m taking too long, and it’s a nightmare, and I just end up faking it to make it stop. You are…” You evacuate the breath from your body, so that you don’t say something insane, like you’re a dream come true.

You tense, waiting for the inevitable snide comment that will shatter the moment, but it does not come. He just kisses the back of your head and slides out of you, so that he can stand upright again. However, he does not let go of you, holding you snug against the shelter of his body with an arm still looped around your waist. 

“That sounds crushingly disappointing,” he says against your ear.

“Yeah.” You’re not sure why your throat is suddenly tight, and that’s all you can get out at the moment. You guess before Frank, you weren’t that into it either. 

He turns you in his arms and kisses you again under the warm stream of the shower, so sweetly one would find it hard to believe he’s the same man from before. “I’m honored. And…same.”

“You’ve faked orgasms before?” you ask, incredulous.

“No, but you—this is the best I’ve had in a long time. So…same.”

You nod, and resolve not to pick at it anymore, happy with what you have for now. You rest with your head against his chest, catching your breath, your knees–and your heart–feeling like they’ve turned to jelly.

[cannibalise-the-citrus-fruits]

1: yes

2: p sure my dad

3: yeah

4: not particularly, although that might just be bc I don't tend to put myself in situations that would dredge things like that up

5: single

6: something painless

7: ribs 🤤🤤🤤🤤

8: not right now, but I used to do marching band

9: no

10: depends

11: I like a lot of people. none romantically tho, which I think is what this question is asking

12: no

13: not on a personal level, no

14: not anyone in particular, but I do wish I remembered to reach out and talk to people more

15: two cats, and a few fish. I will admit to caring about the cats more than the fish

16: introspective

17: no

18: yeah. recently learned I am far more afraid of smaller spiders than larger spiders when there was like a three or four inch spider just sitting near the art cubbies in class a few weeks ago. didn't freak me out nearly as much as a one inch spider would have

19: depends. to see different historical eras, absolutely I would, but if we're talking more personal, make your life better by making a different decision? I'd have to think about it way more

20: snogged? what are you, british? N/A

21: video games, reading fanfiction, hopefully gonna visit my grandpa

22: idk, ask me again when I'm not 18

23: no, but I've been considering getting my ears pierced

24: Math. I fucking love math

25: didn't I already answer this one? question 14? if the two are meant differently I don't know what the difference is

26: no particular foods, just ate me some tasty ribs

27: not romantically to my knowledge, but this feels like a bit of an ambiguous question

28: no

29: N/A

30: these questions feel very hetero/amatonormative and that's starting to get on my nerves

31: I certainly hope so, my parents are sitting in the same room rn. if my parents didn't love me I would be very sad

32: lime green

33: I don't think I do, no

34: I don't remember. maybe I should start a dream journal. that could be fun

35: honestly, it's been so long I have no idea

36: I don't think I do, no

37: the processes of those two things are not comporable enough to say which is easier in my opinion

38: LMAO no. If I had to pick, I'd probably say 2021, but I also wasn't especially affected by the start of the pandemic

39: see, this is what I was talking about back in question 30. N/A

40: no

numbers 41-50 are missing

51: the homemade pizza recipe my family makes. it's really good

52: I believe everything happens for multiple reasons. I ate ribs today because someone suggested it when my family and I were making a meal plan for this week. the ribs were kinda mid because we made double the amount we usually do and weren't as familiar with the recipe in large quantities. I'm writing this list because I feel like it. in terms of like, higher purpose reasons? no

53: I won a game of civ 6

54: depends on ur definition. having sex with someone outside an established relationship? as long as everyone is okay with it, do whatever. doing that but one party is unaware/not okay with it? no

55: I am not qualified to answer this question because this is a subjective quality and I am biased in favor of myself.

56: I think like one. maybe two. this was also back in elementary school

57: bestie what does that even mean. there are so many ways this can be interpreted.

58: depends on the time of day. cloudy/light rain during the day, clear at night (although rain isn't unwelcome overnight)

59: yeah

60: see answer 22

61: idk, it's never happened to me

62: more things than can be listed in a tumblr reblog, and many more that I haven't found

63: no, I'm pretty happy with the name my parents gave me

64: I'm pretty sure this is meant romantically, in which case, N/A and also go look at my answer for question 30 again

65: QUESTION THIRTY AGAIN MY GOD. anyways probably talk about it with them.

66: this is the third answer in a row that I'm gonna have to refer you back to question 30. I am going to be VERY GENEROUS and pretend that you just mean "friend you are romantically attracted to", in which case no, but only bc I'm not currently attracted to anyone. I was fully capable of this when I was down bad two years ago

67: I really wish I didn't have to cite question 30 again. and I wouldn't, if it weren't for the fact that, taken with the context of the other questions here, this question has connotations of "ooooooo someones got a cruuuuuuuush you should go talk to them and see if they're interested" instead of what would otherwise be interpreted as "when was the last time you had a conversation with someone with whom you do not share these particular traits". to answer the contextless question, like ten minutes ago I had a small chat with my mom.

68: a few days ago I brought up immortality in the car with my sibling and I think that was a pretty interesting conversation.

69: no

70: I think if it came down to it, no.

Having now gone through the entire list, I can confirm that these questions were, indeed, horrible. Not because they were especially introspective or personal, but because OP needs to learn how to ask better questions.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[ratsetflummi]

All of the odd numbered weird asks! (But feel free to skip any that you don’t want to answer of course 😅)

1. who is/are your comfort character(s)?

currently artemis entreri, previously strahd von zarovich

generally there seems to be a theme of mentally ill little bastards with a bunch of trauma who are suffering from The Curse™ and who just kind of want to die but can't

don't read anything into that

3. do you leave the window open at night?

i leave it tilted (because i got the good european windows that you can tilt), so the murderers don't get in, but i also don't suffocate

5. what color are your eyes?

blue

7. hair-ties or scrunchies?

i'm bald

but back when i still had long hair i only ever used hair-ties

9. which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

ideally lukewarm, but i'll also take cold. i'm very sensitive to heat, so hot coffee just kills me

11. favorite extracurricular activity?

i haven't been in school in almost a decade. and back when i was still in school i never did any extracurriculars. i always wanted to do theater, but my anxiety was way too bad to actually sign up for it back then

13. when was the last time you ate?

two hours ago. i went to my parents' place to bake a lemon tart with meringue, and i ate a piece of that before i left

the tart in question:

15. are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

only to a pair of little idiot cats

17. are you farsighted or nearsighted?

nearsighted, but i only have to wear my glasses at university, for everything else my eyes are still good enough

19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

yes, and they might not even look horrible, i've been getting better at that lately

21. something you’ve kept since childhood?

the only thing that comes to mind is my fear of dogs. had that since i was a child. as far as like objects go i'm pretty sure everything's been replaced at some point

23. how do you feel about chilly weather?

love chilly weather, the chillier the better, bury me in snow and i will be happy (i am currently suffering from summer)

25. perfume/body spray or lotion?

body spray

27. about how many hours of sleep did you get?

more than i usually get recently, which is to say about 7 hours. the cat i'm currently cat sitting keeps screaming me awake way too early in the morning, but last night i finally caved in and put in some earplugs, so i actually slept more than five hours for once

29. how do you like your shower water?

warm. not scalding, but i refuse to step into a cold shower

31. what type of music keeps you grounded?

metal. a strong baseline and drums help me calm down. which sounds like a joke, but it really isn't

33. the last adventure you’ve been on?

i'm currently living at a friend's place out in the middle of nowhere, because she's on vacation right now and i agreed to take care of her cat, and going back and forth from my place to hers takes for fucking ever. and honestly just figuring out how to live out here is an adventure of its own

35. what’s your timezone?

i would have sworn that it's gmt+1, but apparently it's gmt+2? or cest. my friends in the uk keep calling me a bloody future person because i'm one hour ahead of them

37. someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

only person who i still talk to is thisfairytalegonebad on here. we weren't technically actively talking until we did our finals at the same time, which was only 7 years ago, but fairy is the reason why i'm even on tumblr in the first place, and that was 11 years ago

39. do you use lip balm?

nope, my lips always feel worse when i try

41. how do you take your coffee?

with ridiculous amounts of milk and sugar

43. what’s your take on spicy foods?

i can handle a bit of spice, but too much will kill me

45. can you remember what happened yesterday?

i had to think long and hard about it, but i think i reconstructed most of it

the highlights are going to university, doing a horrible job drawing my friend's old dnd character during a lecture, visiting a friend at work on the way home, failing to kill a boss on elden ring for like two hours, talking to friends on vc, and doing a way better job redoing the drawing

the drawings in question (from 2021, yesterday morning, and yesterday night, in that order):

(yes, that is jarlaxle's hat. well, technically jack axel's hat, who was my pc in dragonheist, and who totally wasn't just the jarlaxle we have at home when mom says that we have jarlaxle at home)

47. what was the last message you sent?

asking my mom whether she has finally applied for the new job she was looking at and whether her coworker has actually quit yet. that was five days ago, she hasn't answered yet

unless we're talking discord messages, in which case it was me talking about what i'm gonna cook for my friends when i go visit them a month from now

49. can you skip rocks?

absolutely not. i've tried a couple times, but i never actually got anywhere

[imaginepostingonsideblogs]

8, 14, 7 and 35 for Rex :)

oh LAWKS. okay. let's uh let's see.

Are they in love?

tsp verse? yep. flashing a lil finger heart at you raph. he can't see that. but whatever.

wbg verse? UHHHHHHHHH well yous eee!! that's um that's-- uh a very interesting question! it doesn't specify if they're like. in love with someone ELSE or who that is i could be like yes :) he's so in love with himself actually

hes... in love with power? uh. okay ill stop dodging the matter at hand. um.

i think he is capable of being in love, i think he was once actually in love, and i thinkkk that love never really went away. i think it's what he's acting on right now. is he currently in love?

when does milk start being cheese, man? when does love get so stagnated it stops being love at all?

not at this point, i think. a hesitant yes.

How would they solve the trolley problem?

get someone else to do it. next!

What gender are they?

lawks. god only knows. and by 'god' i mean 'certainly not cas'. he's being verryyy unhelpful rn.

there's a certain trans masc quality to him that i actually have no idea if its canon or not. im actually sitting here doubting myself now. right?? right???

I DONT THINK HE IS NOW? GOD. FELIX IM ACTUALLY GOING INSANE HERE. DONT QUALIFY THIS AS ANYTHING TO DO WITH MY FINAL ANSWER THIS IS JUST LIKE A STREAM OF CONCIOUSNESS KIND OF THING. GOD. GOD..

IS HE CIS? WHAT AM I TALKING ABT IM PRETTY SURE HE IS

RIGHT? BUT HE

okay he's basically. he's like if a guy was an ex-wife and also didn't really give a shit abt gender but decided on being a guy ages ago and didn't particularly want to change it

hes whatever suits best at the time tbh. takes a lot of delight in the title of 'husband' though <3

Did they deserve what happened to them?

okay now we're getting into moral dilemmas here.

er. no.

technically most things that happen to him are unrelated to or not because of the fucked up shit he's done (no matter what the people doing em might claim) and i think that means he technically suffered a lot of fucked up shit for very little reason at all which is smth nobody deserves.

the people he did fucked up shit to didn't deserve that either buttt i don't think it cancels out <3

then again im not a big believer in eye-for-an-eye type stuff so maybe my answers a lil biased here!